Chapter 90 – The Doctrine of Results
At the entrance of Peach Blossom Village, a group of stiff, half-decayed corpses were slowly clearing piles of yellow earth.
Chu Xingchen sat leisurely in a chair beside a large iron cauldron of boiling oil, overseeing the work like a patient foreman.
Bones floated on the surface of the oil — a clear sign that one or two fools had already gone in for a "bath."
These corpses might look brainless, but in truth, they weren't. Their speech was just so filthy and incoherent that Chu Xingchen couldn't understand a word. Luckily, Yuan Kong and the village chief could interpret from within their mental field and relay his orders.
Still, Chu Xingchen didn't need to understand their words. Actions were enough.
Anyone who ignored instructions or disobeyed commands was immediately thrown into the cauldron without hesitation.
Language could lie — movement could not.
And it was obvious that these corpses could still feel pain. The cauldron proved to be an incredibly effective tool.
After the first few demonstrations, the once-rebellious undead instantly turned meek, their twisted limbs dragging along as they clumsily began working.
At first, Li Yingling had shown some interest in helping as an overseer, but that didn't last long.
Watching a group of mangled corpses work was agony — their movements slow, uncoordinated, and painfully inefficient.
After a few minutes of observation, she gave up entirely on the role and took Yuan Kong to patrol the village instead, hunting down those stray undead still wandering about and forcing them to join the labor.
Chu Xingchen, on the other hand, didn't care about efficiency. He only cared that they worked.
For every task completed, he offered small rewards: rest breaks, encouragement, and occasionally even food.
Whether the undead could actually eat was debatable, but Chu Xingchen still handed out his stored rations — and they devoured them with shocking enthusiasm.
Some corpses stuffed food into their mouths only for it to tumble right back out through holes in their stomachs. It was, admittedly, a spectacular waste of supplies.
Since they couldn't quite be considered "human" at the moment, Chu Xingchen set an eighteen-hour work schedule.
The village chief, watching the scene, felt his worldview crumble.
"You… really think you're treating them as people?"
Chu Xingchen's reply was as calm as it was blunt. "Do you think they qualify as people right now?"
That silenced the village chief immediately.
Of course, a few corpses tried to resist along the way — but all resistance ended the same way: in the cauldron.
These creatures seemed partially spiritual in nature; even after melting away in the boiling oil, they would reform once the cauldron cooled.
Most who had "experienced" the cauldron emerged utterly obedient. Only a few seemed to miss the sensation — and Chu Xingchen was more than happy to let them go back in.
After a few repetitions, every corpse understood that this man was not someone they could afford to provoke.
Disputes still broke out among them during work, but Chu Xingchen's rule was simple: whoever started it, went in.
Impartial. Consistent. Terrifyingly fair.
Meanwhile, Li Yingling continued rounding up stragglers to join the reform efforts.
Under Chu Xingchen's methodical oversight, order gradually took hold.
The collapsed mud towers at the village entrance were rebuilt piece by piece. Crude and uneven, perhaps — but at least livable.
The scattered bones were collected and buried together in a large pit to the south.
Through relentless labor and enforced discipline, the undead began to adapt.
If resistance was futile — then they might as well endure it.
As more crude houses took shape, Chu Xingchen even introduced a merit system: the most diligent workers earned the right to sleep inside the newly built mud huts.
The laziest, however, were left to sleep in the swampy filth outside — a fitting reflection of the results they had earned.
Chu Xingchen's rule was simple—absolute reward and punishment.
Since the corpses moved unbearably slow, he didn't have the patience to waste time waiting on them. Most of the time, he discreetly used minor techniques to speed up the construction work without drawing attention.
Thanks to that, progress was surprisingly fast.
In roughly three days, the first phase of housing reconstruction was complete. Even more astonishing—three of the undead had actually recovered enough to stop spewing curses and slurs, and began speaking in short, halting phrases that barely counted as communication.
When the village chief witnessed this, his skepticism vanished completely.
This world truly was one ruled by the mind—the heart shaped reality itself. As the corpses began to regain fragments of reason, the first visible change came from the nearby river: its dark red hue slowly faded to a pale crimson.
Chu Xingchen immediately appointed the three semi-restored corpses as team leaders, directing the others to new tasks beyond building houses—such as purifying the river and preparing land for gardens.
Under his iron-fisted management, results followed. Within another two days, most of the corpses had regained some semblance of normal behavior.
With higher efficiency came leniency. Chu Xingchen reduced the working hours and replaced the great cauldron of oil with a heavy iron staff—less of a deterrent, but enough to maintain order.
The sky, once a thick haze of dark red mist, began to regain faint light.
Small fish even began to jump in the newly cleared river.
Once the hardest part was overcome, improvement came faster than anyone could have imagined.
Chu Xingchen no longer needed to enforce labor. The half-human undead began working on their own initiative.
The village slowly transformed, piece by piece, from ruin into something almost alive again.
By the seventh day of supervision, a portion of the villagers—formerly corpses—had nearly become human once more.
Yuan Kong and the village chief weren't useless either.
At first, when the corpses could barely comprehend speech, Yuan Kong still needed to interpret. During punishments or disputes, he would question and clarify the details.
But as the villagers gradually changed, his role faded away.
Now, standing before the worksite, Chu Xingchen stretched lazily.
The village chief looked over the thriving Peach Blossom Village, and finally couldn't hold back his question.
"What's the secret to this success? You don't seem to care much about them, and yet…"
Chu Xingchen turned to him, smiling faintly.
"Does it matter whether I care? No man is perfect. People follow their hearts—but when there's no restraint, that heart becomes the soil of evil."
"You must make the wicked fear to act, and the good brave enough to act. That is the proper way."
"I don't know how you governed before, but you must understand—people have a herd instinct. What most choose isn't always right."
"You must know what is right, hold to it, and when you realize you're wrong—stop before it's too late."
"No one is always right. But you can't live forever afraid of being wrong."
The village chief stood silent for a long time, lost in thought, before asking his next question softly.
"Then… the philosophy of Bodhisattva Jialan—was it wrong? Is it impossible for beings to willingly choose goodness on their own?"
Chu Xingchen paused, then replied calmly,
"There are no wrong ideals—only wrong timing. If you lack the soil rich enough to nourish that fruit, then you cannot blame the fruit for failing to grow."
The village chief lowered his head, then let out a quiet laugh.
"You're right… you're absolutely right."
He lifted his robe.
His once pitch-black heart now glowed faintly with white light.
The truth was undeniable. No one could argue otherwise.
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