Chu Xingchen watched Wukong's expression. Now that he had bestowed a favor, it was time to apply something else.
He motioned for Wukong to follow.
Two figures flew straight into the sky.
Chu Xingchen stood in midair and gestured for Wukong to look down, taking in the entirety of the Right Sound Dharma Temple as it now stood.
Though the Right Sound Dharma Temple had been torn down, many disaster victims still needed somewhere to live.
Though the many cultivators could work day and night without rest, they still needed buildings for certain things.
The cultivators had constructed the first batch of habitable buildings at the Right Sound Dharma Temple. Built in haste, they naturally had little beauty to speak of.
They were more or less boxes with two holes punched into them-this was the door, this was the window, and this was a house.
Ask whether a house was crooked, and the answer would be-as long as it didn't collapse, what did it matter?
Most of the remaining buildings had been built by the disaster victims themselves, with the cultivators largely only drawing up plans, so neither the first batch nor the remaining buildings had any beauty to speak of.
They all had the look of refugee shacks.
Standing high in the sky, Chu Xingchen swept his gaze over the people of the Western Ox-He Continent, who could still smile amid those refugee shacks.
For a moment, he did not know whether to feel heartened or saddened.
Chu Xingchen spoke softly to Wukong beside him:
"Many things can deteriorate to the very worst as long as nobody does anything. Likewise, doing even a little can actually steer things back onto the right track."
"Just a little. That little might be no more than a thought in many people's minds,