Ao Bing's vision went black inside the room.
"O handsome, dashing third brother, did you drop this gold witch, this silver witch, or this old witch who's neither gold nor silver?"
"Stop fooling around."
Ao Bing struggled to knock Little Dragon Girl's hand away. Before him stood the witch and the Three Elders who had been thrown into the river, not daring to breathe a word.
To drag the shamans down from their divine pedestals, he had to start with the shamans themselves.
Once he cast aside the hopes people had placed in gods and shamans, he had to let them pick those hopes up themselves and take everything into their own hands.
Before arriving in Caozhou, Ao Bing had planned to summon his clansmen to tame the waters. With Nine Dragons controlling the floods, it would take a day at most.
But flood control by the Dragon Tribe would last only a while; flood control by the Human Race would last a lifetime.
King Zhou had taught him that blocking was better than channeling, so the next step was to use human methods of flood control: build embankments, then construct something behind them to hold the river water.
In short, exposing the shamans' absurdities would only settle people's hearts for the moment. A second witch, then a third, would still come along to exploit the floods for personal gain.
Thus, besides fostering spiritual civilization, Ao Bing also had to build material civilization, which would in turn influence the spiritual side once more.
Knife in hand, Ao Bing rolled his wheelchair over to the witch and the Three Elders.
The witch cried in terror, "Those who recite the shamanic chants cannot be harmed by blades!"
"Then go recite them," Ao Bing said. "In seven days, I'll test my blade on