Chronicles of Primitive Civilization’s Growth

Chapter 9: KO Dali

The Elder was somewhat helpless about the situation. Originally, recruiting Luo Chong into the hunting team was an exception, and now this young man wanted to run for Chief. But recalling the Terror Bird he caught yesterday and the new food from the water, if he could truly defeat Dali, perhaps letting him be the Chief wouldn’t be bad.

Thus, under the astonished gaze of the clan members, Luo Chong and Dali walked to the center of the arena.

Dali looked down at Luo Chong, who only reached his chest, with eyes full of confidence and disdain. One-Ear and Shouya showed some sympathy. The onlookers cheered loudly, encouraging Luo Chong.

Dali stood with legs apart, squatting slightly in an unstandardized horse stance, waiting for Luo Chong to come to him. Without hesitation, Luo Chong quickly rushed to Dali’s front. Just as Dali smirked with a wide grin, Luo Chong suddenly leaped up, left foot stepping on Dali’s slightly bent thigh, hands grabbing Dali’s hair, right knee pulling back and fiercely colliding with Dali’s chin.

Pang!

Before everyone could react, Dali fell flat on his back, groaning as he rolled around on the ground. The spectators were momentarily speechless; One-Ear and Shouya’s eyes almost popped out, the Elder’s fingers trembled slightly, and the Lame Man sat down directly.

After all, Dali was their tribe’s strongest warrior. Even if he lost, he shouldn’t have been defeated so quickly by a minor child.

But that minor child, Luo Chong, was silently showing off, inwardly laughing smugly. As someone from the 21st century, a fool would compare strength with him. The jaw is a vital part of the human body; a heavy blow would make one faint instantly. It was already impressive that Dali was still groaning on the ground.

The Elder was excited. He felt something significant might happen in the tribe. Perhaps this young man would lead the clan to greater strength, allowing the whole tribe to no longer suffer from hunger, cold, or threats from other tribes. There was no basis for this, just an intuitive feeling.

Luo Chong defeated Dali, earning the position of Chief, and the clan members all accepted it. No one looked down on him because of his young age, as if this was how it should be. Because Luo Chong had brought them too many miracles in these two days, causing the clan to have some inexplicable admiration.

Dali was still shaking his dizzy head while the Elder picked up the broken feather crown, looking somewhat at a loss.

The heirloom of countless generations of Chiefs was gone, which was embarrassing. What about the image of the new Chief? If other tribes saw this, it would be very shameful.

But he had no idea that Luo Chong deliberately broke the feather crown. Jokingly, having a ring of feathers on his head made him look like an unlucky person. Supposedly, unlucky people had terrible luck, and he didn’t want to wear that thing, especially since it was green—absolutely unacceptable to put it on his head.

After recovering a bit, Dali wobbled to his feet, clearly still不服气 (unconvinced). Amidst the cries of the crowd, he lunged toward Luo Chong, his two large hands reaching out to grab Luo Chong’s head easily. Luo Chong frowned, angry that Dali couldn’t accept his defeat, becoming both annoyed and embarrassed.

When Dali approached, Luo Chong grabbed Dali’s two fingers with a backward hand movement and twisted them forward forcefully.

Aow!

With Dali’s cry of pain, Luo Chong held Dali’s fingers with one hand, sidestepped, and circled behind Dali, delivering a strong kick to Dali’s knee pit. Dali fell face-down on the ground, being subdued by Luo Chong pressing him down. Any struggle from Dali increased the pressure Luo Chong applied to his fingers.

Within two minutes, even a mighty man like Dali had to succumb to the pain of Luo Chong twisting his fingers, crying and begging for mercy, it was simply excruciating. Having two fingers twisted, his entire arm couldn’t exert any force, feeling as if something inside his arm was about to snap, and worst of all, there wasn’t even any bleeding. How was this possible?

Luo Chong released the tearful giant, letting him figure out how to twist fingers himself, then scanned the surrounding clan members with a contemptuous glance.

The clan members’ expressions were blank, subdued by Luo Chong’s overwhelming martial power, none daring to oppose.

At this moment, the Elder cleverly handed over a few feathers to Luo Chong. However, before the newly appointed Chief could take them, he turned around and went back into the Cave.

This caused another stir in the crowd. The children cheered, celebrating the first time minors had beaten adults. The main members of the hunting team gathered around Dali, comparing finger strengths, studying why twisting fingers hurt so much. The women discussed where they had seen vines, planning to ask the Chief to teach them more about making backpacks when they returned in the evening. The Elder stared complexly at the cave entrance, deep in thought.

Just then, the newly styled Chief appeared again before everyone.

Luo Chong wore a simple deer skin garment with crossed fronts, a snake skin belt tightly tied around his waist. The biggest highlight was on his head, more accurately, his hairstyle.

His jet-black long hair was tied high on top of his head into a bun, secured with a snake skin hairband, with a thin bone pin made from a Terror Bird’s bone stuck in it. His clean and tidy face still bore some youthful innocence, but his eyes revealed maturity beyond his years. This new look immediately overshadowed the old, broken feather crown.

The tied-up hair was Luo Chong’s carefully considered new style. This tradition of the Chinese nation had continued for thousands of years, reportedly starting from the Shang-Zhou periods, or even earlier. Initially, it had no special meaning; early agricultural people found it inconvenient to farm with loose hair, so they started tying it up. Therefore, this also became one of the important markers of the agrarian Han ethnicity.

Of course, this was all an excuse Luo Chong gave himself. As a genuine modern person, he wanted short hair, but without scissors, this was the best option. Besides, working would be inconvenient otherwise, and most importantly, he didn’t want to wear that feather crown.

The new Chief’s neat appearance immediately attracted the attention of the clan members. Under the starry gazes of the clan, Luo Chong walked to the center of the crowd.

There was no lengthy inauguration speech, as it wouldn’t have been understood anyway. They only cared about how much food could be stored before the snowfall, how many children would be born this autumn, how many would survive, and how many meat meals they could have during winter.

The sun had risen, and the morning mist had dissipated. As the new Chief, Luo Chong began arranging today’s work.

The hunting team would go out hunting, and Luo Chong decided not to join them today as he had other things to do. No one opposed this since he was now the boss.

The foraging team was reorganized. The tribe currently had 15 adult women, six of whom were pregnant. The remaining nine women, plus the Lame Man, totaled ten people, but Luo Chong only sent eight women to forage today.

Now that they had backpacks, they didn’t need the Lame Man to protect them anymore. Each woman carried a stick, not necessarily for hunting, but self-defense was manageable. Never underestimate the fighting power of women, especially primitive women. Anyone who dared to underestimate them was foolish, and their strength was much greater than people today.

The six pregnant women stayed behind to watch the house and care for the toddlers aged two or three. Older children were tasked with weeding.

The remaining woman was assigned to fish with two boys by Luo Chong, leaving the Lame Man behind. Luo Chong planned to give him a different ideal.

Thinking about the man who vowed to spend his entire life grinding a stone basin, Luo Chong felt pity for him.

To leave a stone basin for the tribe, even though he might never use it himself, he was still silently contributing. So, Luo Chong intended for him to specialize in pottery burning in the future.

Pottery burning is actually quite simple. As long as you don’t pursue beauty, you can randomly scoop some clay mud from the riverbank, i.e., clay, and burn black pottery. It may not be aesthetically pleasing, but it’s practical.

Everyone had tasks, but the Lame Man hadn’t received his assignment yet, appearing somewhat disheartened. However, he didn’t want to be idle and took out the half-finished stone basin to grind again. Even the children knew to weed, and as an adult, he must contribute to the tribe, or he wouldn’t have the right to eat the food others brought back.

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