I am a Primitive Man

As the sun set in the west, the day's heat dissipated, and a coolness began to rise.

The birds chirped as they returned to the forest, and the deer, back from grazing, called out softly.

The newly piled grave mound appeared taller and more lonely in the evening.

Fire Two sat quietly in front of the grave, her cloudy eyes staring at the stone tablet and the mound behind it.

She was closest to Fire One in the tribe; they shared the strongest bond. They were about the same age, and the tasks they managed were similar, so they had long been accustomed to each other’s presence.

Now that Fire One was suddenly gone, Fire Two felt an emptiness inside her, as if something important was missing.

However, compared to the past, things are much better now.

In the past, when someone in the tribe died, they would be burned in a fire. It was a clean break, leaving no trace behind.

Now, the Divine child had changed the custom, burying the deceased in the earth and placing a stone engraved with their name on top.

Even if Fire Two missed Fire One terribly in the old days, she could only think about it in her heart. But now, with this grave, she could sit here for a while.

It made her feel a bit better as if Fire One hadn't completely left but was still present in another way…

At dinner time, Han Cheng looked around but didn’t see Fire Two. After thinking for a moment, he led a few people to the grave.

By then, the light was already dim, and Fire Two crouched there in front of the grave looked even smaller and lonelier in its shadow.

The wind blew, stirring her thin, white hair and rustling the leaves.

Seeing this, Han Cheng felt a pang in his heart...

Time passed, slowly yet swiftly.

In the blink of an eye, the hot summer had ended, followed closely by the lingering heat of early autumn.

But no matter how strong it was, autumn was still autumn. Though the days remained hot, the nights grew cooler.

If they didn’t cover themselves with a thin layer of animal skin at bedtime, they would feel the chill.

Time is mysterious; it not only brings changes but also heals the wounds in people's hearts.

People were gradually getting used to Fire One’s passing, and when they thought of her, it no longer brought the same sadness. Even Fire Two visited the grave less frequently. 𝐑Ἀ𐌽ꝋ₿Ęᶊ

Life is like that—you can't dwell in sorrow forever. Moving forward is the only way.

As the early autumn heat finally subsided, the millet that the Green Sparrow Tribe had planted in the spring turned golden.

The threshing floor outside the main gate had been cleaned, and the sickles, wooden forks, brooms, and wheelbarrows had been prepared.

After a hearty meal, the people of the Green Sparrow Tribe, sharpening their tools, set out joyfully to the golden fields.

Sickles moved swiftly, and one by one, the heads of the millet stalks, heavy with grain, fell to the ground with a soft rustling sound.

Sweat rolled down their bronze-colored skin, which seemed to shimmer like gold in the autumn sunlight, reflecting off the golden millet.

The creaking sound of wheelbarrows filled the air as their wooden wheels rolled lightly over the newly built stone road, carrying the heavy harvest to the threshing floor...

Threshing, winnowing, flipping, gathering...

After going through the entire process, the clean millet grains appeared before them. Once dried, they were stored in the granary.

Last year’s remaining millet was cleared and dried, then stored separately. It would be consumed first before the new grain was eaten.

This year, the Green Sparrow Tribe harvested even more millet than the previous year.

On one hand, the people of the Green Sparrow Tribe were more familiar with all millet cultivation aspects than last year. On the other hand, they planted more millet this year.

In addition to the original 800 mu of land, after the rapeseed harvest, the 100 mu was also used to plant a late millet crop under Han Cheng’s orders.

Just as the early millet was harvested and stored, the late millet was also ready for harvest.

Although the yield wasn’t quite as high as that of the early millet, it wasn’t much less per mu, either.

This 100 mu of land, which was used for late millet, would lie fallow this winter.

Han Cheng planned to select another 100 mu of land that had never been planted with rapeseed for this year’s crop.

Different crops have different nutrient requirements from the soil, which is why Han Cheng practiced crop rotation between millet and rapeseed…

The seemingly similar days passed in a repetitive yet subtly new way.

After the people of the Green Sparrow Tribe harvested the hemp and buried it in the retting pit, the leader of the Donkey Tribe also set out to trade with distant tribes using the goods they had exchanged from the Green Sparrow Tribe.

Compared to his former enthusiasm, the leader of the Donkey Tribe now appeared more reserved.

His silence was understandable. As trading continued, the fur supplies from the surrounding tribes had already been mostly exchanged for their precious pottery and salt.

It had become increasingly difficult to obtain large quantities of fur from these tribes.

He could only lead his people further afield, carrying pottery and salt on their backs. Only those tribes that had never traded could still offer a substantial amount of fur.

The ever-lengthening journeys were a significant burden for the people of the Donkey Tribe.

This was why the leader of the Donkey Tribe had become more reserved…

Cao Geng picked a few early-ripening fruits and placed them in the grass basket on his back.

He had scars on his body, and his already crooked nose had become even more bent.

The second leader of the Flying Snake Tribe hit him, and the reason for the beating was simple.

Despite waiting here for so long, the black tribe Cao Geng had mentioned had never appeared.

After placing the fruit in his basket, Cao Geng straightened up and looked again from where the black tribe had once come. All he saw were trees and wild grass.

The black tribe was still nowhere to be seen, just like the herd of deer he had hoped to encounter.

Cao Geng's longing for the black tribe had surpassed his desire for the deer.

If the deer didn’t come, he might go without some meat, but if the black tribe didn’t come soon, he feared he would be beaten again in a few days.

“Damn it!” Cao Geng cursed anxiously. Because of his crooked nose, his voice sounded muffled.

But after cursing, all he could do was continue to wait…

“There! Look!” A man from the Donkey Tribe, carrying three nested pottery jars, excitedly pointed ahead.

The somewhat dazed leader of the Donkey Tribe quickly focused his gaze…

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