I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 825 – “Happy Shu Pi and the Blue Flower Tribe Chief
“Clang!”
“Thud!”
Outside the Black Stone Tribe’s cave, still holding remnants of snow, Shu Pi—finally allowed to use a bow and arrow again—aimed at a tree stump in the distance. One arrow after another struck, embedding itself with a crisp “thud” sound.
Compared to before, Shu Pi’s archery had noticeably declined, a result of prolonged inactivity with the bow.
Now that he was allowed to wield the bow again, Shu Pi practiced diligently, determined to improve his skill quickly.
He had learned from the Black Stone Tribe members that, once the weather warmed further, the tribes subservient to the Black Stone Tribe would come to deliver food.
The Blue Flower Tribe, one of these subservient tribes, would indeed arrive. If Shu Pi did not improve his archery in time, he would be ill-prepared.
In truth, Shu Pi hoped the Blue Flower Tribe would not come—because if they did, the Black Stone Tribe chief would lead people to attack them. As part of the Black Stone Tribe, he would have to fight as well.
However, this hope was unlikely to be realized. Apart from initial resistance by some tribes, most subservient tribes no longer rebelled.
As Shu Pi practiced archery day after day, temperatures gradually rose.
From withered yellow grass roots, tender shoots sprouted. Bare tree branches produced small buds, and wildflowers began to appear on the fields where snow had melted entirely.
During this period, tribes subservient to the Black Stone Tribe began arriving to deliver food.
The earliest arrivals mainly were tribes that Shu Pi’s tribe had captured.
Because these tribes now had abundant food, they were generous in their offerings—no longer stingy like before.
Every time a tribe delivered food, Shu Pi carefully adjusted his bow and arrows. Yet among all arrivals, not a single one was the Blue Flower Tribe.
Time and again, Shu Pi felt disappointed, while secretly hoping the Blue Flower Tribe wouldn’t come to pay tribute.
“Yell!”
Further south, the Blue Flower Tribe chief raised her voice loudly.
A group she had selected followed her command, carrying the food meant for the Black Stone Tribe, along with their own rations, and holding simple weapons. They marched forward alongside their chief.
Among the subservient tribes that hadn’t been captured by Shu Pi’s tribe, the Blue Flower Tribe was the first to deliver food.
This wasn’t because they had harvested faster than others, but because their chief had forced them to save most of their food for the tribute instead of eating freely.
In previous years, such actions might have caused resentment, but this time, even the hungry villagers showed no complaint. Instead, carrying their carefully saved food toward the Black Stone Tribe, they smiled, excited, eager to confront the dreaded Black Stone Tribe sooner rather than later.
The reason for this change was the chief’s grand plan. Before the journey, she explained to her people that they were going to meet Shu Pi and obtain two magical tools capable of yielding abundant food.
With these tools, the tribe’s life would improve dramatically, rivaling other tribes that already possessed them.
Whether the plan succeeded wasn’t their concern—they trusted their chief implicitly.
The Blue Flower Tribe chief’s wisdom was recognized throughout her tribe. Without such intelligence, she could never have become chief as a woman.
With food and excitement, they marched toward the Black Stone Tribe. Those remaining in the Blue Flower Tribe watched the departing chief and her followers with anticipation, hoping for the promised better life.
A fine spring rain fell, greening willows and reddening peach blossoms. Swallows skimmed close to the ground. In the Green Sparrow Tribe, the first batch of crops was planted.
“Ha!”
Standing on a wooden rake fitted with bronze teeth, the eldest Senior Brother shouted and shook the reins.
The donkeys pulling the rake moved forward. The rake’s teeth dug twelve to thirteen centimeters into the soil, leaving furrows.
The soil, plowed in autumn and softened through winter’s freeze and thaw, now broke easily.
The wooden rake leveled the land efficiently, creating a fine seedbed.
Plowing before heavy snow also killed underground pests and eggs, reducing crop diseases.
The eldest Senior Brother didn’t simply walk from one end to the other. Instead, he started at one corner and moved diagonally, creating a figure-eight pattern, minimizing unnecessary turns and improving efficiency.
This method, suggested by Han Cheng, was mastered by the eldest Senior Brother and then taught to others.
While plowing occurred, skilled sowers used deer to carry seeds, planting carefully in the prepared soil.
“Cuckoo! Cuckoo!”
Hearing the cuckoo’s call from afar, Bai Xue, working in the silkworm room, instinctively placed a hand on her stomach. She realized no discomfort occurred and relaxed.
This reaction stemmed from Han Cheng’s playful explanation: the cuckoo said, “Cuckoo! Silkworm caretaker will have diarrhea!” The bird supposedly intended to eat silkworms, but the caretaker’s presence scared it, so it called repeatedly, wishing to make the caretaker’s stomach upset and give it a chance to snatch the silkworms.
Initially skeptical, Bai Xue eventually convinced herself that the cuckoo was indeed saying those words.
Over time, she learned a simple truth: external influence matters little compared to one’s own actions. The cuckoo couldn’t cause her stomach problems unless she misbehaved—an innocent lesson in practical materialism.
“Little sister, little sister, little sister…”
Little Pea leaned over a cradle, repeatedly calling and waving a small flower branch at baby Han Xing, who giggled and kicked, thrilled.
Seeing this, Little Pea laughed harder and continued shaking the flower branch.
Bai Xue, adding mulberry leaves to the silkworm tray, glanced over and smiled at the joyful scene.
Far away, the Blue Flower Tribe chief, having traveled with her people and carried their food, finally arrived at the Black Stone Tribe.
Excitedly, she shouted upon seeing the destination, and her followers cheered.
They were here to obtain the two tools that would transform their tribe’s life!
Squatting nearby, Shu Pi, sharpening arrowheads, noticed the commotion. Along with other Black Stone Tribe members, he looked toward the approaching Blue Flower Tribe chief.
Seeing who was coming, Shu Pi’s heart leapt. He stood abruptly, tightly gripping his bow and arrows.
The Blue Flower Tribe chief, spotting Shu Pi, accelerated, moving quickly toward him.
Shu Pi held his bow tightly, but carefully did not attack. He knew killing the chief now would provoke her followers, risking his life.
Instead, he relaxed his grip, placing an unfinished arrow back into the quiver, and smiled at her approach.
People grow and change with their environment and experiences.
In the year-plus he had spent with the Black Stone Tribe, Shu Pi learned much, especially patience and endurance. His earlier failure with the heated stone kang and the beating from the chief had taught him resilience.
Seeing Shu Pi smile, the Blue Flower Tribe chief beamed. She was confident—this simple-minded fellow had no idea of past events. The plan could proceed smoothly.
They greeted each other and, under the watch of Black Stone Tribe members, moved a short distance from the cave entrance.
About forty to fifty meters away, they stopped. Without instruction, they carefully placed their weapons on the ground and arranged the food on a large flat stone.
At this moment, the Black Stone Tribe chief emerged, carrying the tribe’s sharpest weapons and longest-range bow.
After confirming the Blue Flower Tribe chief and her tribe’s identity, he examined the delivered food.
Satisfied, he nodded. Though not as plentiful as offerings from tribes with fish traps and bows, it was generous compared to past years. Clearly, the Blue Flower Tribe had not cheated.
He pointed toward the direction they came from, signaling, “Food received. You’re no longer needed here. Leave.”
The Blue Flower Tribe chief understood. In past years, this meant retreat immediately. But this time was different—she had a purpose. She would not leave until it was achieved, even if it meant her people endured hunger to participate.
Gesturing animatedly, the Blue Flower Tribe chief made it clear she did not want to leave.
The Black Stone Tribe chief frowned, tightening his weapon. Did they expect his tribe to feed them?
His anger flared, yet cooled quickly when the Blue Flower Tribe chief removed her fur cloak, revealing a strong physique. She grabbed his arm and led him toward a nearby patch of dry grass.
Spring was in the air. Though early, the Black Stone Tribe chief felt the season’s energy. Moreover, the Blue Flower Tribe chief’s strong figure, considered beautiful by contemporary standards, naturally drew him along.
With both chiefs moving, the remaining tribe members followed suit. Such actions might seem strange today, but they were common in that era. Tribes needed new blood for survival.
The two chiefs entered the grass first, returning shortly thereafter. The Blue Flower Tribe chief appeared energetic; the Black Stone Tribe chief looked drowsy.
Seeing Shu Pi squatting nearby, the Blue Flower Tribe chief smiled, relieved he had not left.
“Yell!”
She extended her hand to Shu Pi.
He grasped it eagerly, standing and following her into the dry grass.
Observing Shu Pi’s bow and quiver, the chief’s excitement intensified. Soon, her tribe would possess these tools.
Together, they moved deeper into the tall grass. Shu Pi removed his bow and quiver, setting them aside. The Blue Flower Tribe chief eagerly inspected them, imagining how her tribe would benefit.
Finally, lying in the dry grass, she began her long-anticipated plan.
She asked Shu Pi to show her the bow and explain its use.
Shu Pi, slow-witted and trusting, immediately handed over the bow without hesitation.
The Blue Flower Tribe chief sat upright, clutching the bow tightly, thrilled.
Shu Pi drew an arrow from his quiver, tossing the empty quiver aside…