I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 883 – Digging Wells and Kaolin
In the early morning, a fine drizzle fell outside. Inside the cave of the Creek Tribe, a fire had been lit.
The flickering flames illuminated the cave and the people within it.
Not far from the fire, someone lay on the ground.
This person appeared old, their body dried out, with little flesh remaining.
They lay completely still. Even as the fire’s heat scorched their skin, almost burning them, they did not move.
The reason they could remain so calm and patient was not because of any special skill—it was because they were already dead.
This deceased person was the Creek Tribe elder who, after eating a large amount of the new white food yesterday, had rushed to the toilet many times but ultimately could not relieve herself.
Her death was far from peaceful; even now, her body remained contorted.
Inside the Creek Tribe’s cave, those present appeared extremely saddened; the atmosphere was heavy and oppressive.
Their sorrow was not entirely for the elder’s death. More significantly, her death revealed a grim truth: the new white food, in which they had placed so much hope and which had brought them joy, was inedible—consuming too much would be fatal.
This news was unbearably tragic for the Creek Tribe.
Even the older female members of the tribe did not rejoice that they had avoided trying this food; instead, they sank into deep grief.
Something that looked so good, tasted acceptable, how could it be deadly?
Although deeply saddened and resentful, no one dared to try it again.
This was not only because the elder had died, but also because she had suffered immensely.
Her agonized screams, the pain of a whole but unrelievable stomach, were enough to terrify anyone from touching the food again.
After the shock of realizing that a once-promising new food could be lethal, many grew fearful.
They recalled that yesterday, they had all tried some of this substance themselves.
Although they had not yet experienced stomach pain or symptoms like the elder, the thought alone was frightening.
“ERT#$!”
The Creek Tribe leader, staring at the dead elder and recalling her suffering, could no longer remain calm.
After all, yesterday, before the elder was instructed to increase her intake for testing, many in the tribe had consumed some of this terrible substance.
If they all died…
He ordered the remaining food thrown out of the cave, as far as possible.
He did not want it in the cave for even a moment longer, fearing more deaths.
“#￥% Green Sparrow Tribe, Divine Child #￥ salt…”
Not everyone was frightened enough to discard the substance. Some worshippers of the Green Sparrow Tribe mentioned it, speaking of the Divine Child and salt.
For years, the tribe had traded unfamiliar stones, young wild animals, and seeds for salt.
However, as most items had already been traded, new objects were scarce, and people had gradually grown indifferent.
Upon hearing this, the Creek Tribe leader and others’ eyes brightened. Joy surged in their hearts—they had grasped a lifeline.
Trading this newly discovered substance for salt was secondary. Most importantly, they could seek the wise Divine Child, asking what the new food truly was, and whether those who had eaten only a little would also suffer a painful death like the elder.
Someone suggested setting out immediately, bringing the frightening white clay-like substance to the Green Sparrow Tribe to seek the wisdom of the Divine Child.
However, the Creek Tribe leader hesitated. The tribe lacked sufficient food for the journey, and it was still raining.
The Green Sparrow Tribe was nearly two days’ travel away; walking through such rain was far from ideal.
Yet his hesitation vanished quickly—not because someone said something inspiring, but because several tribe members had begun experiencing stomach pains and bloating.
Though not as severe as the elder’s, it was terrifying enough.
As a result, the Creek Tribe became anxious.
Their sorrow over the inedible substance gave way to fear for their survival.
In this state, the Creek Tribe leader ceased hesitating and led his people toward the strong, benevolent Green Sparrow Tribe.
Everyone who had eaten the deadly white substance yesterday followed; none were left behind.
On the journey, they walked swiftly, more eagerly than when hunting.
They had no choice: over half of those who had eaten the white food were now experiencing abdominal pain or bloating.
Driven by fear and the threat of death, there was no room for hesitation.
The Creek Tribe leader clutched the animal-skin bundle fearfully.
If it were not for the need for the Divine Child to inspect it, he would have thrown it far away without hesitation.
“#4 Divine Child!”
He shouted, calming his panicked tribe members.
At this moment, all their hopes rested on the wisdom of the Divine Child, praying he could resolve their predicament.
The dark clouds gradually dispersed, revealing a pale sun.
After over half an hour, sunlight grew bright, marking the end of a three-and-a-half-day rainfall.
Within the Green Sparrow Tribe, seeing the sun brought smiles to many faces—even Han Cheng, who loved rain, felt pure joy.
Listening to or watching rain for a short time was fine, but prolonged dampness became uncomfortable, seeping into everything.
Moreover, the Green Sparrow Tribe relied on agriculture; prolonged rain hindered crop growth.
As a figure akin to a landowner, Han Cheng could not ignore crops in favor of idling.
After the rain, weeds grew rapidly in the fields.
Though the tribe regularly hoes them, rain encourages explosive growth.
However, the soil was still too muddy to work; they had to wait a day or so for it to firm up.
Without replenishing rain, the river near the tribe gradually calmed, leaving floating debris along the banks.
The water remained murky; it would take a day or two to clear.
Drinking water became difficult; filling a container required nearly half a day to settle.
After a half-day of rain, the villagers placed many water storage containers under eaves to catch rainwater.
It was now time to dig two wells for drinking water.
Han Cheng considered the murky river water and the tribe’s recurrent water difficulties during rain, concluding it was the right time.
Eldest Senior Brother and others would take a long time to return; before then, there was enough time to dig two wells.
Without hesitation, Han Cheng implemented the plan.
“Divine Child, what is a well?”
Upon hearing Han Cheng’s explanation, Wu looked confused.
“It’s a deep pit dug in the ground, from which water emerges. Once prepared, it becomes a well.
A well is like a large water jar for drinking water, except the water never runs out. Drink some, and more springs up.
With wells, we no longer need to fetch water from the river—very convenient.
Even after heavy rain, well water stays clear.
Also, well water is warm in winter, cool in summer; soaking fruit in it improves taste, washing your face is pleasant, and in winter, it won’t chill your hands.”
Han Cheng smiled as he explained the benefits.
“You can think of it like a spring, similar to the one near Salt Mountain, except wells are deeper and wider to hold more water.”
Shaman’s understanding brightened immediately.
Hearing this, others nearby—Hei Wa, Shitou, Third Senior Brother—were also thrilled.
“Divine Child, will it… flow out like the spring?”
Shitou, observant of details others missed, worried that, like the spring near Salt Mountain, the well might overflow and require channels to divert the water.
“No.”
Han Cheng explained calmly:
“The well is deep; once water reaches a certain level, it stops rising. Drink some, and it springs up, but it will not overflow.
Unless you strike a powerful underground water vein and create a geyser, well water will stay contained.”
Everyone marveled at the well’s properties.
After brief explanations, the tribe began digging the first well.
No one disagreed with Han Cheng’s plan.
The well’s location was naturally near the kitchen for convenience.
Following local wisdom, wells were said to bring harmony; placement was not an issue.
A circle with a diameter of 2.5 meters was drawn, bamboo lit inside as symbolic firecrackers, and work began immediately.
Rain-soaked soil was easy to dig, and good tools sped progress; within a short time, they dug to a depth of half a meter.
As the well deepened, digging slowed. At one meter, progress became laborious.
The tribe’s copper shovels and mattocks were too long for the confined space.
Han Cheng instructed Lame to shorten the handles, resolving the issue.
Though less comfortable, the shorter tools sped the work.
Only a few people were needed; the well could not accommodate too many diggers.
After digging over a meter, two people dug alternately.
Once the kitchen well was set, Han Cheng had another circle drawn near the livestock enclosure to dig a second well for animals.
Winter-warm water from this well would be far better than ice-cold river water.
Usually, humans did not drink this well water, especially after prolonged rainy seasons.
Rainwater draining from animal pens could seep into the well, sometimes turning it yellow for a few days.
Meanwhile, the Creek Tribe, led by their chief, hurried toward the Green Sparrow Tribe.
“#￥WE Green Sparrow!”
Seeing the Green Sparrow Tribe walls in the distance, they cheered and quickened their pace.
Soon, they paused. Green Sparrow Tribe’s dogs, roaming around the perimeter, had noticed them, barking as they blocked the way.
The Creek Tribe chief knew better than to charge or flee; the dogs would not attack if they remained calm.
They waited for Green Sparrow Tribe members to arrive.
Soon, a group of armed people emerged.
“Creek! Creek! Green Sparrow!”
The Creek Tribe chief shouted, announcing their identity.
Upon hearing this, the Green Sparrow Tribe members relaxed and smiled, approaching cautiously. They confirmed the visitors’ identities, then called off the dogs and escorted them into the tribe.
“#￥% Divine Child, it hurts…”
Along the way, Green Sparrow Tribe members inquired about their purpose. The Creek Tribe chief gestured and spoke anxiously, explaining the situation.
“Have them wait outside. I’ll see them,” Han Cheng said.
He feared contagion if they entered the tribe prematurely.
He quickly provided fine linen masks for everyone, including himself.
Though primitive, the masks offered some protection and reassurance.
When Han Cheng arrived, the Creek Tribe chief and his people knelt, bowing low in mixed language, some uttering phrases with traces of modern Mandarin.
Those with bloated or painful stomachs were even more devout, praying that the wise Divine Child could heal them and prevent them from dying like the elder.
“Show me that substance.”
Once Han Cheng understood the situation, he breathed a sigh of relief and removed his mask.
The Creek Tribe chief cautiously opened the animal-skin bundle, revealing its contents.
Upon seeing the white clay-like substance, everyone—including the chief—stepped back, fear evident in their eyes.
The Green Sparrow Tribe members, realizing the situation, also became tense, some stepping protectively in front of Han Cheng.
“It’s fine. As long as it’s not eaten, it won’t harm anyone.”
Seeing the tribe so tense, Han Cheng’s heart raced slightly, but he reassured them and stepped toward the white substance, lips dry and steps trembling slightly.
It wasn’t weakness—it was recognition. Based on the symptoms described and the substance’s appearance, he realized it was another type of material: Guanyin Earth!
A type of clay people ate in times of famine when desperate.
As someone familiar with history, Han Cheng knew its effects: indigestible, causing abdominal pain, bloating, and constipation, often resulting in death.
What excited Han Cheng most, however, was another name for Guanyin Earth: Kaolin.