I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 888 – Actually, Humans Have Always Been Evolving
Watching the person’s face flushed red and neck thick from exhaustion, Han Cheng tried turning the pulley himself for a while, only to awkwardly realize that the pulley he had made was actually more tiring to use than simply pulling the soil up with a rope.
When the bucket was empty, moving it felt fine, but once it was filled with soil, turning it was truly exhausting.
After a brief inspection, Han Cheng and Lame quickly identified the problem.
It wasn’t that the pulley had been poorly made—it was that the frame hadn’t been properly constructed.
Once the bucket was filled with soil, it would press heavily against the split in the frame, making turning extremely laborious.
After recognizing the issue, the solution became straightforward.
For a tribe capable of making two-wheeled donkey carts, this was no serious problem. By installing bronze bearings on the cart wheels at both ends and slightly modifying the frame, the problem could be solved.
“Come on, try it again—see if it works better now,” Han Cheng said with a smile to the person who had been exhausted before.
Hearing this, the man gripped the pulley handle again.
At first, he used both hands, applying great force.
But after two turns, he realized that the improved pulley was much easier to use than before.
After a few more rotations, he was able to turn it with just one hand—without feeling overly strained.
“Great! It’s amazing!”
After hauling a whole bucket of soil with one hand, he exclaimed excitedly, loudly praising the pulley’s effectiveness.
At moments like this, the shaman was inevitably present.
Seeing that a full bucket could now be lifted with just one hand, the shaman couldn’t resist. He told Han Cheng that he wanted to try this new tool as well.
Han Cheng hesitated briefly but agreed. However, while the shaman experimented, Han Cheng stood nearby, ready to take over the handle if the shaman couldn’t turn it.
“All right! Pull!”
The empty bucket was lowered into the well. After a short while, the signal that the bucket was full of soil came from below.
The shaman, encouraged, gripped the handle with both hands and began turning vigorously.
After two rotations, he found it far easier than he had expected, which immediately excited him and sped up his motion.
Watching this, Han Cheng, who had been standing by ready to intervene, couldn’t help but inhale sharply—“The shaman is still sharp as ever!”
After hauling up a full bucket, Han Cheng didn’t let him pull it out by hand. Instead, he bent down and moved the bucket to the well’s edge himself.
The shaman was old. While using the pulley to lift heavy buckets from the well was feasible, pulling it by hand would have been impossible.
His face and neck were flushed—not from exhaustion, but from excitement.
He was old; his strength was diminished. Usually, he couldn’t have lifted such a heavy bucket.
But now, not only could he lift it, but it didn’t feel particularly strenuous.
This, in turn, proved he was still relatively vigorous, which thrilled the shaman.
Moreover, he began thinking about other possibilities.
He glanced at Han Cheng, standing nearby, round and solid-bodied, and remembered the fatigue he felt at night while sleeping.
If the Divine Child could also create a tool for this task—something that reduced effort—how wonderful it would be!
It didn’t need to be as efficient as the pulley—even half the effort reduction would suffice…
This thought excited him immensely. He felt as if he had discovered something extraordinary.
After standing there a while, the shaman could no longer contain himself.
“Divine Child, I… I have something to tell you,” he said excitedly, walking to a quieter spot.
Han Cheng, seeing his agitation, smiled.
Humans, in childhood, long for adulthood. As adults, they envy elders who can live leisurely. And once elderly, they envy youth and vigor.
Han Cheng understood this—he could roughly understand the shaman’s excitement.
It wasn’t just the pulley; it was the feeling of strength regained, the reminder of youth.
However, when Han Cheng followed the shaman to a quiet corner and heard what he wanted to say, he realized he had completely misjudged the situation.
Looking at the shaman’s excited, expectant expression, Han Cheng’s eyes widened—he felt as if struck by lightning.
He turned stiffly to look at the pulley over the well, then back at the shaman.
The pulley was such a serious, highly beneficial tool for the tribe…
Yet, in the shaman’s eyes, everything suddenly seemed not so serious.
Shaman, what exactly are you thinking? How did you associate the pulley with… sleeping arrangements and get yourself so excited?
Even someone with countless experiences like Han Cheng couldn’t help but shake his head. People change, especially after marriage.
The shaman, now living a happy old age, thought in ways that even Han Cheng, a modern man, found astonishing—and slightly embarrassing.
“Shaman, such a tool doesn’t exist, the tribe can’t make it,” Han Cheng said, cruelly shattering the shaman’s dream.
Excited by his own idea, the shaman immediately deflated. He looked at the people nearby and felt utterly exhausted.
Han Cheng couldn’t resist commenting further:
“Back in the cave, you’ve seen elders experience joy without doing much. If one person moves the pulley while everyone else stays still, isn’t that the most efficient? Why invent strange tools?”
The shaman’s eyes brightened with realization and a hint of regret.
“You’re right, Divine Child! How did I not think of this?”
“Divine Child, amazing!” the shaman said sincerely, giving a thumbs-up.
0
Han Cheng’s face twitched. He had received many compliments in life, but this one was the last thing he wanted.
The shaman strutted away, chest high and head held up, almost walking on air.
Once the pulley was successfully constructed, excitement spread.
The children of the tribe were especially delighted, often gathering to take turns turning the pulley—just like Han Cheng and his peers had once competed to pump water.
Unlike later mechanized pumps, this pulley’s well was open at the top. Once the well was built correctly, a large cover would be needed to protect it, opening only during water collection.
“Water! Divine Child! There’s water in the well!”
While Han Cheng was considering these details, a shout came from the well.
He ran to the well edge and peered in, seeing the digger excitedly calling out.
“How much water?” Han Cheng asked, a note of excitement in his voice.
“Not much—just started!” the digger replied.
“Dig a little deeper! More!” Han Cheng raised his voice.
Digging deeper not only strengthened the spring but also increased water storage.
The tribe had many people, and daily needs like cooking, washing, and drinking required substantial water. A shallow well would be insufficient.
“Okay!” the digger answered, taking up the copper hoe and digging hard.
After a while, he called for a bucket to be lowered for soil collection.
“All right! Pull!”
Once a bucket was about 70% full, the person above turned the pulley. Moments later, the soil emerged—wet and dripping with muddy water.
Those who hadn’t gone outside gathered around, thrilled.
This meant the tribe, under the Divine Child’s guidance, had accomplished yet another unprecedented feat.
From now on, besides rain, river, and snow water, the tribe had a new source of drinking water: well water—obtained by their own effort under Han Cheng’s guidance.
This pride and sense of achievement were something modern people, accustomed to tap water, could hardly comprehend.
“Bring a water jar! Let’s taste it!” Han Cheng excitedly instructed.
Someone ran to the kitchen, bringing an empty water jar and a ceramic ladle.
The ladle was lowered into the well, tied to the pulley’s hook. Care was taken not to let it drop too fast.
Once it reached the bottom, the digger lifted it carefully and scooped up the water.
Because the well had been dug deeper, some water had already accumulated.
As the pulley turned, a murky bucket of water emerged.
Han Cheng eagerly scooped a half-ladle, waiting for the water to clarify, feeling somewhat anxious.
Even shallow healthy water depended on luck. The primary concern wasn’t reaching water—it was whether the underground water was drinkable.
Water quality could vary even a few meters apart. Some tasted fine; some left sediment when boiled.
Han Cheng’s caution was prudent. Contaminated water could harm health in an era with limited medicine.
Finally, the water had cleared slightly. Han Cheng took a small sip.
Freshly drawn underground water—calm, sweet, and delicious—relieved him instantly.
“Divine Child, is it good?”
The shaman and others eagerly asked.
Han Cheng first spat out the water, causing worry among the onlookers.
“This water is delicious! Truly excellent! Everyone, try it!” he said warmly, praising the well water.
“Just taste it—don’t swallow yet, it’s not fully clear,” he added.
The onlookers understood immediately and began tasting the slightly murky water, grinning with delight at its sweetness.
About half a day later, a second well near the livestock pens also produced water, further exciting the tribe.
Meanwhile, Han Cheng supervised deepening the wells and directed some tribe members to transport stones from the quarry.
These stones would line the wells, preventing collapse, extending lifespan, and keeping the water clean.
Under Han Cheng’s guidance, four days later, the two wells of the Green Sparrow Tribe were entirely constructed.
Large stone slabs, each weighing around 700–800 jin, were placed over the wells, and the circular wells were made square on top, with pulleys installed—a proper and practical setup.
“Bring the fish.”
Han Cheng looked into the well—the water reflected a small patch of sky and his own silhouette.
There was enough water to put the fish in.
Second Senior Brother brought a basin with four carp, roughly a foot long. Their fins and tails were slightly red, with whiskers by their mouths.
Han Cheng took two carp and gently tossed them into the water.
The fish splashed, sending ripples across the surface, then disappeared beneath the water.
He and Second Senior Brother repeated the process at the other well with the remaining carp.
Han Cheng smiled, not because he expected them to turn into dragons over years, but because of the practical benefits:
Carp eat larvae and insects, keeping the water clean.
Carp act as indicators of water quality, preventing poisoning.
Two carp are safer than one, and less lonely.
Sex of the fish—male or female—was not a concern.
As Han Cheng squatted by the well, smiling at the fish, the Green Sparrow Tribe’s northern expedition, led by First Senior Brother, finally reached the territory of the Black Stone Tribe’s allied forces after a long journey.