I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 128 – Taste from Childhood
After experiencing this incident, Han Cheng emerged from the initial two days of fervor.
Silkworms were important, but like elusive cabbages, they were not something to be rushed.
Not to mention that there were still no traces of silkworms found. Even if they were found now, it wouldn’t make much sense for Han Cheng.
This lack of significance doesn’t refer to anything else, but even if there were silkworms, they had already turned into pupae. It would be more convenient to let them grow in the wild. When autumn arrived, and the leaves fell, Han Cheng could easily find the silkworm cocoons hanging on the bare branches of mulberry trees.
After all, silkworm cocoons, much larger than silkworm droppings, hanging conspicuously on bare branches, would be much easier to spot.
Moreover, with rapeseed about to mature, making pitchforks was more urgent.
Perhaps because they had spread enough grass and wood ash in the first field of the Green Sparrow Tribe and also irrigated it with a lot of natural green manure made by the Green Sparrow Tribe, along with the nutrient contributions from rabbits and deer, and careful care from the Green Sparrow Tribe people led by Han Cheng, this year’s rapeseed grew exceptionally well. It was far superior to when it grew mixed with weeds in the wild.
With robust rapeseed, it was impossible to dry it all at once on the threshing ground.
After no idle space was left on the threshing ground, the newly harvested rapeseed, under Han Cheng’s guidance, was all piled up at the edge of the threshing ground.
Similar to storing hay, some logs were laid flat on the ground to separate them, and then some branches were placed on the logs before stacking the rapeseed.
When there was not much rapeseed, one could simply drop the rapeseed held in the arms or carried on the shoulders here. When the rapeseed stacks were higher than the person transporting the rapeseed, a pitchfork had to be used.
Under Han Cheng’s tireless guidance, these people who had been learning for more than a day finally learned to use the pitchfork, at least not as unfamiliar as before.
As Ru Hua carried a bundle of rapeseed, she walked from the rapeseed field to the front of the rapeseed stack. She lowered her right shoulder, and the bundle of rapeseed on her shoulder fell to the ground.
She straightened up for a moment, then turned around and walked towards the rapeseed field, ignoring the rapeseed bundles on the ground. There would be someone coming to put them on the rapeseed stack.
Mu Tou, the person in charge of flipping the field, walked over with a peeled and white pitchfork in his hand.
With the right hand in front and the left behind, the pitchfork tines were close to the ground and inserted under the rapeseed bundle. Then, the right leg slightly advanced, and both arms exerted force. He lifted the rapeseed bundle.
Without stopping, he raised his right hand while the left hand pressed down on the pitchfork handle, bringing it down with a little force. In this way, the pitchfork, along with the rapeseed on it, exceeded the top of his head.
Mu Tou pushed his right hand forward while pushing down on the pitchfork with his left hand below. The pitchfork and the rapeseed on it would cross a small half-circle in the air and be placed on the high rapeseed stack.
When removing the pitchfork, he pressed it down a little and then pulled it out. This ensured that the rapeseed placed on the stack would not fall.
Under the cool breeze at the entrance, Han Cheng, enjoying the view, watched Mu Tou’s smooth movements and nodded in approval. Not bad, he’s a talent that can be molded.
Indeed, watching others do farm work while hiding in the shade is comfortable.
This is the same principle as many people like rural life.
What they like about rural life is being clean, coming to the countryside, feeling the breeze of nature, smelling the fragrance of the soil, and then marveling at the old farmer constantly hoeing and weeding.
In the mood, perhaps they might even compose a couple of poems to praise the beautiful pastoral scenery and envy the old farmer who can have all these intoxicating things.
Once immersed in rural life, spending a few days eating, living, and working with the old farmers, that sense of picking chrysanthemums by the east fence and leisurely viewing the southern mountains would immediately vanish.
Taking a few steps outside, Han Cheng looked at Iron Head and others bending over to harvest rapeseed in the rapeseed field. Then he glanced at the threshing ground in the courtyard, where Mu Tou was flipping the rapeseed with a wooden fork. Suddenly, he felt a bit lost.
There was a feeling of returning to primary school, laboring in the fields with the adults during busy farming times.
During the summers, when wheat was harvested, and in autumn, during the harvest of peanuts and corn, the school used to grant a week off to help families with the summer and autumn harvests.
Working in the field under the scorching sun, flipping wheat, or gathering the fallen wheat in the middle of the field, he had done a fair share of these tasks.
If, during those times, someone appeared riding a bicycle with a large beam, carrying a white foam box behind them, that would be the most joyful thing.
Opening the white blanket wrapped around the plastic box, a white mist emerged. Taking out a popsicle that cost twenty cents each and carefully licking it, it felt as if the scorching heat had disappeared.
Roasting slightly immature wheat with fire was delicious. In autumn, roasting large green grasshoppers with fire was also tasty, especially the golden eggs inside their abdomen that had not yet been expelled. Eating them was a mix of flavors, with a crunchy, bony chest full of chicken flavor after biting.
Of course, sweet potatoes roasted with dried cow dung were a childhood delicacy.
It’s a pity, however, that one would never return to the childhood that required little worry and was easily satisfied.
Shaking his head, Han Cheng pulled his thoughts back from the past, storing all those memories in his heart and reevaluating everything that needed to be faced.
After over two days of flipping and drying, the rapeseed spread on the threshing ground had turned brown.
Without sturdy tools made from iron, even for a time traveler like Han Cheng, it was impossible to manufacture a stone roller for the threshing ground.
There was no other way, so people had to use a wooden fork to pat it down individually.
With each part of the fork, many rapeseed pods couldn’t bear the pressure, choosing to burst open and release the seeds they had been nurturing.
Under Han Cheng’s demonstration, Mu Tou and the others took wooden forks and patted the rapeseed in front of them. Then, they flipped it over and continued patting.
After another round of patting, they used the fork to lift and shake the maltreated rapeseed, making them loose. Then, they subjected them to the intense sunlight.
Meanwhile, Mu Tou and the others continued using wooden forks to pat the remaining rapeseed, ensuring even exposure to the sun. This method aimed to prevent uneven drying. Some slightly damp, resistant rapeseed pods wouldn’t give up their hidden seeds until thoroughly dried by the scorching sun and warm winds.