I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 192 – Gradually drifting apart
The sunlight filtered through, withered leaves falling to the ground, creating a faint sound, carrying a kind of serene, deathly beauty.
“Splut!”
The ripe fruits, hot to the touch, bursting with juice, couldn’t hold on any longer. With just a breeze passing by, they trembled as if electrified, tumbling from the branches, spilling their juices.
This unusual sound shattered the unique tranquility.
“Rustle, rustle…”
As if that sound had opened some sort of floodgate, the forest became restless, no longer peaceful.
As the rustling drew nearer and grew louder, a group of primitive people wrapped in fur, carrying baskets and weapons, appeared near the orchard.
Seeing the fallen fruits on the ground, the Eldest Senior Brother’s eyes showed a regretful expression, followed by relief.
He didn’t rush into the vast orchard but led his men to circle it, cautiously surveying the surroundings.
After completing a circuit, the Eldest Senior Brother finally relaxed.
Seeing the abundance of fallen fruits and no signs of recently broken branches, it was clear that no one had visited this orchard before them.
“Pick!”
After confirming it was safe, the Eldest Senior Brother gave the command, and everyone put down their weapons and swiftly began picking fruits.
Shang, the leader of the original Pig Tribe, tightly gripped a stone spear and a rock in his hand, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a crimson tint.
Noticing Shang’s unease, the Eldest Senior Brother approached and patted him on the shoulder, saying, “We all remember!”
After a while, Shang reluctantly exhaled, nodding vigorously at the Eldest Senior Brother and then putting down the spear and stone to join the others in picking fruits.
Though they were almost certain that the hostile tribe that had caused them great losses wouldn’t return to this orchard, the Eldest Senior Brother remained cautious, ensuring that everyone gathered the fruits together after picking them, to avoid dispersing.
The appearance of hooks and baskets made transporting the fruits back to the tribe much more convenient and efficient compared to last year when they used rope-bound clay pots and carrying poles.
Even with this method, efficiency surpassed the previous method of wrapping fruits in animal skins and carrying them back.
“Bang!”
A stone hit the trunk, bouncing off and rolling into the nearby dry grass. Startled, a beast, unseen in detail, fled into the thicket, leaving only a ripple in the grass before disappearing.
“Run fast!”
The second brother, carrying a basket, watched the fleeing creature and remarked as he put away the stone he had been about to throw. Then, he hoisted his basket and continued walking.
Inside his filled basket were fruits and a few small game animals, one of them a tail-wagging creature, unmistakably a squirrel known for burying things in the ground.
The people in the tribe seemed excited because they had encountered quite a few game animals on their journey, more than usual when they went hunting.
It seemed that the traps for rabbits crafted by the “Divine Child” could be placed even further from the tribe.
It could be foreseen that this would surely be another bountiful harvest!
It was strange; back when the tribe lacked food and clothing, these animals were nowhere to be seen. But now that the tribe’s life had improved and food was plentiful, these creatures had reemerged.
As the Eldest Senior Brother and his companions walked back while picking fruits, they occasionally discussed their doubts, vaguely concluding akin to “the rich get richer, the poor get poorer.”
Seeing the small game their companions casually caught along the way and hearing their puzzled discussions about this phenomenon, Han Cheng couldn’t help but smile.
Over the past year or two, the Green Sparrow Tribe had focused solely on development and rarely went hunting. With fewer predators hunting, the creatures that benefited from the opportunity to breed naturally multiplied in number, especially the species frequently hunted by the Green Sparrow Tribe, which saw even faster growth.
This was good; when the time came to focus on hunting again, they would surely have a bountiful harvest.
The orchard wasn’t too far from the Green Sparrow Tribe’s settlement. With nearly half the population picking fruits and the improved transportation methods, it didn’t take long before the caves were filled with plenty of fruits.
Han Cheng climbed up the ladder onto the tall wall, standing on top and looking at the distant forest, now much clearer and brighter after the withered leaves fell. He felt he needed to go out as well.
Not for a leisurely autumn stroll but to go to the mulberry trees.
Despite the softening effect of saltpeter on fur, his obsession with making silk trousers had diminished significantly, but Han Cheng hadn’t forgotten about it because it was indeed a treasure.
As a Han Chinese, now in this era, he naturally wanted to bring out the silkworms if possible.
The bald trees, the yellowing fallen leaves, and the struggling grass refusing to die all vividly showcased autumn winds’ might.
Compared to its master, who used to wear animal skins and wield a stick while randomly beating things, Fu Jiang, with its owner now, seemed to possess much more poetic beauty. At least it could feel this loneliness.
In the past, it used to run around the tribe joyfully, but now, walking through this desolate yellow landscape, it appeared melancholic.
Han Cheng, preoccupied with thoughts of silkworms, didn’t notice Fu Jiang’s sudden change in behavior; he was too busy carrying his basket and swinging his stick forward.
Even Han Cheng, who is closest to Fu Jiang, didn’t notice anything unusual about it. Those following, their attention focused on the surrounding sounds, were even less likely to notice its melancholy.
Han Cheng had always thought his methods were ruthless enough, but compared to the autumn wind, they were indeed insignificant.
At least the wild chickens in the tribe, after Han Cheng’s handling, still had some feathers left to cover themselves. But the mulberry trees in front of them had been stripped bare by the autumn wind…
Looking up at the bald branches, Han Cheng searched inch by inch.
At the command of the Divine Child, the others also raised their heads, searching for something whose exact appearance they didn’t know.
Fu Jiang also stood under the tree, lifting its not-so-nimble eyes and, with its master, looked up at the sky fragmented by the bare branches.
A gust of wind blew, and Fu Jiang’s melancholic eyes suddenly brightened, seeming to come to life.
Tilting its head, it stood in the direction of the wind, its nostrils twitching.
After a while like this, it stepped forward in that direction.
After walking for a while, it looked back at its owner, still looking up at the sky with a sigh, and paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate about something. But eventually, it headed toward the direction of the wind, gradually disappearing into the distance, obscured by bushes and trees, completely out of sight…