I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 873 – No Wonder Emperors Rarely Lived Long (Three-in-One)
Upon hearing Shaman’s question and feeling the gaze of those who had stayed in the tribe, everyone who had accompanied Han Cheng on this long expedition and returned safely instinctively straightened their chests.
Their faces carried a smile that Han Cheng, their Divine Child, called a “restrained” or modest smile.
“We’ve found a habitable region in the South! Even if the winters grow colder and longer, we no longer have to worry!”
Han Cheng looked at the eagerly expectant faces before him and announced the news that had been weighing on everyone’s minds.
The announcement instantly eased the tension and anticipation of those who had been anxiously waiting.
Shaman, missing more than half his teeth, silently grinned, his eyes squinting into mere slits from sagging skin and drooping eyelids.
The eldest senior brother’s laughter was even louder, mouth wide open as he boisterously guffawed.
The scene immediately became one of celebration; the people cheered and rejoiced at this fantastic news.
Under the guidance of their Divine Child, they had once again discovered a method to withstand the cold.
As their Divine Child had said, even as the weather grew colder, they no longer needed to fear it.
Watching the jubilant tribe members, Han Cheng’s face was also full of smiles—he thoroughly enjoyed this feeling.
Those who had traveled with Han Cheng also smiled, but their “restrained” expressions were even more pronounced.
They all knew there was more good news that the Divine Child had yet to announce.
They eagerly anticipated the reaction of the tribe members who had stayed behind when they heard the next piece of news.
“Not only did we find the South, but we also discovered two crops that can be cultivated on a large scale. One is called rice, which produces yields comparable to the millet we currently grow, and it tastes excellent. The other is called sweet sorghum; when mature, it is very sweet, and its juice can be boiled into sugar. The resulting sugar blocks are even sweeter than fruit candies!”
Once the excitement of having found the South had settled slightly, Han Cheng raised his voice and combined these two pieces of good news, announcing them to the tribe amidst the expectant, restrained smiles of the thirty-some people who had returned with him.
“What?!”
“What did the Divine Child say?!”
Upon hearing this, the previously jubilant crowd fell silent. Eyes wide with disbelief, everyone doubted whether they had heard correctly.
This reaction secretly delighted those who had returned with Han Cheng.
“You were amazed before; now, how do you feel? Aren’t you amazed at what we’ve accomplished?”
“Di-Divine Child… you… you… You said… what?”
After a brief pause, someone spoke.
Shaman’s lips trembled. Usually quick-witted, he now struggled to speak coherently. His gaze at Han Cheng was full of excitement, anticipation, and disbelief.
“We discovered two crops in the South. One is called rice, because it grows in water; it can also be called paddy rice. The yield… the other is called sweet sorghum…”
Han Cheng stepped forward to support the flustered Shaman, preventing him from falling from overexcitement, and raised his voice to announce the news again.
“Boom~!”
Once Han Cheng confirmed, the crowd erupted.
For them, the news was explosive and astonishing, far more than when they had learned that Han Cheng had found the South.
The tribe had expected them to locate a habitable region, but no one was prepared for the discovery of new crops.
Initially, the people had considered finding a livable South to survive the harsh winters as remarkable enough.
Yet the Divine Child not only found the South but also discovered two crops suitable for large-scale cultivation!
The rice alone, comparable to their millet, was exciting. And the sweet sorghum, capable of producing sugar sweeter than candy, was even more so.
These discoveries thrilled them beyond measure.
Everyone knew how significant millet was to the tribe, and now their Divine Child had found a crop comparable to it. How could they not be elated, overjoyed to the point of losing direction?
Watching the tribe’s excitement, those who had returned with Han Cheng could no longer maintain restraint. They laughed widely, some even embracing nearby companions in joy.
“Good! Good! Good…”
Shaman, overjoyed to the point of losing his vision, became like a broken record, repeating nothing but “good.”
The Grass Tribe chief watched this scene, initially puzzled.
After learning from a nearby jubilant old slave of the Green Sparrow Tribe what had happened, she could no longer remain calm.
She knew winters had grown longer and harsher, evidenced by the purplish marks left from frostbite still visible on her face.
She and many others had planned to join the Black Stone Tribe’s leader in attacking the Green Sparrow Tribe in spring, partially due to these harsh winters and the threat of starvation.
Yet this plan had failed, with over half their people dying.
The survivors had entered the tribe they had coveted, but reality was far from what they expected.
Now, learning that the Divine Child and his people had found a solution to this deadly threat left the Grass Tribe chief astonished.
Moreover, the two crops they had found were remarkable.
She had seen Green Sparrow Tribe children eat fruit candies, but never tasted them herself. From the children’s reactions, she inferred they must be delicious.
Now the Divine Child claimed to have found something even sweeter than fruit candy.
She had eaten millet before, whether as porridge with wild vegetables and salt, plain millet porridge with pickled radish, or dry millet rice—it was delicious.
For her, these were rare treats.
And now, the Divine Child claimed to have found a food comparable to millet. How could she describe her feelings?
No wonder the people jumped and cheered upon hearing it was the Divine Child speaking.
Understanding the situation, the Grass Tribe chief could not resist joining in the celebration.
Amidst her excitement, she also wondered: why did so many good things always converge on this tribe?
They were already strong and wealthy, yet blessings kept arriving. Was it simply because the tribe had a Divine Child?
In that moment, the Grass Tribe chief, suspicious and somewhat envious, pondered life’s mysteries…
Today was undoubtedly a day of immense joy for the Green Sparrow Tribe.
The Divine Child and his group, missing for three months, had returned unscathed and brought such excellent news. The tribe’s celebration surpassed even the yearly New Year festivities.
To celebrate, the tribe gathered plenty of delicious food for a feast.
Even the livestock and poultry of the Green Sparrow Tribe joined in the revelry—rabbits struck behind the ears by the Shaman, sheep knocked between their horns by others, and chickens slaughtered by the eldest senior brother—all participated.
After a while, the animals steamed and smelled delicious, blending with the joyous humans in celebration.
“Divine Child, I’ll drink a little more.”
By firelight, Shaman’s wrinkled face flushed with joy as he spoke, looking like a child.
Han Cheng helplessly poured him a small half-bowl of the sour-tasting brew, warning him not to drink more afterward.
Shaman happily nodded, sipping carefully, unable to hide his joy.
Though he drank barely more than one bowl, Shaman was already tipsy from happiness.
Everyone else also reveled in joy, transforming excitement into appetite, eagerly eating the food.
Tonight’s feast was hurried, lacking the variety and refinement of the New Year meal, yet everyone savored it immensely, some even more than a proper New Year dinner.
After eating, at the tribe’s request, Han Cheng recounted the journey, focusing on the highlights and omitting the hardships.
Announcing only good news was a fine tradition.
Although he did not mention difficulties, the tribe could see the suffering in their sun-darkened faces, thinner bodies, and worn bindings—evidence of the trials they had endured.
Watching the Divine Child speak only of enjoyable things, with the second and junior brothers occasionally adding a few remarks, left the tribe members moved, eyes moist with emotion.
This was their Divine Child; this was their tribe.
After speaking, Han Cheng retrieved eighty rare rice grains with husks from his bag and showed them to the tribe.
He cracked two grains open to reveal the rice’s actual appearance.
Shaman held a grain of rice and its shiny kernel to the firelight, his cloudy eyes now seeming to sparkle.
Nearby, Yuan watched this scene, noting Shaman’s rare, heartfelt focus. She did not feel jealousy, only joy.
Having lived in the Green Sparrow Tribe for some time, Yuan had fully integrated into the tribe, sharing its hopes and desires for prosperity.
Others holding the grains carefully examined them, eyes alight with wonder.
These grains represented more than food—they symbolized wealth and growth.
The hastily held celebration continued late into the night, filled with laughter.
Although each person drank barely more than a bowl, some were drunk, especially Shaman, who smiled foolishly.
After a while, Han Cheng instructed everyone to disperse, set up guards, and then take a hot bath.
Immersed in hot water, Han Cheng felt an incredible sense of relief; every cell rejoiced.
He had never enjoyed such a thorough bath since departing south from the tribe.
He initially thought soaking was sufficient, but when Bai Xue entered, massaging his back and shoulders, he realized how shallow his previous thoughts had been.
Half-reclining, Han Cheng felt tempted to sleep, yet could not, as Bai Xue remained alert and energetic.
They could not bathe together for too long without risking impropriety.
Han Cheng had hoped to bond with his children afterward, but the bath took longer than expected. When he returned, his children had already fallen asleep.
Smiling at Bai Xue Mei, Han Cheng felt the satisfaction of parenthood.
He checked on the sleeping children, his heart full of contentment.
After extinguishing the lights, sleep did not come easily. Sounds from Shaman and Yuan’s room disturbed him.
Han Cheng quietly listened with Bai Xue, smirking.
Shaman was still vigorous! At this rate, he could live another ten or twenty years with ease.
Yet the sounds from the walls could be exhausting. Han Cheng knew this from experience.
“Papa… Papa…”
“Dada”
Children’s boundless energy often frustrated their desire to sleep.
Despite fatigue from travel and overnight labor, Han Cheng had intended to sleep all day, but his children shattered this plan.
Groggy and reluctant to rise, Han Cheng finally got up, dressed the children, and carried them outside.
Except for slight dizziness, drowsiness, and weak legs, all was well.
At the rabbit pen, Han Cheng saw Shaman, also fatigued, feeding the rabbits.
He set the children down to help Shaman, while the little ones tossed grass to the rabbits.
They exchanged glances, saying little.
After a while, they noticed Bai Xue, Yuan, and other women returning with freshly picked mulberry leaves, lively and cheerful.
Han Cheng sighed. No wonder ancient emperors rarely lived long; constant activity, stress, and responsibility were too much even for the strongest.
Later that morning, Han Cheng was astonished by the sight before him.
He picked up a crudely made, heavy weapon, running his hand along the black meteorite at its end—it was icy to the touch.
Beside it lay thirty more weapons of the same meteorite. Han Cheng inhaled sharply, unsure how to describe his emotions.
Meteorite! The legendary material for forging peerless divine weapons—and here were so many!
Had meteorites suddenly become mass-producible?
Had a fragment of a fallen star landed nearby?
Han Cheng was momentarily stunned.