I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 874 – Forging Meteorite Weapons (Three-in-One)
Looking at the more than thirty crude weapons made of meteorite, Han Cheng felt dizzy for a moment. Then, a scene from several years ago suddenly surfaced in his mind: the meteor shower he had witnessed back then.
He remembered that when he mentioned that making wishes on shooting stars was particularly effective, Bai Xue, that silly wife of his, had kept muttering about having “monkey children” with him during the meteor shower.
Some time later, she became pregnant with Little Pea, that little rascal.
He recalled that the meteor shower had streaked from south to north, while the tribe bringing these weapons had come from far to the north of his own tribe. Could it be…
Could these meteorites have fallen during that meteor shower?
Han Cheng thought this, then laughed and shook his head.
There’s no way something could be this coincidental.
He had seen a meteor shower, and some meteorites that hadn’t entirely burned fell near this cave.
Years later, the tribe that acquired a large amount of meteorite used it to make weapons, attacked his tribe, and was defeated. Those meteorites, which had once streaked across the sky over their tribe, were now returned to his tribe.
Thinking about it, it seemed impossible—far too magical to be real.
Shaking all these chaotic thoughts from his mind, Han Cheng looked at the meteorite and smiled brightly.
No matter how that other tribe obtained so many meteorites and turned them into weapons, one thing could not change: all these meteorites now belonged to his tribe.
With a supply of meteorite, his tribe could forge many high-quality weapons—knives, axes, and similar tools.
Once forged successfully, these could be passed down through generations.
Until the tribe discovered iron ore and mastered steel-making, these meteorite weapons would be the finest in the tribe.
After all, bronze had its material limitations.
Of course, for these weapons to be passed down, one critical condition had to be met: the tribe must not develop the habit of burying the dead with excessive rituals. Lavish burials would not only be useless but also waste resources and burden the living.
As for grave goods, some were buried and eventually merged with the soil, while grave robbers stole a significant portion.
Thinking of this, Han Cheng began taking the crudely bound weapons out of the room, stacking them in the yard, and setting them on fire.
He wasn’t using the fire to forge them; the bindings were just too tight to untie. Burning them was far simpler.
As the flames consumed the wooden handles and vines, only the black meteorite remained intact.
From afar, former members of the Black Stone Tribe watched in pain.
“Black Stone weapons!”
Those were the Black Stone weapons they had once taken pride in—used to help their tribe secure much food under their chief’s leadership.
Now, the Divine Child had burned them.
Luckily, they didn’t know the term “wasteful son,” or they would have blamed it on this supposedly extremely wise Divine Child.
But when their gaze landed on the bronze hoes glinting in the sunlight, such thoughts vanished.
These bronze tools were just as good, if not more convenient, than the Black Stone weapons they had cherished.
And that was only for farming. Weapons for hunting and combat were even more powerful.
A tribe with so many superior tools burning old weapons was no longer surprising.
Han Cheng then used a stick to dig thirty-six pieces of partially polished meteorite from the ashes. He picked up his precious daughter and instructed everyone not to touch the meteorites with their bare hands, lest they get burned and run to Second Senior Brother.
Second Senior Brother, for his part, looked exhausted, yawning constantly.
Han Cheng wasn’t surprised—after all, even someone with only one spouse could be fatigued; Second Senior Brother had three. Just thinking of that made Han Cheng sympathize with his back.
“Alright, let’s forge these meteorites properly into weapons and tools,” Han Cheng told Second Senior Brother.
He had wanted them to start forging immediately, but, seeing their exhaustion, postponed it.
People are the foundation; everything else is secondary. Rest when needed.
While thinking this, Han Cheng recalled the benefits of goji berries. Too bad there were none here; if available, every adult male could steep a few cups of hot goji berry tea daily to relieve fatigue.
“Divine Child, what about bronze…?”
The Second Senior Brother asked, puzzled by Han Cheng’s decision.
With copper and bronze abundant in the tribe, everyone favored bronze, believing it could defeat anything. Many things paled in comparison.
He had examined the captured Black Stone weapons and found them inferior to his tribe’s bronze tools, too crude.
Han Cheng smiled. When furnace temperatures are low and iron-smelting techniques are insufficient, iron tools are indeed inferior to easily cast bronze.
In the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, iron was called “evil metal.” Even the Qin, who conquered six states, used bronze to defeat those with iron weapons.
Han Cheng, knowing later history, knew steel would eventually prevail. By the Western Han, bronze civilization had been largely abandoned.
“These weapons are ineffective because they weren’t forged properly. Once shaped correctly, tools made of this meteorite will surpass bronze—stronger, sharper, and more durable.”
Han Cheng explained to Second Senior Brother.
It was natural that Second Senior Brother believed him; the tribe had seen bronze’s advantages firsthand. If the Divine Child said these meteorites could make superior tools, it must be true.
Excited, Second Senior Brother crouched, picked up a cooled meteorite, and studied it carefully.
If bronze tools were this effective, how much better could meteorite tools be? Forge them properly, and the tribe would gain even stronger tools, becoming more powerful.
Eager to begin, he asked: “Divine Child, how do we do it? Like with copper and tin, melting in the furnace?”
Han Cheng shook his head. With current tribal technology, they couldn’t melt ordinary iron, let alone meteorite.
In fact, the meteorite didn’t need melting. Flying through the atmosphere at high speed, most impurities burned off.
All that remained needed only to be heated in a furnace and hammered into shape—comparable to tempered steel.
“Don’t melt them. Just heat them and hammer them into the shape of the tools we want,” Han Cheng instructed.
The Second Senior Brother had experience, having forged iron beads into iron tools under Han Cheng’s guidance.
“I’ll start the furnace!”
Excited, he jumped up, but Han Cheng stopped him: “Start tomorrow. Rest today, or you’ll exhaust yourself.”
Second Senior Brother reluctantly complied.
After moving the meteorites inside, he inspected the long-unused forge.
The Divine Child forbade forging today, but not inspection. He could check for defects, call Hei Wa to help repair, prepare good charcoal, and ready the bellows. Then tomorrow morning, forging could begin effortlessly.
Han Cheng understood Second Senior Brother’s eagerness but smiled, letting it be—such initiative was good for the tribe.
Half a day passed quietly.
During this time, Han Cheng also asked the shaman, First Senior Brother, Bai Xue Mei, and others about events during his absence.
Apart from the Shu Pi Tribe’s raid, nothing significant occurred. Everything was stable.
Harvesting rapeseed, sowing millet, and soybeans went smoothly.
With extra adult slaves available, the tribe planted 70–80 more acres than expected.
Satisfied, Han Cheng praised them: “You did well while I was gone.”
After lunch, Han Cheng finally gave in to fatigue, lying down and sleeping soundly.
Little Pea, now less clingy, ran outside to play with other children, while the younger Little Xing rested on Han Cheng’s arm, napping peacefully, occasionally drooling.
“Potty… potty…”
His daughter woke Han Cheng. Groggy, he got her down and fetched a chamber pot. Holding her, he shook his head, feeling much more refreshed after the nap.
He noticed the yard was tranquil—no children’s laughter. Alone, he understood the solitude often described in later times, but here, with his tribe and his daughter, he felt no loneliness.
After a short while indoors, he stepped outside with Little Xing. Afternoon sunlight angled gently over the yard, mostly empty as people worked in the fields.
“Brother Cheng, you’re awake? Why not sleep more?”
Bai Xue came running from the silkworm room, smiling brightly, even more energetic than Han Cheng.
“I’m rested. How about Little Pea and the others?”
She explained that, seeing him asleep, she let the children play outside, probably catching grasshoppers.
Han Cheng felt warmth, touched her face, and together they entered the silkworm room.
The room contained many racks with baskets, each housing silkworms. Leaves rustled as the worms ate, with the fresh scent of mulberry filling the air.
Decades of selective breeding had produced larger silkworms and bigger cocoons. Yet the process of raising, spinning silk, and weaving remained long-term work.
“Come, let’s take a walk outside,” Han Cheng said after helping Bai Xue feed the silkworms.
He carried Little Xing while Bai Xue followed.
With the silkworm operation expanding and more people available, Bai Xue no longer needed to handle everything herself.
The first batch of crops—millet—was already knee-high. Even the latest planted crops reached the ankles. People worked in the fields, weeding and tending crops, creating a pleasing scene.
Han Cheng’s gaze fell on a pair of adult slaves. He realized that, in their original tribes, there were likely weaker adults and many minors.
Most tribes considered weaker adults burdensome, but in Green Sparrow Tribe, there was work suitable for them.
Thus, Han Cheng considered sending people to bring the remaining adults from their original tribe to Green Sparrow Tribe, boosting their population and possibly discovering additional meteorites.