I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 876 – The Kind and Wise Divine Child
“D-Divine Child… I-I’ll just walk myself… n-no riding the donkey… riding a donkey… my… my butt… it hurts…”
Initially, under the tribe’s “three leaders,” led by the Divine Child, Mao intended to grit his teeth and accept this overwhelming love.
But thinking back to the last time he rode a donkey, and recalling the soul-piercing discomfort, Mao still mustered the courage to refuse—and he explained why.
“My butt hurts?”
Hearing Mao’s reason, Han Cheng froze for a moment. How could riding a donkey hurt one’s butt?
“It doesn’t hurt—the butt’s on the tree!”
Han Cheng almost blurted this out to Mao but thought better of it. Considering that Shaman, Second Senior Brother, and Mao hadn’t seen the movie Let the Bullets Fly, they wouldn’t understand the joke, so he swallowed the words back.
“How could riding a donkey hurt? Isn’t a donkey’s back soft?”
Han Cheng asked, genuinely puzzled.
“When you ride it… it runs… and then…”
Mao scratched his head, trying to explain properly, but couldn’t find the right words.
His gaze fell on a nearby open field where some donkeys were grazing. His eyes lit up with understanding.
“You’ll know if you ride one.”
Mao pointed at the donkeys and said this to Han Cheng.
Well, if that’s how it is, then he’d ride.
Since the tribe had acquired these donkeys, Han Cheng had never actually ridden them. Mao’s words piqued his curiosity. He wanted to see what secrets these unassuming but sturdy animals held.
After thinking it over, he nodded in agreement.
Seeing Han Cheng agree, Mao kindly led a donkey over.
Han Cheng looked around, noting that most of the surrounding area was farmland, except for the open space where the donkeys were—perfect for riding. He followed Mao.
Shaman and Second Senior Brother also walked over, eager to watch the Divine Child ride.
Mao thoughtfully selected the most robust-looking donkey among the group and brought it for Han Cheng to mount.
Riding a bare-backed donkey is not easy; you often need a stone or a ridge to step on before getting on.
Mao held the donkey steady, and Han Cheng stepped onto the ridge, climbing onto the donkey’s back.
The donkey was tricky to ride. Just the slippery bare back and the lack of support for his feet made it difficult for a first-timer.
Once on the donkey, Han Cheng’s legs gripped tightly, and his body instinctively leaned forward to hold its neck.
Fortunately, these donkeys had been tamed back in the Half-Farming Tribe. At Green Sparrow Tribe, they were accustomed to human interaction. Besides carrying loads, they had learned to pull plows, carts, and wagons. And since Mao held the donkey steady, Han Cheng’s movements didn’t startle it.
After sitting for a moment and getting used to the feeling, Han Cheng had Mao lead the donkey a few steps.
He clutched its neck, keeping himself from falling, while also checking his seat. Sitting on the donkey’s back felt warm—no pain yet.
After a while, Mao sped up, moving from a walk to a trot.
Immediately, Han Cheng understood why riding a donkey could hurt one’s butt—not because the back was stiff, but because as the donkey bounced along, the rider would be lifted and slammed back down repeatedly, delivering intimate impacts to the seat.
A short ride was tolerable, but over time, it became unbearable.
Riding a donkey also required effort—gripping with the legs to avoid falling—so there was no chance to relax.
After a while, Han Cheng felt exhausted. Riding consumed more energy than walking, especially as a first-timer.
If he mastered it, it would be easier.
The main issue was the lack of two accessories: a saddle and stirrups.
With them, riding would be far less tiring. Simply having somewhere to rest the feet greatly increased comfort and stability.
It was like walking on a high scaffold—having something to hold onto provides immense security.
Previously, Han Cheng hadn’t made saddles or stirrups because the tribe’s donkeys were primarily for plowing and hauling, rarely ridden.
Now that he had experienced riding a bare-backed donkey, Han Cheng understood their importance. He immediately resolved to make them for the tribe’s donkeys, regretting not having done so sooner.
“Divine Child… does it hurt your butt?”
Seeing Han Cheng climb down using the ridge, his legs trembling, Mao asked.
He was secretly glad he wouldn’t have to ride.
“It doesn’t hurt exactly, just exhausting. Once we make two things and put them on the donkey’s back, riding will be much more comfortable. But for now, you can ride like this without problems.”
Han Cheng wiggled his trembling legs and smiled at Mao, who looked hopeful yet resigned.
Mao’s face soured—he could not escape riding—but a flicker of excitement arose.
Everyone in the tribe knew the Divine Child’s abilities. If he said two devices could make riding easy, it would be true.
Perhaps on the next expedition north, he could ride a donkey without suffering.
Shaman and Second Senior Brother were also curious about these devices and wanted to see what they looked like.
The group then returned to the tribe. True leaders often acted on whims.
Before reaching the inner courtyard, the clanging of hammers striking metal could be heard.
“Divine Child! The meteorite hammer is done!”
As they entered, Second Senior Brother, hammering, shouted excitedly.
“Done?!”
Han Cheng quickened his pace toward the forge. Shaman, Second Senior Brother, and Mao followed, eager to see the effects of a hammer forged from precious meteorite.
Four dented bronze hammers lay by the forge—failed attempts from earlier.
Now, Second Senior Brother held a freshly forged meteorite hammer.
It was a hexagonal prism with a hole in the center fitted with a wooden handle.
It looked a bit irregular—limited craftsmanship and previous tools—but sufficient for forging.
They planned to make a smaller meteorite hammer, too, necessary for tasks the large hammer couldn’t handle.
Han Cheng took the hammer, feeling its weight. It was smaller than a bronze hammer but heavier.
“How is it? Easy to use?”
“It’s great—very easy to use!” Second Senior Brother said excitedly.
Another meteorite was heating in the furnace, and he resumed hammering it, producing a steady clanging.
“See? Using a meteorite hammer not only speeds up work, but leaves a perfectly flat surface…”
After repeated strikes, Second Senior Brother pointed to a cooled iron block. Compared to using a bronze hammer, it was much flatter and required fewer repeated hits.
“Excellent! Very well done. Next, make a smaller hammer for finer work. Make tools fast and well.”
Han Cheng praised and offered suggestions, which Second Senior Brother eagerly accepted.
“Don’t overexert yourselves—take breaks. There’s plenty of meteorite, and forging all the tools will take time.”
Both nodded, claiming they weren’t tired, and worked even harder after Han Cheng left, hammering with vigor.
Back in the office, Han Cheng spread out paper and began sketching a saddle from memory.
Shaman and the others watched briefly before quietly leaving to prepare for the expedition north.
Mao suggested preparing leg bindings—so useful. On long trips, calves often swell or get scratched by thorns. With these bindings, all injuries were avoided, aside from initial discomfort.
The tribe would embark on a long journey to bring the remaining members of previously hostile tribes back to the Green Sparrow Tribe as slaves, and to search for more black, heavy meteorite rocks—the same material used for crafting superior tools.
This news delighted the tribe, both citizens and former slaves.
The arrival of new slaves meant more could gain citizenship, enjoying better living conditions, food, housing, and opportunities to learn advanced skills like pottery, woodworking, or weapon-making.
These improvements highlighted the distinction between slaves and citizens, motivating slaves to strive for citizenship.
The new arrivals had previously endured harsh oppression, especially from the Black Stone Tribe. Living in the Green Sparrow Tribe revealed that not all powerful tribes were cruel.
They realized Green Sparrow Tribe was firm yet fair, willing to coexist peacefully unless provoked.
Hearing this, the new slaves’ admiration for the wise Divine Child grew—they felt he was not only wise, but also kind.