I am a Primitive Man
Chapter 911: You Are Already Surrounded!
Standing in front of the slave huts that they had built with their own hands, Han Cheng swore loudly, squinted his eyes hard, rubbed them with the back of his hand a couple of times, and then opened them again to look.
The rice was still there—it hadn’t disappeared with his movements.
This wasn’t an illusion; it was real.
Even though he now knew it was real, Han Cheng still felt dizzy, as if in a dream.
Rice plants running on their own from the marshes to this place, lying down for drying—this was too extraordinary.
Even someone from the future like him, who had seen the wider world, had only heard stories of people obediently lying in Rolls-Royces. He had never heard of rice grains jumping off the stalks and lying down on the threshing floor to dry themselves.
Could it be that the rice had somehow gained consciousness?
Or perhaps the rituals performed by the shaman had given him some incredible ability that could invisibly influence them?
If that were true, it would be incredible—he’d essentially become a human-powered combine harvester!
Han Cheng wasn’t the only one astonished. Everyone from the Green Sparrow Tribe who had come with him was completely flabbergasted. This situation was entirely unexpected.
Influenced by the Divine Child, they had been worried all along that birds might eat the ripened rice. They were wondering how they would harvest rice they had never grown before, thinking it might be similar to harvesting soybeans or grains.
But unexpectedly, when they arrived, the rice had already been harvested and spread out to dry!
It was simply miraculous!
Fortunately, having witnessed many miraculous things with the Divine Child over the years, they had developed strong mental resilience. Otherwise, encountering this previously might have led to grand acts of worship.
Just like how the people from the Nose-Ring and Earring tribes behaved when facing their tribe.
Han Cheng took a few steps forward and squatted in front of the spread-out rice, examining it carefully.
After a moment, he pinched a few grains and used his fingernail to remove the husk, revealing the crystal-clear rice inside.
So many good people exist in the world. He had arrived late, yet someone had already helped his tribe by harvesting and drying the rice.
Han Cheng felt deeply moved and, in his mind, awarded an imaginary “good person card” to the unknown benefactor.
Having grown up under the Red Flag and knowing the material nature of the world, his rational mind quickly returned after a moment of initial astonishment.
It wasn’t hard to see that people had harvested and spread the rice here—finger marks and faint footprints on the rice made that clear.
Hence, Han Cheng didn’t hesitate to award the “good person card” to this stranger.
Drawing his gaze from the rice, Han Cheng surveyed the surroundings and quickly noticed more signs of habitation.
A pile of firewood, trodden paths around the slave huts, and some relatively fresh fruit peels and cores all indicated that someone had visited the huts they had built and had stayed here.
“Let’s go inside and take a look.”
Han Cheng focused on the tightly shut door and windows of the slave hut, stood up, and told his still-surprised second senior brother and the others.
At Han Cheng’s prompt, everyone snapped to attention. The second senior brother tried to rush to the hut to open the door, but Han Cheng stopped him.
“Don’t rush. Take your weapons and get ready for defense before opening the door.”
Han Cheng spoke firmly.
All signs indicated that the slave hut they had built was now occupied, and the inhabitants were probably still inside.
There could very well be people inside, and if they opened the door unprepared, someone from the tribe could get hurt—something Han Cheng wanted to avoid.
Hearing this, the second senior brother stopped in his tracks.
The group then took their usual formation, weapons ready, and half-surrounded the hut.
Han Cheng, as the Divine Child, remained well-protected, shielded by four bronze-tipped vine shields.
“Come out! You are surrounded!”
“Come out! You are surrounded!”
Once ready, Han Cheng, who had watched plenty of police-and-thief films, shouted loudly in standard Mandarin at the closed door.
The people inside surely didn’t understand him—but that didn’t matter. The purpose was just to alert anyone hiding inside that there were intruders.
After shouting three or four times without a response, Han Cheng sent someone to cautiously open the door.
A shield-bearer went first, stopping a short distance from the door, while a spear-bearer untangled vines twisted around the door ring and pushed it open with the spear.
Seeing no one inside, Han Cheng sent ten or so new slaves from the tribe with copper shovels and hoes to enter and inspect.
Slaves were used for the hard and dangerous work.
Following Han Cheng’s instructions, they carefully entered the house with their tools.
Inside the soot-blackened room, Han Cheng squatted in front of two ash piles surrounded by stones and stirred them with a wooden stick.
Some embers were still glowing—clearly, the occupants had not left long ago.
But that wasn’t the most interesting part. Han Cheng’s attention turned to two clay pots scorched black on the outside.
These were found in a room further inside.
The pots were large—bigger than those usually used by the Green Sparrow Tribe for water—but lacked the “ears” near the rim.
Interesting.
Since arriving in this world, Han Cheng had only seen one semi-agricultural tribe capable of firing pottery.
But their pottery was primitive and rough—not as exquisite or large as these two pots.
Granted, “exquisite” was relative—compared to the Green Sparrow Tribe’s pottery, these would still be inferior.
Still, it was impressive.
Not stopping there, Han Cheng picked up a wooden container shaped like the number “8”—a gourd.
A gourd was a naturally excellent container—lightweight, durable, and versatile: hollowed out for water, wine, seeds, or cut in half to make scoops.
It was especially suitable for carrying water while traveling.
This particular gourd was one of the few intact ones, and it felt heavy, as if it contained something.
He removed the stopper, tilted it, and white contents flowed out onto the ground.
The more he looked, the more familiar it seemed.
Finally, he tasted some.
It was salty—but not like the pure salt from his tribe. This had a bitter, gritty quality due to sand mixed in.
Han Cheng rinsed his mouth with water brought by the second senior brother, then continued surveying the room.
This was fascinating—the tribe not only collected rice but also knew how to process and eat it.
They also possessed clay pots, gourds, and soil containing salt.
From the number of gourds used as bowls, it was clear that this group numbered at least twenty to thirty people.
This southern expedition had been full of surprises: subduing the Nose-Ring, Earring, and One-Eyed tribes, and now discovering someone had already lived in the newly built slave huts, thoughtfully harvesting the rice for them.
Looking at the stored rice inside and the drying rice outside, Han Cheng was thrilled.
The harvest here was even larger than previously discovered.
After a while, he instructed most of the tribe to exit the house, leaving only twenty inside.
After securing the door, binding the wooden ring with vines, Han Cheng left, carefully scanning the surroundings.
Seeing no one, he began organizing the others: driving the livestock elsewhere to hide, while the rest set up an ambush around the slave compound.
Soon, everyone disappeared into the dense grass.
Crouching in the grass, wearing a woven grass hat, Han Cheng surveyed the broken-up world through the weeds.
When he had built the Dragon Gate and Tongfu Inns on the Bronze Highway, he had imagined other primitive people moving into his tribe’s empty houses.
It never happened—until now, in the half-year-old slave huts of Jingguan City.
These strangers had moved into his tribe’s slave huts; naturally, Han Cheng saw no reason to hold back.
But this didn’t mean he intended to forcibly turn them all into slaves.
The main purpose of his setup was to encircle and control these outsiders, then reason with them calmly.
This method ensured that strangers would listen attentively rather than fleeing the moment they saw the tribe.
Frankly, what Han Cheng wanted most was to find out where they had obtained their salty soil.
As for forcibly converting them into slaves? That hadn’t been a serious consideration.
After all, this year, the tribe had gained hundreds from the Black Stone Tribe alliance, plus over a hundred from the Nose-Ring and Earring tribes. The sudden population increase had already pushed their food supply to the limit.
Further intake without increasing farmland and food would be disastrous.
They needed at least a year to assimilate the new arrivals, have them contribute to agriculture, expand farmland, and increase food output before accepting more people.
Otherwise, pursuing rapid population growth without sufficient food reserves would inevitably lead to problems.
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