I am a Primitive Man-Chapter 822: The Black Stone Tribe Chief Almost Turned into Teppanyaki
Chapter 822 – The Black Stone Tribe Chief Almost Turned into Teppanyaki
Those shocked by the massive amount of grain weren’t just the old primitive man or the chief of the Neighboring Wind Tribe— even the members of the two tribes who had just arrived were stunned, each unsure what to say.
Such an amount of grain was beyond anything they had ever imagined!
After the initial shock, the old primitive man immediately became excited. One by one, they worked enthusiastically with the elders of the Green Sparrow Tribe to move the grain, their energy seemingly boundless.
Although the newcomers had already been amazed by the abundance of pigs, sheep, deer, and rabbits in the Green Sparrow Tribe, some still harbored faint worries.
Even though the Green Sparrow Tribe appeared extremely wealthy, they had many mouths to feed—and now there were more people to feed…
This naturally caused concern.
Now, the sheer volume of grain has completely wiped away lingering worry.
Seeing the reactions of the old primitive man, Han Cheng smiled.
He had included them in today’s work of moving grain partly to help the new arrivals learn skills, do more work, and adapt quickly to the tribe’s lifestyle, accelerating their integration.
Another reason was to let the old primitive man witness the actual strength of the Green Sparrow Tribe by handling the grain firsthand.
In this era, food was an undeniable measure of a tribe’s power.
After Han Cheng’s demonstration, both the old primitive man and the chief of the Neighboring Wind Tribe would feel reassured about joining the tribe.
Food in hand meant peace of mind—a timeless truth.
Though the old primitive man lacked a precise understanding of logistics, they could feel it intuitively.
In fact, this kind of activity was even more effective than many collective labor activities at helping them integrate into the tribe.
As everyone worked enthusiastically, the bottom layer of the granary pits was filled with grain.
A guide stopped the laborers briefly, instructing them to use long-handled wooden shovels to push the grain from the edges toward the center, leaving a roughly 30-centimeter gap along the sides.
Then a new wicker frame was placed atop the previous one.
The grain pushed to the center was shoveled back to press down the new frame. This completed one layer.
After a brief pause, grain moving resumed, repeating the process layer by layer.
Five layers of frames were stacked until nearly flush with the granary pit’s opening.
Ash, dry stalks, and other debris were filled between the frames and the earthen walls before sealing the pit.
The top layer was covered with thick dry stalks, then a ceramic slab, followed by a wooden board larger than the pit opening.
A thick layer of dry soil was tamped down firmly using copper shovels. Wet soil was never used.
Once this thick layer of dry soil covered the top, the underground granary was fully sealed.
Grain stored this way was safe from mice and fire, much more secure than above-ground granaries.
It also required minimal maintenance, staying edible for three to five years without drying.
This grain formed the Green Sparrow Tribe’s reserve for emergencies.
Han Cheng intended to leave it untouched unless necessary.
Next spring, during construction of houses in the inner courtyard, he planned to dig out some granaries to fill, ideally storing enough grain to feed the tribe for three years or more.
This was how true peace of mind could be achieved.
When Han Cheng revealed this ambitious plan, cheers erupted.
Imagining mountains of food, enough to last years, made Shaman’s heart soar.
The eldest senior brother laughed widely at the sealed granaries, tongue trembling with excitement.
The scene inspired both longing and reassurance.
The Green Sparrow Tribe elders were overjoyed, and the old primitive man was once again amazed.
They were already stunned by the sheer quantity of food—and now the Divine Child intended to store even more, enough for the tribe to eat for a long, long time.
This realization helped the old primitive man and the Neighboring Wind Tribe chief understand why the Green Sparrow Tribe was so prosperous, while their own tribes struggled.
Had their previous tribes stored surplus after each harvest rather than ceasing labor, perhaps fewer would have starved or frozen to death during the migration north.
The Neighboring Wind Tribe chief felt regretful—but it was too late. The only course now was to work hard under the Divine Child’s leadership alongside Green Sparrow elders to gather more food for the tribe.
Imagining endless mountains of food, the chief shivered with excitement.
With more people in the tribe, tasks could be completed more quickly.
While some transferred grain from granaries to pits, others delivered bricks or carried soil.
Once the first granary was cleared, boiling water was used to prepare mortar, and Hei Wa and other skilled tribe members built heated sleeping platforms (kang) in the vacated houses.
The kang had the exact specifications as existing ones: front and back walls contained fire channels, with a passageway in the middle, allowing many people to sleep side by side.
The freshly built kangs were immediately fired to test their usability, prevent the mortar from freezing, and accelerate drying for habitation.
With experienced hands and many workers, three kangs were ready by nightfall; the remaining three would be completed the next day.
Though only three were ready, sleeping that night was still comfortable and spacious.
Night fell. The Green Sparrow Tribe settled down after a busy day. The Neighboring Wind Tribe chief, full from a meal of meat soup over millet, lay on the warm kang, smiling.
This kang truly was as comfortable as his tribe had said.
He gently caressed the warm surface, his movements unusually tender.
Everything experienced since arriving at the Green Sparrow Tribe flashed through his mind.
While the food was astonishing, the most significant impression was the labor the Divine Child and ordinary tribe members undertook to provide a comfortable sleeping place.
The Divine Child constantly devised ways to accommodate them, and the tribe’s people cheerfully moved bricks, carried soil, prepared mortar, and built kangs without complaint—even in such cold weather.
How could the Neighboring Wind Tribe chief not be moved?
His own tribe had spoken the truth: Green Sparrow Tribe members were genuinely kind, and he had not come to the wrong place.
At that moment, the chief of the Wind Tribe appeared in his thoughts.
Foolish! Completely foolish!
Deserved it! Truly deserved it!
The Neighboring Wind Tribe chief thought silently, realizing how fortunate he was to join such a tribe, and that the Wind Tribe chief had been unwilling and foolish to try to challenge the Divine Child.
He even spat twice toward the image in his mind.
Later, he recalled how the Wind Tribe chief, on the return journey, had hit a donkey with a stick while riding a sled, and the donkey had kicked him in the head.
Suddenly, it became clear why the Wind Tribe chief behaved so foolishly.
From then on, he resolved to stay far from donkeys, never sitting behind one and hitting it—otherwise a kick to the head could be disastrous.
The tale of the Wind Tribe chief being kicked by a donkey quickly spread through the Green Sparrow Tribe.
People began jokingly asking, “Have you been kicked in the head by a donkey like the Wind Tribe chief?”
Eventually, it was shortened to the now-popular phrase: “Kicked in the head by a donkey.”
Thus, the Green Sparrow Tribe had invented another term, perfectly expressing a person’s foolishness.
Even Han, the Divine Child, who understood the story, couldn’t help but silently pity the unfortunate Wind Tribe chief.
Meanwhile, far north in the Black Stone Tribe, the chief had not slept either.
Inside a cave, someone screamed in pain, then struck another person with fists and feet. Eventually, the victim, bruised all over, slowly got up, leaning against the cold stone wall.
The Black Stone Tribe chief watched with hatred, but also relief and fear at the fallen stone piles.
After nearly a year in the Black Stone Tribe, Shu Pi had gradually adapted, the initial punishments lessening.
With bows and fish traps introduced to the tribe, captured food increased, and tribute from neighboring tribes rose. Life in the Black Stone Tribe became more bearable, though still not as comfortable as when Shu Pi led his own people.
Tonight’s beating had a cause: the collapsed stone piles.
Since snowfall began, winter had been harsher than last year, and Shu Pi, without thick furs and of low status, suffered the extreme cold.
Some died instantly; some struggled and found solutions, though some of those perished more miserably.
Survival instincts pushed Shu Pi to devise a solution.
He remembered the Green Sparrow Tribe, where he had lived only three or four months, from early summer to early autumn. Though short, the experience left a lasting impact.
He recalled the heated kangs, though only vaguely.
Struggling to survive, he tried to reconstruct a kang from stone and mud in his cave, repeatedly building and dismantling it.
The Black Stone Tribe chief watched intently. He had long recognized that Shu Pi’s tribe was exceptional, especially after learning to make bows and fish traps.
Upon learning that Shu Pi aimed to create something to sleep warmly in winter, the chief became excited.
He even sent others to help collect stones for the construction.
The kang was challenging because Shu Pi relied only on vague memory.
Eventually, he constructed a hollow rectangular stone-mud structure, topped with flat stones, gaps filled with mud.
Once completed, he lit a fire underneath. Gradually, the stones became warm.
The Black Stone Tribe chief, overjoyed, immediately lay down to sleep.
Unlike fears of being cooked alive like food, he trusted Shu Pi and the kang’s construction.
The stones retained warmth; gaps were sealed with mud, and only the fire’s fuel port emitted light.
Previous experiences with Shu Pi’s bows and traps gave him confidence.
The chief lay on the stone kang, covered with furs, enveloped in warmth.
Compared to sleeping near a fire, fluctuating between hot and cold, this was bliss.
The Black Stone Tribe chief, experiencing such warmth for the first time, soon fell into a deep, sound sleep.
Shu Pi watched enviously, occasionally adding firewood to maintain the small flame.
Overall, this modified stone kang was a success.
Had he used materials other than stone, the effect might have been even better…
Chapter 822: The Black Stone Tribe Chief Almost Turned into Teppanyaki
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