I am a Primitive Man-Chapter 828: Tongfu Inn and Longmen Inn

I am a Primitive Man-Chapter 828: Tongfu Inn and Longmen Inn

Chapter 828: Tongfu Inn and Longmen Inn
“Over there, far from our tribe, there’s a settlement. That settlement has many magical things.
There’s something called salt, which looks like tiny snowflakes. Sprinkle it on food, and it becomes incredibly delicious!”
Shu Pi spoke to the leader of the Black Stone Tribe with a hint of admiration in his voice.
The Black Stone Tribe leader, hearing this, became extremely excited. He reached out with his large hands and slapped Shu Pi on the head twice.
Shu Pi, whose head recoiled with each blow, saw the leader’s excitement and felt equally thrilled. He continued speaking, “They also have something called pottery, which can be used to cook hot soups. In winter, drinking the soup warms your whole body—it’s wonderfully comforting!”
“Smack!”
The leader’s face lit up even more with excitement, and he slapped Shu Pi’s head twice more.
Shu Pi’s head shrank again, but he became even more exhilarated. “They have so much food you don’t even need to hunt, and you can’t finish it all!”
“Smack!”
The increasingly excited Black Stone Tribe leader slapped again, this time with more force.
Shu Pi, shrinking his head twice more, continued eagerly: “They have even warmer caves, comfortable heated beds, and plenty of deer…”
The Black Stone Tribe leader raised his hand: “Smack!”
Shu Pi’s head shrank twice: “They have…”
…
“Smack!”
Shrinking twice…
“Leader, let’s take our Black Stone weapons and attack them! After we beat them, everything there will be ours!”
After enduring so many slaps and with his head spinning, Shu Pi finally spoke about the ultimate goal. He looked at the Black Stone Tribe leader with anticipation, expecting approval.
Judging by the leader’s growing excitement and increasing force in the slaps, Shu Pi was sure that once he voiced his final words, the leader would agree.
“Smack!”
The Black Stone Tribe leader slapped Shu Pi again, harder than before.
This only reinforced Shu Pi’s certainty that the plan would succeed.
“No!”
However, the leader’s following blunt words completely shocked Shu Pi, leaving him dumbfounded.
What?!
No?!
Then why were you so excited?
Why did you strike me on the head?
Almost all the hair on my head is gone, I’m nearly bald, and you still say no?!
Shu Pi stared at the Black Stone Tribe leader in disbelief. If he weren’t powerless, he would have pinned the leader down and pried open his skull to see what was inside.
“Smack!”
The leader slapped him again. Shu Pi, already partly bald on top, shrank his neck inward, which sobered him somewhat.
“No!”
The leader repeated it, the word striking Shu Pi’s ears like shattered glass.
The Black Stone Tribe leader had no intention of attacking the distant, seemingly wondrous settlement Shu Pi described.
One reason was distance; the other was that the leader saw no need.
The tribe’s current way of life already satisfied him.
They had caves for shelter and protection from the elements.
They had abundant food, especially now that the tribe and its subordinate groups had bows and fish traps, making their supplies even more plentiful.
With food from subordinate tribes, there was more than enough to last through winter.
For warmth in winter, a fire, enough food, and sufficient furs were all they needed—something they had managed successfully for years.
Especially after almost being cooked by Shu Pi’s experimental heating method last winter, the leader had developed a strong distaste for other heating methods.
So when Shu Pi brought up the topic again, the leader naturally had to reject it.
Since the tribe already had everything, why leave to attack an unknown settlement? It would only create unnecessary trouble.
While interested in salt and pottery, the leader was not willing to abandon all they had for these distant novelties.
Understanding the leader’s thoughts, Shu Pi, with a pounding head and a dull ache, had no words.
Indeed, everything was here; why leave to fight the Green Sparrow Tribe?
He had thought through so much, yet hadn’t considered this.
He wanted to persuade the leader to move south to attack, but couldn’t find the right words, so he rubbed his aching head and fell silent.
Time passed. The rapeseed outside the Green Sparrow Tribe bloomed and then wilted; the pods had grown small and yellowish.
“Start harvesting!”
One misty morning, Han Cheng examined the color of the pods and ordered the harvest.
Rapeseed wasn’t a staple; its primary use was as a vegetable before maturing. The harvested seeds were mostly mixed with chopped grass to feed the tribe’s chickens, ducks, and geese. So in proportion to the tribe’s land, it was a little less than one-twentieth.
Harvesting on this scale didn’t require a large operation.
Some were assigned to harvest, others began planting the third batch of grains, along with soybeans and field peas.
Even as this work proceeded, house construction in the tribe continued.
This was the advantage of a large workforce: many tasks could be done simultaneously.
From sunrise to sunset, Shitou craned his neck, his eyes tired, and all he saw was a large cassia tree on the moon, not a beautiful woman dancing as in a myth.
Days passed; rapeseed was harvested, threshed, winnowed, dried, and stored in granaries.
Previously harvested land was plowed and planted, mainly with soybeans this time.
Rotation with soybeans and wheat would have been ideal, as soybean roots improve soil fertility for wheat. Unfortunately, there was no wheat, so soybeans shared space with rapeseed.
Shu Pi’s leg injury had fully healed, leaving only a scar. He made sure to expose it when wrapping himself in furs, as it marked his actual rise within the Black Stone Tribe. He enjoyed recounting the story when asked.
Now, crouching by the water, he splashed it on his leg to clean it, focusing solely on the scar.
This drew attention to the injury that had protected the tribe’s weapons from the foolish Blue Flower Tribe leader.
Everyone believed the story, and Shu Pi accepted it as the truth.
Yet as he cleaned the wound, he was silent, recalling the Blue Flower Tribe chief and their clever plan—which led to nothing afterward.
A long time had passed since nearly being bald from the leader’s slaps, and Shu Pi still hadn’t found a way to persuade the cruel and stubborn leader to attack the Green Sparrow Tribe.
Recently, he realized why his previously confident plan failed.
It wasn’t that his words weren’t persuasive or that the Green Sparrow Tribe was unappealing.
It was that the leader had never seen it firsthand, never tasted salted food, never used pottery, never stayed in a spacious, bright house, and never tasted food prepared by the divine child.
Without personal experience, one cannot imagine how wonderful the Green Sparrow Tribe is. No matter how persuasive Shu Pi was, it couldn’t convey the unseen and unfelt joys.
Thus, the leader remained content and indifferent to mentions of salt and pottery.
Understanding this left Shu Pi more despondent.
He realized he couldn’t solve the problem.
To persuade the leader, he had to show him the tribe’s wonders.
But to show him, the leader had to first travel south to the Green Sparrow Tribe.
Only firsthand experience could make him understand.
Thus, the situation became a deadlock.
In the meantime, Shu Pi had been experiencing stress and hair loss and was unable to find a solution.
If he hadn’t thought of a method, it would have been one thing—but now he had a solution, blocked only by circumstance…
Could he get some salt or pottery for the leader to try?
Once he tasted salted food or used pottery, the leader should follow his advice and lead people south to attack the Green Sparrow Tribe.
After brooding over this idea, Shu Pi became excited, even neglecting to clean his scar.
Inside the Green Sparrow Tribe, Han Cheng spread a paper covered with many drawings on the table.
It was last year’s map of the Qing Tong High-Speed route.
Han Cheng studied it carefully, then took a thin-edged copper knife to scrape off two written marks carefully.
Shitou watched curiously, unsure what Han Cheng was doing.
He didn’t ask, and Han Cheng didn’t explain, focusing on his work.
After a while, the two marks disappeared. Han Cheng pressed the slightly fuzzy fibers flat, then picked up a pen and wrote:
“Tongfu Inn.”
“Longmen Inn.”
As the pen moved, Shitou slowly read aloud the new names.
He scratched his head, puzzled why the divine child would rename two stations on the Qing Tong High-Speed route.
Tongfu Inn and Longmen Inn didn’t sound appealing, far less fitting than the original Songlin and Wild Duck Stations.
Shitou was confused, but Han Cheng was delighted, smiling at the future station names.
He had long wanted these names!
Indeed, presentation matters: even if the inns weren’t built yet, renaming them on the map instantly elevated their prestige.
Unfortunately, Tongfu Inn lacked Tong Xiangyu, Lü Qinghou, Li Dazui, and Bai Zhantang.
Longmen Inn, formerly Wild Duck Station, lacked Lianfeng and Mànmàn Huángshā, as well as Jin Xiangyu. Only the streams and wild ducks were practicing water-surface skills.
Han Cheng regretted this, then had a brilliant idea.
Those absent figures could be assigned there!
Shitou, noticing, thought to change his own nickname to Li Dazui due to his big mouth.
As he scratched his head, Shitou glanced up, saw Han Cheng smiling and nodding, and shivered, sensing something unpleasant might happen.
“I’m going to the bathroom!”
Though he didn’t understand what was coming, Shitou instinctively used the urination escape technique and ran off, deciding to keep a safe distance from Han Cheng for the next few days.
Watching Shitou vanish, Han Cheng sniffed, wondering if he really was that terrifying—he ran faster than some ers!
Han Cheng returned to the table, admired his own idea, then reluctantly rolled up the map.
The renaming wasn’t just for fun; besides nostalgia, it marked the Qing Tong High-Speed route’s improvement and the upcoming construction of the two inns.
Recently, with the third batch of crops planted, many tribe members were freed from fieldwork, perfect for completing the Qing Tong High-Speed project.
This was a major undertaking for the Green Sparrow Tribe, requiring full manpower and resources, and could not be left unfinished.
That evening, Han Cheng discussed the project with the tribe and began organizing personnel.
Last year’s road construction teams were mostly gone; additional skilled workers were assigned to build Tongfu Inn at the original Songlin Station location.
Food, bedding, and tools had to be prepared.
A day after the plan was arranged, the road-building team set off under Green Sparrow banners with supplies.
Han Cheng accompanied them this time, as it wasn’t just roadwork—he needed to oversee construction of Tongfu Inn and Longmen Inn, and build bridges along the Qing Tong High-Speed route.
Last year’s roads were dirt paths, leaving gaps in the bridges for this year.
The tribe lacked experience with bridges, so Han Cheng, knowledgeable and worldly, guided them.
Traveling along last year’s roads, he observed the paths.
Stone-paved sections remained solid, aside from stubborn weeds growing through cracks.
Dirt roads were less impressive.
Life’s resilience is astonishing: grasses sprouted even on compacted earth. After half a year of rain and wind, dirt roads softened, and erosion left marks.
This was partly because the roads weren’t fully maintained, and traffic was light.
Also, dirt roads are naturally inferior to stone.
Most seriously, three to four spots were thoroughly washed out, and two to three lost half the surface.
These oversights, initially underestimated during construction, became channels for runoff during rain.
Gu and last year’s workers reddened at the sight. Only six months had passed, and the roads were damaged—it was embarrassing.
“Divine Child, let’s repair it!” Gu exclaimed.
Han Cheng stopped them.
It’s better to guide than block. The idea was simple: instead of blocking runoff, it’s more efficient to build bridges where water flows.
Green Sparrow Tribe bridges were simple: solid stone piers on each side with thick stone slabs across.
Narrow spots had two piers with one span; wider spots had multiple piers and spans.
The spans were small, none exceeding 1.5 meters.
Given the tribe’s level and resources, advanced bridges were impossible.
Even a marvel like the Zhao Zhou Bridge, spanning dozens of meters, was beyond them.
But for the Green Sparrow Tribe, whose largest vehicles were donkey carts, these bridges sufficed.

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Chapter 828: Tongfu Inn and Longmen Inn