Becoming a Leader in a Primitive Otherworld - Chapter 25

By the time the farming tools were sharpened, summer had arrived, leaving approximately three months until their journey to the Great Market.

The open area across the river couldn’t yet be considered farmland.

Xie Yu planned to use the tools to cultivate several plots suitable for planting. Otherwise, under the current conditions, anything they planted wouldn’t grow satisfactorily.

Before reclaiming the land, they needed to survey the terrain and water sources. However, the area across the river was so close—just a bridge’s length away—and surrounded by water, making irrigation relatively easy. This step could be skipped, saving them considerable effort.

Before transplanting crops, Xie Yu led the group to clear the wasteland of vegetation, stones, and other debris.

Though summer had just begun, the weather hadn’t suddenly become scorching hot. Yet, the air already carried a faint, rising heat, and the temperature had noticeably increased.

Despite the warmth, everyone remained fully covered.

This was because Xie Yu forbade them from removing their clothing, allowing only for thinner animal hides to be worn.

Animal hides were always a precious resource, cherished by the tribespeople. For animals with particularly thick hides, the tribespeople would carefully split them into two or even more layers using stone knives. These thinner hides were especially popular during the summer months.

The tribe’s two prized rhinoceros hide armors were crafted in this manner. Rhinoceros hides were thick and commonly used for armor, providing excellent defense. However, their stiffness made them uncomfortable to wear for extended periods, so the tribespeople only wore them during battles.

“It feels stuffy,” Yan muttered, twirling the wooden handle of his plow and glancing around curiously. “Chief, when do we start? I can’t wait any longer.”

The young were always brimming with energy. Several others were already digging into the ground with their hoes.

They had just finished clearing the land of debris, leaving a small mountain of branches, weeds, and stones of all sizes piled in a corner.

Once everyone had gathered, Xie Yu used her hoe to mark out the boundaries of the fields according to her mental plan, dividing the area into five equal plots.

After dividing the land, the remaining area became a large livestock zone.

Later, when the Tribe hunted live animals like wild chickens and rabbits, they would release them into this zone. They would then carefully enclose the area with high fences on all four sides to raise the animals.

Rabbits reproduce rapidly, and Xie Yu couldn’t help but imagine an endless supply of rabbit meat in the future, lifting her spirits. However, this would have to wait until the plowing was finished.

Even then, they would need to regularly gather fodder to feed the rabbits, but raising them would still be much easier than hunting them.

“Come on, everyone!” Xie Yu called out to the dazed Tribespeople. “Come help me plow the fields!”

The plowing tools varied, including a land-clearing fork, which made turning the soil much easier.

The grass had already been cleared from these plots. Now, they needed to loosen the soil, making it as soft and loose as possible.

Xie Yu divided the group into five teams and led them in loosening the soil. Though the Tribespeople lacked technique, their brute strength made the initial work relatively easy.

Each plot was of average size, but the actual plowing would still take a considerable amount of time.

Stone hoes and plows rose and fell, striking the earth with rhythmic thuds, turning over clods of soil. The group worked quickly and efficiently, their hoes digging dense rows across the field.

As the sun grew hotter, sweat began to bead on their foreheads.

“I want to knock the sun down,” Ke Dao declared. “We can toss it back up in the autumn.”

Some agreed with her, while others argued playfully.

Ke scoffed. “Knock the sun down and keep it in your hearts. That’ll warm you all up.”

Xie Yu listened to their banter, occasionally glancing across the river at the settlement. She could see small groups of people moving about.

“Chief, what are you looking for?” Ke noticed Xie Yu’s distraction, her hoeing growing faster and faster until she was right beside her. “What is it? Your eyes are sharper than an eagle’s.”

Before Xie Yu could answer, Ke laughed. “Don’t bother looking, Chief. The Priest is in the woods. You can’t see her from here.”

How does she know more than I do? Xie Yu thought to herself.

“I saw the Priest go in when I arrived. I asked her what she was doing, and she said she was digging up the ingredients. Ah, didn’t she tell you?”

Xie Yu snapped out of her daze. “You know quite a bit,” she remarked. She had told Yun Nai it would take a while to start, but the Priest had moved much faster than expected.

Immediately afterward, Xie Yu overheard Ke’s hushed question, “Did you deliver the vine sandals?”

Hearing this, Xie Yu felt a surge of pride. “She said I made them beautifully,” she declared proudly.

Ke looked at Xie Yu with some hesitation, unsure whether to tell her the truth. Having seen the finished product, she admitted, “They’re… certainly unique.”

“What’s with that look?” Xie Yu straightened up, treating it as a temporary break. “Of course I know they’re ugly.”

Ke sighed in relief. So the Chief hadn’t let the Priest’s flattery cloud her judgment after all. She could relax now.

“Thank goodness! I was worried you actually thought they were beautiful—I feared your brain had gone soft,” Ke said, patting her chest as if still shaken.

Xie Yu paused, then bluntly pointed out, “Is that the main point? The main point is that even though she thought they were ugly, she still praised me.”

She kicked Ke’s heel and raised an eyebrow. “Does Ke get praised these days? No.”

“I can’t hear you! I can’t hear you!” Ke shook her head and stormed off, determined not to speak another word to Xie Yu that day.

Xie Yu quickly surveyed the group’s progress. After working so hard for so long, they were finally nearing completion.

She instinctively wanted to check the time but realized she had no clock, hourglass, or any other timekeeping device.

Judging by the sun’s position, she squinted and pondered, “About three hours, I’d say.”

“Since everyone’s almost done, let’s take a break. We’ll come back later to finish up.”

She raised a hand to shield her eyes. “We should fertilize this afternoon.”

“Fertilize? What fertilizer?” Ke asked, approaching, having already forgotten her earlier resolution.

“The ash we’ve been burning—it makes the soil stronger,” Xie Yu explained with a smile.

Another person raised their hand. “I get it! It’s like feeding the land.”

Yan, still hoeing the ground, grinned after his final stroke. “Today, I’m feeding myself some fatty fish!”

In Xie Yu’s memory, the primitive farming methods she had learned about involved slash-and-burn agriculture. Early humans had no concept of fertilization, relying on crude and simple methods.

They would clear a patch of wilderness, cultivate it until the soil’s fertility declined, then abandon it for a new plot, leaving the original land to waste.

When they switched to new land, they often had to cut down the existing trees and burn away the undergrowth.

This cycle of clearing, cultivating, abandoning, and clearing again would have been a major problem if land hadn’t been so plentiful compared to the population at the time.

However, the ash produced by burning vegetation during land clearing served as an excellent fertilizer, killing pests and enriching the soil.

In addition to wood ash, manure and silt also provided valuable nutrients for plant growth.

Therefore, Xie Yu had already instructed her people to collect wood ash and other soil-enriching materials while they were crafting agricultural tools.

Making wood ash was simple: gather dry leaves, withered grass, or straw, dig a pit, place a stone basin at the bottom, and burn the materials. The process yielded a steady supply of ash.

Moreover, the campfires in the tribal settlement produced abundant wood ash with every gust of wind.

Currently, people were making wood ash in a distant area, downwind from the settlement to prevent smoke from drifting toward the living quarters.

The group gradually dispersed to rest on the opposite bank of the river.

Lian hadn’t participated in clearing the wasteland today; instead, he had gone hunting. When he returned, he carried his bow and arrows on his back and a spear in his hand, his expression grave.

“What’s wrong?” Ping asked, startled by his expression, and patted the back of his head. “You’ve never looked like this before. Did someone bully you?”

She still thought of him as a child.

“Today, while hunting, I encountered people from another tribe,” Lian said, frowning.

Ping took the items from his hands, her own expression turning serious.

Xie Yu learned of this news while instructing others to wrap tree bark around the ash-filled stone basins.

The people pulling the bark lifted the stone basins, covered them with the bark, and then flipped the basins upside down. Otherwise, the ash would scatter into the air, resulting in an invisible loss.

When she heard Lian’s words, Xie Yu showed little surprise. “Were they very strong?” she asked.

“Oh no, they didn’t reveal anything.”

“So you didn’t go to their encampment.”

“No, I encountered them while hunting. There were only three of them,” Lian continued. “They probably thought they couldn’t afford to provoke me, so they were very polite.”

Many people overheard this account. The others glanced at Lian, secretly agreeing.

Indeed, they should be polite. Given Lian’s temper, he might have shot an arrow without hesitation.

Lian continued describing the hunting trip, “I had terrible luck today and didn’t catch anything.”

He shook the bird in his hand. “Just this little thing.”

“So I kept going, walked for a long time, hoping to get lucky, and that’s when I saw them.”

He recalled the surroundings. “There were long, thin green things that made it feel really cool. I think I was near their camp by then.”

Xie Yu immediately pictured a bamboo forest.

“Were they segmented, like with hard joints?”

Lian nodded. “Yes.”

Xie Yu’s eyes lit up. It had to be bamboo.

But first, she needed to be sure. “Did anyone follow you back?”

“No way,” Lian said confidently, shaking his head. “I waited until the three of them were far away before running. And I took a roundabout route—it’s hard to leave footprints there.”

The others relaxed, relieved that they hadn’t been discovered.

“Lian, do you remember how to get there?”

“Yeah, we can go right now.”

After a moment’s thought, Xie Yu said, “No need to rush. Everyone, don’t worry.”

They should finish their current tasks first. When they had time, they could go back and cut some bamboo.