I am a Primitive Man

Mu Tou's problem was extremely serious, leaving him without any clue.

He couldn’t carve a piece of stone into a not-too-thick cylinder.

It wasn’t because the stone was too hard to carve or because he lacked strength, but because he couldn’t draw a regular circle on the stone slab that was about to become the stone mill.

He couldn’t carve out a regular round stone mill without drawing a regular circle.

It was truly frustrating. Something he never thought would trouble him—his inability to carve a simple stone mill—had left him completely stumped.

He had tried for a long time on the granite slab but couldn’t draw a regular circle. Feeling helpless, he asked the carpenter, Lame, for help.

After hearing Mu Tou’s words, Lame didn’t say much and immediately came over, though he was somewhat dismissive, thinking, "It’s just a circle. How hard can it be?"

But after picking up the stone and trying to draw, Lame, too, was at a loss.

It turned out that drawing a seemingly simple circle was not as easy as it seemed.

Stone, who was often holding a "pen," happened to pass by and, understanding the two's predicament, volunteered to give it a try.

Though the circle he drew was slightly better than Mu Tou’s and Lame’s, it still wasn’t perfect.

After several failed attempts, the clever and eager-to-learn Stone was also left frustrated by this simple circle.

Thinking of asking the Divine Child for a solution but finding out that the Divine Child had gone to the Salt Mountain, Stone hesitated momentarily before seeking the tribe’s second wisest person, Shaman.

Shaman, passionate about using beans to make soy products, immediately came over upon hearing about the issue.

After some gestures and attempts, he, too, was at a loss.

At this point, all of them were holding their heads in despair, deep in thought.

A simple circle had stumped them all.

Shaman scratched his scalp in frustration, losing many more hairs, causing his already sparse hair to thin even further, speeding up the process of his hairline retreating toward the Mediterranean…

At this time, Han Cheng was at the Salt Mountain.

After explaining the construction of the stone mill to Mu Tou, he took the dog army and some people from the tribe and headed to Salt Mountain.

Mu Tou and the others could manage the stone mills, but he was personally responsible for the salt brine.

Compared to a few years ago, Salt Mountain has undergone considerable changes.

The desolate scene had decreased significantly, and there were now many more people.

In one part of the Salt Mountain, there were many scattered rocks, and the stone walls showed marks of human chopping.

These were traces left by the people of the Green Sparrow Tribe, who had been crushing salt ore to make salt for a long time.

The spring had been expanded and repaired not far from Salt Mountain, and the surrounding area and downstream had sparse vegetation.

On the one hand, it was due to the constant trampling by those who made salt, and on the other hand, it was also related to a thin layer of white frost on the ground. ṚἁꞐǑβЕṩ

This was a man-made saline-alkali land, and it was foreseeable that, over time, this area of saline-alkali soil would continue to expand.

This was the first wound the people of the Green Sparrow Tribe had left on this land as human civilization continued to develop.

The salt ore was crushed and placed into a large stone mortar to be smashed into smaller pieces. Afterward, it was placed into a large ceramic basin filled with water to dissolve.

After a brief settling period, a burlap bag wrapped around charcoal was placed on top, and the mixture began to be filtered…

The people who frequently made salt had already become skilled at this process.

However, this time was different.

In the past, the cloudy sediment resulting from dissolving the salt ore powder in a basin of water was always discarded. But this time, the Divine Child did not do that. Instead, he instructed them to keep the murky water full of fine stone fragments and store it in a ceramic jar.

They didn’t understand the purpose behind this, but they followed the instructions.

Han Cheng wanted this for making salt brine.

His reasoning was simple. The previous processes produced salt, so it seemed likely that the salt brine was contained in the usually discarded substances.

Salt brine is a highly toxic substance, mostly made up of various chemical components. Han Cheng had even heard of cases where people, in despair, drank salt brine to commit suicide.

Similarly, unfiltered, unpurified, and unrefined salt ore can also be toxic and deadly when consumed in large amounts.

Given this comparison, it wasn’t surprising to think that the salt brine was in those discarded substances.

What troubled Han Cheng was how to extract the salt brine from the impurities.

Staring at the murky water for a long while, unable to come up with any solution, Han Cheng felt a headache coming on.

Time travel, it turned out, wasn’t suited for someone from a humanities background.

If he had traveled to a familiar historical era as a humanities scholar, he could have used his knowledge of poetry and history to challenge the faces of famous historical figures or, by understanding the flow of history, subtly altered its course before it happened.

But directly traveling to this age left him at a loss.

Whenever he encountered topics related to physics and chemistry, Han Cheng felt a deep frustration, as though there was nowhere to begin.

“Let’s just cook it too.”

With no other option, Han Cheng decided to give it a try—whether it worked or not, he figured he’d at least try poking at it. Even if the method was unreliable, it was better than sitting around doing nothing and feeling hopeless.

The salt makers, upon hearing Han Cheng’s words, looked puzzled. Could it be that the things they had always thrown away could be used to make salt?

They were skeptical but didn’t hesitate. Soon, they set up a ceramic vat again.

They poured the murky water, full of stone fragments, into the vat and began to cook it.

After a while, the water boiled, and white steam rose. At the same time, the water became even murkier.

Watching from the side, Han Cheng couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose. He thought the chance of extracting salt brine through this crude method was slim.

The flames continued to burn, and the water in the ceramic vat gradually evaporated. White substances, mixed with many small stone fragments, appeared at the bottom of the vat.

Han Cheng instructed them to stop the fire and took a small sample to taste it with the tip of his tongue.

It had a strong salty flavor, but there were also other mixed, unpleasant tastes. Although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what those flavors were, he was sure of one thing—the taste was unpleasant, and just that one lick made Han Cheng cringe.

And with that lick, some of the stone fragments remained on his tongue, making it even more uncomfortable.

Han Cheng gargled his mouth for a while to relieve the discomfort.

This kind of taste, he thought, could only be tolerated by someone like Deer Lord, who used to practice his tongue against the Salt Mountain regularly.

After rinsing his mouth, Han Cheng carefully picked out the small white pieces mixed with the stone fragments, looking conflicted.

Now the question was: was this stuff salt brine?

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