I am a Primitive Man-Chapter 931: Telling the Shaman to Go

The hunchbacked primitive turned and looked at the precious pottery his own tribe had brought, then compared it with the exquisite pottery before him, instantly understanding why this tribe behaved the way it did.

If his own tribe possessed such finely crafted pottery, they too would likely react with the same pride—or perhaps even more.

With pottery this beautiful, it was no wonder they looked down on what his tribe had brought.

But what about the salt?

The delicious salt!

His tribe hadn’t only brought pottery—they had also brought white salt!

Thinking of the salt, the hunchbacked primitive suddenly felt much more confident.

He stood up, quickly grabbed a jar of the delicious salt from where their goods were placed, and brought it over, placing it before the tribe’s leader, who had his head held high, letting only his chin be seen.

“@4@#34!”

He shouted loudly, pointing to the jar of salt.

The tribe leader, still holding his head high, slightly lowered it and glanced down at the jar. Then, with a proud snort, he raised his head again, exuding arrogance and an air of absolute dominance.

Fortunately, there was business to attend to. After striking this imposing pose for a moment, he squatted carefully to pick up a nearby gourd.

He uncorked it and carefully poured out some salt.

He waved it in front of the hunchbacked primitive, then cupped his hands around it, carefully pouring the salt back into the gourd.

It was as if he feared that if anyone looked too long, the precious salt might vanish.

Now, this was real salt!

Not only did it make food taste extremely good, without any strange flavors, but it was also completely clean.

Unlike the salt the hunchbacked primitive had seen before, which not only tasted mediocre but also contained small bits of soil and grit.

Having never seen better before, he had assumed salt always looked like the kind his tribe carried.

Now that he had seen real, clean salt, the tribe leader immediately judged the hunchbacked primitive’s people as dishonest.

Seeing the primitive watching his hands and the gourd so intently, the leader thought for a moment and let some tiny salt crystals stick to the hunchbacked primitive’s palm, almost reluctantly.

After this, he gripped the gourd, stood up, and once again held his head high—though not as high as before, because raising it too much would make it impossible to observe the primitive without losing the satisfaction of watching secretly.

As the tribe leader raised his head and squinted, the hunchbacked primitive recalled what he had just seen and carefully examined the salt crystals in his palm, feeling completely stunned.

There was no soil, no grit—something he had never imagined possible.

Yet now, he could see it with his own eyes.

After a while, the hunchbacked primitive brought the salt to his mouth and carefully tasted the tiny crystals.

The difference from the salt he had tasted before was immediate—the hunchbacked primitive’s eyes lit up in disbelief.

The salt had no grit, no bitterness or astringency, and most importantly, it tasted excellent!

He felt utterly amazed. Until now, he had never imagined that in a tribe where food was exchanged for pottery and salt, he could be astonished by just these two items.

“@#4W3…”

Squatting in awe, he shook his head and asked the tribe leader where they had obtained such precious items.

He could not believe the tribe had produced them themselves.

These two extremely valuable items were beyond his tribe’s ability to make.

Previously, this tribe had exchanged these items with its own tribe. If they had been able to make them themselves, they would never have exchanged food—they would have flaunted their possessions with pride.

The two tribes did not share a language, so it took a while for the hunchbacked primitive and the leader to communicate. After giving half a gourd of salt, they finally learned the origin of these treasures.

As he had suspected, the items were not made by the tribe but obtained through trade with another tribe.

That tribe, like theirs, carried precious goods to exchange for food.

Unlike this tribe, they did not know where the other tribe came from or where they were going.

One difference, however, was that the other tribe did not have large livestock; they carried their goods on their bodies or tied them to flat sticks and transported them that way.

The hunchbacked primitive led his livestock, carrying his tribe’s goods, away from the tribe.

This time, they did not obtain the food they had hoped for; instead, they gave half a gourd of salt to learn about the mysterious tribe.

Such a thing had never happened in their previous exchanges.

Holding the reins of his beasts in one hand and his weapon in the other, he glanced back.

The tribe leader faced the direction they were leaving, raising his head even higher.

The hunchbacked primitive was tempted to return, strike them with his weapon, or even kill them to seize the two precious items—but he restrained himself.

This was not only because he understood their pride—if his tribe had such items and faced an even stronger tribe, they would do the same, perhaps even more arrogantly—but also because the tribe’s Shaman had instructed them: when exchanging with other tribes, they must not attack unless provoked.

He knew why.

Their tribe’s method of obtaining food was different from most.

Other tribes collected food from trees and bushes or hunted, but his tribe obtained food through trade with other tribes.

These other tribes were like fruit trees; if destroyed, no more fruit could be gathered.

As long as they didn’t destroy those tribes, their own tribe could repeatedly obtain food and goods through pottery and salt.

This was their survival wisdom, the main reason their tribe thrived more than most.

When survival depended on cleverness, people became smarter and more resilient—just like the hunchbacked primitives’ tribe.

With these thoughts, the hunchbacked primitive led the group onward to other tribes in the area.

Compared to previous trips, the mood was less joyful.

Most were still marveling at the extraordinary items they had seen, imagining how wonderful it would be to possess them.

Only the hunchbacked primitive and a few others worried.

Their tribe relied on pottery and salt to obtain food, but now they had encountered something superior, making their own goods insufficient for trade.

This was troubling news.

He worried—if more tribes were like the one they had just left, what would become of his tribe?

Wisdom was rare; most people were ordinary and short-sighted.

After several days’ journey, they reached another tribe.

Thankfully, his fears did not materialize. This tribe received them warmly, as before.

The hunchbacked primitive exhaled in relief.

After exchanging goods, they continued toward other tribes.

Time passed, and new buds appeared on the bare trees, green gradually returning to the dry grass.

The old hunchbacked primitive led his group back.

This trip took longer than usual because the three tribes they had intended to trade with had already acquired better pottery and salt from others, forcing them to visit more tribes to exchange everything.

Spring intensified, and the group grew restless, but the hunchbacked primitive remained subdued.

Even as women with flower garlands passed by, he lacked interest in distraction.

Partly due to age and experience, but more because of what they had encountered.

It wasn’t the lost time that bothered him—the least valuable thing—but the exquisite pottery, the delicious salt, and those who possessed them and traded with others.

They had not yet encountered those people.

“#￥5@3…”

After reflecting for a while, he spoke, instructing everyone to focus on the journey and postpone other tasks until rest, so they could return to the tribe sooner.

What they had encountered was completely unexpected; the tribe had never faced such a situation.

Returning earlier meant he could report everything to the Shaman and seek guidance.

The Shaman was wise; he would know how to handle these unprecedented circumstances.

Two donkeys, harnessed to the wooden harrow made by Mao-Ear and others, began plodding forward at the shouts of the second Elderbrother.

The harrow’s teeth broke up clods of earth, and the wooden edges pressed down remaining chunks.

Han Cheng meticulously prepared the soil, later smoothing it further with a small rake and mixing in sheep and donkey dung.

All of this care was for cultivating seedlings—there was no room for sloppiness.

The soaked, shelled rice in the courtyard had already swollen considerably…