I am a Primitive Man-Chapter 933: The Nesting Tribe

The people of the Green Sparrow Alliance cherished pottery so deeply that there was no need to mention porcelain, which anyone could tell at a glance was incredibly precious.

As long as a person isn’t foolishly simple-minded, seeing something valuable naturally sparks the desire to own it.

Naturally, the people of the Green Sparrow Alliance were not fools—they wanted such exquisitely crafted porcelain.

Seeing their delight, the people of the Green Sparrow Tribe were equally pleased.

Especially Heiwa, the one who had crafted the porcelain, was thrilled.

Because it meant that their tribe could exchange it with other tribes to get many things.

Just like the first two years, when he and the Divine Child had just started firing pottery together.

As the visiting tribes happily expressed their desire to buy, and the Green Sparrow Tribe prepared to sell, an awkward problem suddenly arose.

The problem was that those who wanted to purchase couldn’t produce enough food, furs, or other items for trade.

Even to exchange for the smallest piece of porcelain, they couldn’t afford it.

And the Green Sparrow Tribe didn’t want to lower the price—this was porcelain, after all!

It was undoubtedly far superior to pottery; such delicate craftsmanship demanded a fair exchange.

The Green Sparrow Alliance people who wanted the porcelain thought the same.

Thus, in this mutual agreement, the porcelain trade came to an end.

Even though one side desperately wanted to buy and the other desperately wanted to sell…

This was the root cause of Heiwa’s frustration.

The porcelain had been fired by himself, following the Divine Child’s guidance.

It was exceptionally beautiful, even more so than the Divine Child had claimed.

Yet, precisely because it was too exquisite, it couldn’t be traded with other tribes…

Subsequent tribes reacted in the same way: they wanted the porcelain but lacked enough food or goods for exchange.

The Green Sparrow Tribe had considered lowering the pottery’s value for trade, but they never acted on it.

Looking at the outrageously beautiful porcelain, they simply could not bring themselves to lower the price.

So the situation remained deadlocked.

If the surrounding tribes had more food, their tribe could have exchanged porcelain for plenty of supplies—but as things stood, everyone wanted to trade, yet no exchange could happen because the tribes were too poor.

Heiwa shoveled a spade of dung and scattered it across the open ground, thinking this.

This was probably the first time the Green Sparrow Tribe had looked down on surrounding tribes for being too backward.

Perhaps, when the Fire Tribe arrived carrying hemp along the river, they could ask them if they could trade hemp for some porcelain…

Flowers blossomed in succession on the mountains—reds and purples in clusters, few leaves and many blooms, lively and bright.

Butterflies and bees, dormant all winter, emerged from who knows where, buzzing around, vividly illustrating the phrase “to attract bees and butterflies.”

The fragrance of flowers filled the air.

Nature is fair: brightly colored flowers often have weak scents, while white or yellow, seemingly modest flowers, usually fill the air with fragrance.

An elderly-looking man climbed along a stick tied to a tree.

The stick tied to the tree was about twenty centimeters thick, not completely smooth, but cut to form small platforms.

These platforms were spaced about thirty centimeters apart along the stick.

Each platform was small, barely large enough for half a forefoot. People encountering such a tool for the first time would feel very uneasy; the timid wouldn’t dare climb.

But the tribe before him was clearly not in that category.

They were accustomed to such tools, and even the older members could climb smoothly.

The elderly-looking man, climbing upward, even let go with one hand, holding a jar in the other while wrapping an arm around the tree.

He wasn’t climbing to pick fruit—no fruit would be ripe at this season.

He climbed to rest in the tree.

After climbing for a while, he reached about seven or eight meters above the ground, where the light grew dimmer.

It wasn’t that the tree itself blocked sunlight, but because a wooden house had been built using the trunk and branches.

The old man’s head went through an opening beneath the wooden house and into the structure.

After climbing two more steps, more of his body entered the house.

He placed the jar on the floor, climbed two more steps, aligned his foot with the floor, and stepped in, freeing himself from the ladder of sticks.

The floor was made of split logs, arranged side by side and tied with ropes.

A layer of fur covered it, making it comfortable to walk barefoot.

The elderly man walked further, felt around, then pushed forward a wooden window, letting sunlight in.

He sat cross-legged with the jar beside him. Sunlight warmed him.

Branches with flowers and buds drooped near the window. A butterfly silently rested on a flower, drinking nectar.

Looking out, he could see taller trees, each with wooden houses. Some were larger than his, but his house was the most exquisite.

Children or adult women occasionally climbed up and down using the tools tied to trees. New wooden houses sprouted branches with flowers.

Two houses swayed slightly.

Being the eldest in the tribe, he understood the meaning of such swaying.

Unlike later generations, who felt shame, the old man saw it as sacred; such acts led to the growth of the tribe.

“@#45@#!”

Time seemed to freeze.

After a while, excited shouts rang out.

The area became lively. People emerged from the houses, climbed down using the tree tools, and ran joyfully in one direction.

The elderly man smiled.

He moved to the window and looked through branches and leaves to see a group approaching, led by a hunched figure.

They had returned from outside.

The elderly man withdrew and climbed down to meet them.

As the group returned, the forest became bustling with laughter.

Those returning placed their palms to their foreheads—a high form of respect in their tribe.

“@34￥￥…”

After everyone finished, the elderly man smiled, touched his own forehead, then touched theirs—a blessing and welcome.

Afterward, they unloaded what they had carried or what their animals had borne, displaying their acquisitions from trade.

This time, most eyes were on the hunched figure, awaiting him to open his bundle.

The elderly man saw this, smiled, and waited silently.

The hunched figure opened the bundle, carefully unwrapped layers of furs, and revealed a pottery bowl.

The crowd went silent. Even the calm elderly man froze, eyes widening in disbelief.

After a moment, he stepped forward, examined the bowl closely, and carefully took it in both hands.

All eyes followed the exquisite porcelain in the elderly man’s hands.

The hunched group also watched him.

This pottery had been traded from another tribe at great cost.

Though they had seen such pottery before, seeing it again filled them with awe.

The hunched figure then poured some white salt from a gourd and explained its benefits.

The usually composed elderly man, looking at the beautiful pottery and the salt, trembled slightly.

After a while, he returned to his treehouse, carefully handing the bowl back to avoid dropping it.

Inside, he finally asked where the pottery and exceptional salt had come from.

The hunched figure recounted their journey.

The elderly man was the tribe’s Shaman, a symbol of wisdom.

Even he couldn’t hide his astonishment—another tribe, similar to theirs, had pottery and salt even better than theirs.

As they spoke, others in the clearing learned of the encounter.

“@￥%5…”

Someone excitedly suggested finding and seizing that tribe…