Chapter 205: Knocking on the door at night
The reality proves that stories will always be more attractive than mere preaching, not only for modern people but also for primitive ones.
The people initially excited to hear the story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl quickly lost interest after encountering the complicated and difficult-to-understand calendar. Their excitement turned into drowsiness.
Han Cheng patted Shi Tou, whose eyes reflected the half-moon, signaling him to stop thinking and go back to sleep, continuing observation and recording tomorrow.
One by one, the people dispersed. With the moon's light scattered on the ground, they entered their rooms and climbed onto their beds to rest. Some with better spirits gazed at the night sky through the uncovered windows, trying to find the two stars of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl.
Unfortunately, after the moon rose, many stars hid themselves, and the small window only revealed a small portion of the night sky and a few scattered stars.
After being hypnotized by the incomprehensible calendar explained by Divine Child, the people felt their sleepiness disappear once they entered the house. The story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, which they had heard twice before, resurfaced in their minds.
Some watched the night sky, while others lay on the bed, embracing each other and discussing the incredibly exciting story, unwilling to fall asleep.
It can be imagined that in the future, the Green Sparrow Tribe will be immersed in the excitement of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, and there will be many more "sages" who gaze at the stars in their free time.
Unfortunately, the Green Sparrow Tribe did not have paper, and the people were not in the habit of writing. Otherwise, there would be a situation where "Green Sparrow Paper is precious."
Unlike most people, what occupied Shi Tou's mind the most was not the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl but the talking bull that could fly when wearing its skin, as well as concepts like years, months, days, seasons, and the different shapes of the moon.
Although he couldn't find the bull now, he could see the moon anytime. He had never looked forward to the arrival of the next long night as much as he did now.
Since becoming the next shaman and encountering the mysterious "sky god" who never communicated with him, Shi Tou's frequency and duration of looking up at the sky gradually increased.
Because that was where the sky god lived, and it was also where Divine Child came from.
Unfortunately, after observing for a long time, he only saw vastness, emptiness, mistiness, and mystery, things he could feel but couldn't express. This made him very uncomfortable.
Tonight, Divine Childs words had greatly encouraged him. Things that he had no clue about before suddenly had a solution. One way was the bull, and the other was to observe and record the moon.
Although he had wondered before why the moon rose and set and why it waxed and waned, he had never thought about doing something about it until now, thanks to the Divine Child's hint.
The moon was also something in the sky, said to have existed for a long time, just like the sky god.
He stared through the window at the moon, which had shifted considerably from its original position, lost in thought, clenching his two small fists tightly
Han Cheng was unaware of Shi Tou's thoughts. If he knew, he would surely sigh inwardly at how this small primitive man surprisingly coincided with the method advocated by someone surnamed Wang in the future.
Of course, there were huge differences between their aspirations and methods.
Han Cheng also hadn't fallen asleep yet. He wasn't as engrossed in the primitive version of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl as the others, but rather, he was worried about Fu Jiang.
Only he lived in a three-room, standalone house, making it feel somewhat deserted.
The shaman still refused to move in, which also worried Han Cheng.
Han Cheng felt the chill when he escorted the shaman into the cave. Because everyone had moved out of the cave and stopped making fires, it was much colder inside compared to before.
They needed to find a way to convince the old man to move into a tiled house. Otherwise, things would be troublesome if he fell seriously ill from the cold inside the cave.
Inside the cave, lit by a small lamp, the shaman, having taken off his shoes woven from grass, had half of his body buried under thick fur.
The fur was soft and thick, made from hides outside the tribe.
The shaman lay there, absentmindedly stroking the fur with his hands. His cloudy old eyes looked at the small lamp, carefully pondering what he had learned from the Divine Child tonight. The more he thought about it, the more he felt amazed. There were so many things outside their tribe, and the days they lived through could be divided into years, months, and days.
If each day could be given a name, then during future celebrations, instead of using joy grass as a token, they could just remember the name of that day, right?
Lost in thought, he suddenly remembered something and quickly looked at the lamp. He found a small pit forming beneath the crushed and twisted rope grass under the firelight, filled with liquid resembling clear water. He hastily patted his forehead, realizing he had forgotten to extinguish the "lamp" first. Now, he had wasted quite a bit of precious oil!
With this thought, he leaned over and blew out the small flame.
The lamp was a simple creation made by Divine Child. It consisted of a small pottery bowl with a rope twisted from crushed grass placed inside. Animal fat, already melted, was then poured into the bowl. Once the rope soaked up the fat, it could be lit.
Including the Divine Child, most people in the Green Sparrow Tribe felt this was somewhat wasteful. After all, animal fat was a rare delicacy, so using it like this was a pity.
This was why most people didn't use the "lamp" made by Divine Child. Firstly, they were unwilling to waste the oil. Secondly, they felt it was unnecessary. After all, since birth, they had lived according to the cycle of sunrise and sunset. Lastly, the lamp's flame was too small compared to a bonfire.
The shaman had used it a few times and found it satisfactory. Unlike a bonfire that required constant wood feeding, the lamp could be carried around easily. It was much more convenient, but burning oil was a heartache
Han Cheng also had a lamp similar to this one but didn't use it often. It wasn't because he was reluctant to use lamp oil like the shaman but because he didn't have a lighter or matches. He didn't want to grope in the dark to start a fire at night, so once the lamp was extinguished, he wouldn't light it again. Most of his activities at night were done in the dark.
Another reason was that the lamp wick was not good. Made from scattered rope grass, it didn't last long when burning, and the flame was small, not as good as one made from cotton thread.
But thinking about the origin of cotton, Han Cheng sniffed and felt it was better not to think about it again. Instead of thinking about cotton, it was better to think about how to find hemp reliably.
After some random thoughts, Han Cheng also drifted off to sleep.
After sleeping for a while, he vaguely heard the door creaking. Han Cheng woke up from his dream, remembering the experience of dreaming about Fu Jiang returning last time. So this time, instead of rushing out like last time, he waited quietly with some expectation.
The surroundings were silent, without any movement. For a while, he couldn't tell if the sound he heard was from his dream or if it had happened.
After waiting a while, he sighed softly, closed his eyes again, and fell asleep. Just as drowsiness was about to overcome him, there was another knocking on the door, quite loud and forceful
This content is taken from freewebnove(l).com