I am a Primitive Man-Chapter 921: Congratulations to the Three for Successfully Holding Hands

Every social system arises from actual circumstances; it must align with reality. Take the Green Sparrow Tribe’s pairing system, for example.

In the tribe, it was common for a man to have multiple wives. Han Cheng, who had only married Bai Xue, did not impose a requirement that everyone in the tribe follow monogamy.

This wasn’t due to male chauvinism or anything like that—it was simply the reality of the tribe, and ignoring it was impossible.

Currently, adult women outnumber adult men by more than 2 to 1. If strict monogamy were enforced, most of the adult women in the tribe would be left single, becoming “old maids.”

This would be disastrous, harming the internal unity of the Green Sparrow Tribe and being extremely cruel to the women.

Long nights are hard to endure alone.

Even if someone lived alone, the tribe still practiced communal sleeping arrangements. Except for a few cases, an entire family lived in one room, let alone a single person having their own room.

This caused problems: listening to the melodic, primitive songs made falling asleep difficult…

Another reason was that strict monogamy was extremely unfavorable to population growth in the tribe.

Hence, the Green Sparrow Tribe had developed its current pairing system—not yet formalized but largely customary.

It was foreseeable that, as the gender ratio in the tribe gradually balanced, this system would evolve toward monogamy.

After all, no one wants to lie on the kang at night and hear others humming…

The chilly wind could not dampen the passion of the tribe’s young people. Amid the rough yet melodic songs, soon a pair of young people, drawn to each other by the singing, abandoned their flax-stripping tasks, went to the river to wash off mud, and then ran hand-in-hand toward a nearby grove, laughing and cheerful.

Seeing their success inspired the other young people, especially the males, who became energetic and enthusiastic, their voices louder as they sang.

Even those normally shy or poor singers joined in, opening their mouths wide. Among the most sung was the song once taught by the Divine Child’s sister, as well as another called Crossing the River, with the lyrics: “A winding river in front of the brother~ the sister sings sweetly~ across the way.”

Soon, more young people began running hand in hand toward the grove.

But this time, it wasn’t just a pair—it was three people: one male and two females.

Shaman sat on a small stool, one hand pinching a piece of flax, the other holding the stalk and pulling it against a wooden peg in front of him, tugging until the husk came off. He was very skilled at this.

While stripping the flax, Shaman looked around, watching the young people singing or running toward the grove afterward. His wrinkled face was full of smiles.

He could never tire of such scenes.

After events like today, many new babies would soon be born in the tribe.

Humans are roughly the same: as they age, they wish to see their children marry and have children, grandchildren running around, and even if the little ones caused trouble, it was sweet to the heart.

Older members with spouses watched with amusement, reminiscing about their own pasts compared to the present scene, feeling warm inside.

Some playful members not only reminisced but also helped their partners remember, whispering little shared memories that made their partners laugh.

Thanks to this event, the usually harsh flax-stripping work suddenly became warm and enjoyable.

Everyone worked and laughed, finding the task much less burdensome.

Another point worth noting: young adults living in the Bronze Mountain area would return to the main tribe before the flax-stripping and singing began, just to participate in this grandest matchmaking event of the tribe.

Fortunately, humans far outnumbered other species, and with sufficient food and energy, they could engage in such activities at any time, unlike most other species with fixed mating seasons.

Otherwise, this flax-stripping singing matchmaking festival would have to occur only in spring.

Of course, the Green Sparrow Tribe’s system still had imperfections, such as preventing inadvertent close-relative pairings.

Currently, in this early stage, with the next generation not yet grown—or not yet born—this wasn’t urgent.

Moreover, the Divine Child Han was busy, so the issue was temporarily set aside. Later, solutions would be sought…

“Pfft~”

The bronze spade pierced the soil. Han Cheng dug with both hands, lifting a clump of wet earth, which made that sound as he pried it up.

He rolled up his pant legs and carefully lifted the clump off the spade, standing upright with a sore back.

Opening paddy fields was far harder than dry fields.

Water plants and tangled roots made each scoop difficult, often requiring several tries to loosen the soil completely.

Walking in water was inconvenient; freezing the legs; using a hoe caused water to splash; and the soft mud provided no leverage.

Hence, developing paddy fields was slower than dry fields.

Most importantly, as the weather grew colder, the water would become too cold to work in.

Without long boots or rain pants—which the tribe did not have—winter work would be nearly impossible.

If they stopped work in winter, too few paddy fields would be prepared, limiting rice cultivation for the following year.

At best, they could plant a third of the rice they harvested into seedlings. Han Cheng could not accept this.

It would require more manpower, resources, and time to cultivate the land around Jinguan City.

Finding a solution wasn’t easy. Tools were lacking, and Han Cheng, coming from the future, was more familiar with dry fields than paddies. He lacked experience, knowledge, and methods for this situation.

But people often find solutions under pressure.

Indeed, without challenging oneself, one never knows one’s potential.

After much contemplation, Han Cheng devised a solution.

His method was simple: since paddy fields were hard to develop, convert them temporarily into dry fields.

This wasn’t a permanent conversion because the fields were meant for rice, not dry grains, and no drought-resistant rice had yet been developed.

The idea: dig trenches around a designated area, use the excavated soil to build embankments, isolate the area from surrounding water, and then open a channel to drain the water.

Gradually, the area would dry and become a dry field.

Dry fields could be developed more quickly, and winter work could continue without the risk of freezing water.

After clearing roots and turning the land into farmland, the embankments could later be partially removed to reintroduce water, returning it to a paddy field for rice cultivation.

Simply relying on embankments wasn’t enough, since water couldn’t fully drain.

Han Cheng also deepened and widened the deeper parts, creating channels that guided water downstream.

As a result, previously submerged areas emerged and dried day by day.

This method, combined with the embankments, turned many areas into dry land.

Han Cheng and others were digging channels, trying to create as much dry land as possible before winter made water work impossible.

Once winter came, they could continue developing the fields safely.

To maximize manpower, Han Cheng paused construction of the twelve tile-roof houses in the inner courtyard of Jinguan City, redirecting workers to the channels.

The effort had an additional benefit: a large harvest of fish and shrimp.

When water receded, fish and shrimp stranded in shallow pools or mud were easily caught, multiplying the tribe’s recent catches.

Han Cheng wasn’t worried about overfishing; once water was reintroduced, the aquatic population would recover.

In spring, fish could even be introduced into the paddy fields alongside rice. By autumn, rice and fish could be harvested simultaneously.

Fish would not hinder rice growth, would eat pests, and their waste would fertilize the rice.

Even without double cropping, harvesting rice and fish together was excellent.

Looking at the transformed land, Han Cheng imagined a better future before returning to work with his team.

A good life requires more than imagination; it demands effort.

While Han Cheng and the southward-migrating Green Sparrow Tribe labored to build their dreams, the elder woman also worked toward their own goals.

After some days of travel, they arrived at a cave.

Nearby were elderly or weak individuals, playing or gathering food.

At the sight of the elder woman, most froze in panic and rushed toward the cave to hide.

“#￥ER￥!”

One shouted in a strange voice, causing the others to stop and look toward the approaching elder females.

Their gaze fell upon the pottery the elder woman carried…