I am a Primitive Man

The atmosphere in the cave seemed somewhat solemn. Led by the senior brother, wrapped in as much fur as possible, the group bowed to the shaman before heading into the vast snow.

As they trudged through the snowy terrain, the group gradually became tiny dots, obscured by the dense trees, disappearing. Due to the cave's opening, the temperature dropped rapidly, causing some children to shiver.

The shaman instructed a few women left in the cave to seal the entrance. Returning to his usual spot, the shaman appeared even more contemplative.

Han Cheng stood silently on the side, feeling the severity of the impending food crisis. Having just arrived and already hungry for two days and nights, he deeply understood the terrifying sensation of hunger. The burning feeling in the stomach was unbearable, worse than any torture.

It was this intense hunger that weighed heavily on his mood.

After silence, the shaman stood up and began to busy himself in the cave. He took out an item adorned with colorful bird feathers resembling a crown, placing it on his head alongside a feathered crown. These were then offered, along with the bone staff, in front of a stone resembling a totem pole.

Using a bone knife, the shaman cut open the palm of his left hand and smeared the flowing blood on his face. After instructing Han Cheng to leave the cave, the shaman dripped his blood onto the ground before the totem pole, uttering words incomprehensible to Han Cheng.

Subsequently, the shaman's actions became even more peculiar. He danced around, occasionally waving the white bone staff.

Although Han Cheng had never witnessed such a ceremony before, he understood that the shaman was performing a ritual, communicating with their sky god, and praying for blessings and relief from calamities.

After observing the shaman's rustic dance, Han Cheng wrapped himself in two more layers of animal hides, took a rudimentary fishing spear used by the tribe, and headed towards the cave entrance.

Now a tribe member, Han Cheng felt the urgency of the food crisis. However, being too young to join the hunting party with the elder brother, he had to find other ways to contribute to the tribe. He wanted to check the nearby river to see any fish.

Concerning the elder brother's claim that there were no more fish, Han Cheng had doubts. Judging by the distinct seasons and the appearance of the tribe members with their black eyes, black hair, and yellow skin, he could reasonably conclude that he was still in the land that haunted his dreams.

In his memories, the rivers in that land did not have many fish migrating seasonally like birds. However, given the several thousand or even tens of thousands of years' time difference from his original era, encountering different situations was expected.

Despite this, he wanted to investigate for himself.

"Where are you going?" The limp-legged primitive man asked in a hushed voice, afraid to disturb the shaman communicating with the god.

"I'm going outside," Han Cheng replied.

He pointed at the fish spear in Han Cheng's hand, questioning why he was taking it outside.

Han Cheng said, "Fish, stab fish."

The primitive man looked at him as if he were a fool. Even three or four-year-old kids in the tribe knew that there were no fish at this time. This seemingly shrewd guy said he wanted to catch fish. This… was something.

"No fish," he warned Han Cheng with a concerned expression. Despite the overpowering stench when Han Cheng defecated last time, he couldn't help but try to remind him to avoid unnecessary exposure to the cold.

Han Cheng looked at the man and suddenly realized a problem. Given the current temperature, the river would likely have frozen over. This wouldn't have been a problem for him in the past, but now, breaking the ice would be challenging.

The guy before him seemed like a good candidate for hard labor.

Han Cheng decided to deceive him.

Although his leg was lame, he could still walk, albeit very slowly. However, for primitive people, this was already a severe issue. Running slowly meant there was no way to chase after wild beasts, and when being chased by wild beasts, there was no way to escape. Running could be considered an indispensable condition for survival in this era.

Shaking his head, Han Cheng said, "Fish, not gone. Fish, hiding."

He gestured with his hands while saying this.

The primitive man didn't believe Han Cheng's words and stubbornly insisted, "No fish."

Shaking his head, he turned around and pointed to the cave's depths where the shaman was conducting a ritual. His meaning was that this information came from the shaman.

Han Cheng shook his head again. "Fish, not gone. Fish, still here."

He pointed to the sky and then to his head, indicating that the sky god had told him.

The primitive man widened his eyes, seemingly stunned by Han Cheng's expression. He somewhat believed it because, firstly, no one in the tribe dared to joke about the sky god. Secondly, Han Cheng's origin was strange. Falling directly from the sky, he had never heard of anyone who could ascend to the heavens, let alone communicate with the sky god.

He looked hesitant as he stared at Han Cheng, slowly standing up.

"Fish, still here," Han Cheng repeated.

He then told him that they wouldn't go hungry once they found the fish anymore. Under the dual attack of the god and Han Cheng's promise of not going hungry, the hesitant man finally agrees to join Han Cheng in catching fish for the tribe.

The entrance to the cave was opened, and Han Cheng, holding a fish spear, and the lame primitive man, carrying a stone for smashing, walked out of the cave. The women left the cave, watched these two dreamers leave, and sealed the entrance.

Taking a stone from the cave when going outside was necessary. Otherwise, picking up a stone from the ground in the ice and snow would be difficult. The biting cold seeped through the gaps in the animal hides, causing Han Cheng to shiver involuntarily. He now strongly felt the urge to return to the cave and sew some clothes.

Wrapping animal hides crudely around his body and tying them with tough grass was uncomfortably inadequate.

Braving the cold and stepping on snow, they walked towards the river. Just as they reached the riverbank, the lame man began to regret it. He shouldn't have listened to this guy and followed him outside. There was no fish here.

"跛" (Bǒ), meaning "Lame," was the name Han Cheng silently gave to the lame primitive man, as it was inconvenient without a name.