I am a Primitive Man Chapter 789: The Magical Ink Line

Chapter 789: The Magical Ink Line

Many things in the world are like this — just separated by a thin layer of paper on a window. Once you break through that layer, you immediately get a whole new, brand-new outcome, and discovering a whole new world isn’t impossible.

But breaking through that thin membrane isn’t easy.

Take Lame for example.

Attaching wheels to things and making carts for transportation is the most normal thing for people from the future, but for the people in the tribe, it’s tough to come up with.

If it weren’t for Han Cheng’s timely hints, even given their current level, it would still be challenging for the tribe’s people to think about adding wheels to sleds to make carts pulled by deer or donkeys.

You only need to see Lame’s reaction now to understand this.

In fact, this is the most significant advantage of someone who has traveled back in time: because they know from many years ahead, things that seem trivial and natural to them will cause a considerable stir in the eyes of the people in this era.

Seeing Lame bow deeply to him and respectfully call him “Divine Child,” along with the shaman who soon joined in, Han Cheng was full of emotion.

The key part of making a two-wheeled donkey cart isn’t the sled-like body on top, but the wheels underneath.

This is a very technically demanding part, especially the axle bearing that connects the two wheels.

The weight of the cart itself, plus whatever load it carries, is first borne by the bearing, then distributed to the two wheels — the load it must handle is huge.

Before the tribe had bronze, relying solely on hardwood to make axles for single-wheel carts was doable, but for two-wheeled donkey carts destined to carry heavy loads, hardwood was not up to the task.

Therefore, making donkey carts wasn’t just the job of Lame the carpenter, but also Heiwa, who made molds, and the second senior brother in charge of bronze and iron production, besides sling making.

Han Cheng hadn’t even finished saying they needed to call Second Senior Brother and Heiwa to study the matter together when Bo, extremely excited, was already limping away quickly to find the two.

His speed made Han Cheng, whose legs were perfectly fine, feel a bit left behind.

Before long, Second Senior Brother and Heiwa arrived, both equally excited, following Bo.

“Divine Child!”

“Divine Child!”

They had roughly figured out from Lame on the way over why Han Cheng called them, and after greeting Han Cheng, their eyes gleamed as they waited for him to assign the task.

Han Cheng was delighted with their attitude. He immediately took a sheet of paper, a charcoal pencil, a ruler, and a compass, and began drawing two wheels connected by an axle bearing.

After finishing the drawing, he shared some of his own insights.

Regarding wheels, Han Cheng’s memories mostly came from childhood, playing with friends in his village, spinning the wheels from their family’s ox cart — one wheel touching the ground, the other suspended.

Holding it by hand and giving it a strong spin, the ox cart wheel would turn.

In those toy-scarce days, such fun was enough to keep him entertained for hours.

But the ox cart wheels back home had rubber tires and bearings connecting wheels to axles, with steel sleeves and little steel balls between inner and outer sleeves, all lubricated with oil.

These features reduced friction, making the cart’s movement lighter and smoother.

Knowing this was far from actually making such a thing, but at least he understood the direction they needed to aim for.

Han Cheng pointed to his simple sketch while explaining this to the group.

Lame and Heiwa understood quickly; Second Senior Brother, a latecomer to bronze work, was slower to grasp compared to the other two, who caught on immediately.

During this process, Han Cheng had to maintain a gentle and calm attitude, or else this big, imposing man would show a face like he was about to cry — which was hard to watch.

Fortunately, the bearing sleeve and related parts mainly depended on Heiwa making the molds; once the molds were ready, Second Senior Brother could follow procedures to cast the parts.

The discussion about donkey carts went on until dusk before concluding.

By then, several other Green Sparrow tribe leaders had arrived after hearing the news, like the Eldest senior brother, Shang, and Mao.

Everyone leaving the meeting was visibly excited, eager to ride on those two-wheeled donkey carts.

Meanwhile, the key technicians, Second Senior Brother, Lame, and Heiwa, were rubbing their hands, rolling up their sleeves, ready to start work.

If not for Han Cheng ordering them to rest well and start fresh tomorrow, these guys could have easily stayed up all night working…

“Brother Cheng, what is a donkey cart?”

That night, lying on the kang bed, Bai Xue asked Han Cheng with curiosity.

“It’s a sled with a large wheel installed on each side near the middle, then hitched to donkeys to pull it,” Han Cheng explained.

After thinking a moment, he added, “Once the tribe builds the donkey carts and the road to the Copper Mountain settlement is ready, we’ll hitch the donkey cart, load it with canned goods, jerky, millet, pots, and bowls. I’ll drive the cart, and you and Little Pea will ride along. Then, we’ll take Fu Jiang and Tuantuan with us to Copper Mountain to play.

I’ll show you the blue-glowing pools on Copper Mountain…”

In the future, if you tried to take a girl out, saying, “I’m bringing the family ox cart, you and the kids will see the outside world,” you’d most likely get a blank stare, and then she’d turn and leave.

Taking the kids along? That’s just a dream.

But now it was totally different.

When Han Cheng talked about this donkey cart without keys that could even drop your belt, and taking her and the kids out to play, Bai Xue hugged his arm happily, eyes sparkling.

Han Cheng thought again: if single guys back home knew how easy it was to find a wife here, with such low demands, they might rush to the desert and touch those rock paintings…

He guessed that if the time travel was far enough back, maybe he could even find a fair-skinned, beautiful, long-legged, blonde-haired, blue-eyed wife.

Of course, the premise was to survive this era, not become beast food, and take her to wash up…

The next day, many tribe members woke early, some with dark circles under their eyes.

Most obvious were Lame, Heiwa, and Second Senior Brother — the leading donkey cart builders — and Bai Xue, too excited from the idea of a donkey cart trip to sleep well.

When Tuantuan and his mom arrived, they looked puzzled at the tired bunch, silently hugged their bamboo, and quietly left…

“Chii chii~ chii chii~”

Outside the carpenter’s workshop, two apprentices whom Lame had brought out stopped weaving rattan armor. They were now energetically pulling a saw, cutting down along a straight line drawn with a charcoal pencil and ruler. As fine sawdust fluttered down, a piece of wood standing upright gradually got cut into planks.

Lame squatted nearby, holding a bronze axe, chopping another piece of wood.

The sled’s upper part looked quite similar to the donkey cart’s, but there were still some differences. Also, it felt a bit wasteful to destroy a perfect sled to turn it into a donkey cart. Since the bronze axle and related parts couldn’t be made quickly, and time was sufficient, Lame planned to build a new donkey cart based on the sled’s design, incorporating some of Han Cheng’s suggestions from yesterday.

After making this new donkey cart, they would move on to crafting the wooden wheels…

Inside the pottery workshop, Heiwa was squatting and molding clay to make a new mold. The process was not going smoothly; he kept glancing over at two sheets of paper placed not far away.

On those sheets were Han Cheng’s drawings — the two wheels connected by an axle bearing, and the bearing itself.

After looking for a while, Heiwa returned to continue making the mold.

During this process, he ruined many half-finished clay molds.

Nearby, the shaman’s hand warmer, Yuan, was helping to knead clay. Having made pottery often back in the semi-agricultural tribe, Yuan had a strong passion for pottery.

So, after coming to the Green Sparrow tribe and seeing Heiwa making pottery, she would often watch with keen eyes.

After watching for some time, she began to help knead clay herself and tried making pottery.

With a pottery master like Heiwa around, Yuan benefited a lot, and her pottery skills improved significantly compared to before…

“Sigh~”

One apprentice carpenter, holding a long wooden ruler in one hand and a charcoal pencil in the other, couldn’t help but sigh.

He had just drawn a crooked line — his third time already.

If the line were not corrected, once they cut the wood along it, the whole plank would be ruined and become scrap. So the apprentice had to find a rag, wet it, and keep wiping the line off.

After carefully cleaning it, he drew the line again — and again it was wrong.

This made the apprentice both angry and anxious, causing him to stomp his feet on the spot.

The piece of wood currently being cut was already halfway through. Soon it would be finished. If he couldn’t draw the lines correctly before the wood was entirely cut, the work would be delayed.

And the senior carpenter, Lame, might blame him.

The apprentice felt rushed to finish the lines, but the more anxious he got, the more mistakes he made.

As the remaining wood neared completion and the apprentice still struggled with the lines, the apprentice suddenly started crying, tears dropping quickly.

“Why aren’t you done yet?”

Lame, who was chopping a pillar nearby with his axe and hadn’t heard the saw for a moment, looked up to see the two sawing apprentices resting and standing near the apprentice drawing lines.

Seeing the apprentice wiping tears anxiously, Lame immediately understood.

He frowned and asked sternly.

This apprentice had only recently started learning carpentry; it was normal to be inexperienced in drawing lines. Previous apprentices also struggled with marking lines at first.

Lame understood this.

What made him angry was seeing the apprentice crying.

Everyone encounters difficulties; when that happens, they should try to overcome them. Crying like this was something Lame couldn’t stand.

The apprentice, already very anxious, became even more so after Lame’s words.

Although he tried hard to stop crying, he just couldn’t.

Seeing this, Lame’s frown deepened, and the two who had been helping stopped their work.

In the Green Sparrow tribe, openly expressing emotions when facing hardship was not well-received.

“What’s going on?”

Han Cheng came out of the pottery workshop and saw the scene, asking what was going on.

“Divine Child, he’s drawing the lines…”

Lame didn’t hide anything and explained the situation directly in front of the apprentice.

The apprentice, already crying hard, sobbed uncontrollably.

Han Cheng smiled at Lame after hearing the situation, then asked about the donkey cart’s body construction before walking over to the apprentice.

Like most children, the apprentice was worried about facing an adult after making a mistake.

He was already upset about being blamed by the senior carpenter, Lame, for poor lines, and now the most respected Divine Child happened to arrive right at this moment.

What made it worse was that Divine Child was now approaching him…

“Can’t draw the lines well?”

Han Cheng squatted beside the apprentice and asked gently.

This apprentice was born in the second spring of the Green Sparrow calendar, named Mao’er (Cat Ear) because his ear was not perfectly round but somewhat like an irregular triangle.

According to the Green Sparrow calendar, Mao’er was already eight years old and considered nine by traditional counting.

At nine, in the future, kids were still in primary school, but Mao’er not only studied some knowledge at the Green Sparrow school but also worked as a carpenter apprentice.

This was already a significant change after Han Cheng arrived. Before, children of Mao’er’s age in the tribe mostly didn’t take part in dangerous hunting and were treated like adults in most other work.

“Having a mountain means relying on it; no mountain means carrying it alone.” The saying for poor kids growing up early perfectly describes the life of most underage children in this era.

Mao’er held back his tears desperately, but the more he tried, the harder it got.

The Divine Child’s question only made him more unable to stop crying.

Yet he couldn’t avoid answering.

As he tried to speak while sobbing with tears and snot flowing, he blew a massive snot bubble from his left nostril — so big it almost covered half his face.

Mao’er himself was stunned by this magical incident and forgot to cry or reply for a moment.

Seeing all this, Han Cheng, though knowing laughing now was inappropriate, couldn’t hold back.

He crouched down and laughed heartily, clutching his belly.

Han Cheng was good at holding back laughs, usually, rarely laughed so wildly.

Unless he couldn’t help it.

Mao’er, blown-up snot bubble and all, saw Divine Child laughing uncontrollably in front of him.

He froze for a moment, then finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into loud crying again.

The two of them, one big and one small, created quite a lively scene—one squatting and holding his belly laughing, the other standing and bawling loudly.

Anyone from the future who didn’t know the background would probably think Han Cheng, this strange uncle, had stolen the kid’s bubble gum.

Bubble gum… huh.

Seeing Mao’er cry even harder, Han Cheng finally summoned great willpower to hold back his laughter.

“Stop crying. Wash your hands and face properly. After you wash and stop crying, I’ll teach you a quick way to draw straight lines.”

Han Cheng put on a serious face and said authoritatively to Mao’er.

Sure enough, a serious face worked best with such a little guy. Watching Mao’er walk away, occasionally wiping his face, Han Cheng—who had just been serious—burst into silent laughter again.

Just then, Mao’er turned his head back unexpectedly, and Han Cheng instantly snapped back to a serious expression.

“Divine Child, is there really a quick way to draw lines?”

After washing up, Mao’er’s tears mostly stopped, and Lame came over to ask upon hearing Han Cheng’s words.

As the tribe’s top carpenter, Lame didn’t want to miss any improvement related to woodworking or weaving.

“Yes, there really is, but I just thought of it myself.”

Han Cheng nodded and said.

Hearing Han Cheng confirm this, Lame immediately brightened up, full of expectation.

Han Cheng turned and went back inside to fetch a thin hemp rope, and also took a block of ink made by the shaman. He added some water to a roughly made pottery inkstone and began grinding the ink slowly.

As he ground, the water in the inkstone gradually darkened, turning into ink.

Lame stood by, watching and thinking hard, trying to understand how the Divine Child would use these things to make better lines.

Of course, Lame knew you needed charcoal pencils or ink with a brush for marking lines—but he was puzzled why Han Cheng didn’t bring a brush, but instead took out a length of hemp rope.

Isn’t hemp rope used for weaving cloth or making rope? Why was the Divine Child now bringing it out?

“Hold this end.”

After grinding the ink, Han Cheng soaked the hemp rope in the pottery inkstone, leaving only the two ends exposed.

He then pointed to the other end and said to Mao’er, who had finished washing his face and came back over.

Mao’er was attracted by this unusual object that Han Cheng had prepared. Except for the occasional sniffle, he had stopped crying.

Hearing Han Cheng’s instructions, Mao’er imitated him and carefully pinched the other end of the soaked hemp rope.

Following Han Cheng’s signal, the two pulled the ink-soaked hemp rope taut between them, heading over to the piece of wood Mao’er had been drawing lines on not long ago.

“Pull the rope up a bit with your hands, then let it go.”

Under Han Cheng’s guidance, they stretched the ink-soaked rope tight between two marks previously carved at either end of the wooden post.

Han Cheng looked carefully, confirming both ends were aligned, then said to Mao’er as he made a motion with his free hand, pinching the rope, pulling it upward, and then releasing it.

Mao’er followed the instructions cautiously, pinching the soaked hemp rope, pulling it up, then letting go.

The rope snapped back against the wood, leaving a clear black line—perfectly straight, without any curve.

Mao’er looked at his ink-stained fingers, then at the slightly trembling hemp rope and the clear ink line below it. His eyes grew wide with surprise and disbelief.

He couldn’t believe that the line that had troubled him to tears before was now made so easily, straight and evenly thick.

“Divine Child…”

Mao’er looked up at Han Cheng, both amazed and overjoyed, a little stunned and speechless.

Han Cheng smiled and said, “Come, let’s draw another line.”

“Okay!”

Mao’er nodded eagerly and, together with Han Cheng, moved the hemp rope to the next marked spot.

This time, without Han Cheng needing to speak, Mao’er pinched the rope himself, pulled it up, and let go.

Fine ink droplets scattered as another black, straight line appeared on the wooden post.

Looking at the new line and the rope stretched between him and Han Cheng, Mao’er’s eyes lit up.

Not only Mao’er’s eyes lit up, but also those of Lame, the first carpenter, and the other younger carpenters watching nearby.

Among them, Lame’s eyes shone the brightest.

Using a wooden ruler on logs or planks to draw straight lines looked easy, but in practic