I am a Primitive Man Chapter 932: Cultivating Seedlings

Using his knowledge from sprouting soybeans, Han Cheng used a sieve to lift the rice grains out of the water tank. He transferred them into the ready long, rectangular baskets made of wicker.

He spread a rough layer of cloth at the base of each basket to keep the damp rice grains from slipping out.

The soaked rice layer inside the basket stayed fairly thin—roughly one centimeter deep.

Following the soak, Han Cheng raised the basket and set it above a bowl filled with water.

The bowl held some water, though not a lot—sufficient to lightly dampen the rice in the basket.

Then, Han Cheng grabbed a strip of rough cloth, dipped it in water, squeezed it out a bit, and draped it over the rice grains in the basket. This finished the basic setup.

This method prevented the rice, if kept underwater too long, from suffering oxygen shortage, which could stop sprouting.

Naturally, Han Cheng lacked full expertise in rice farming—plenty of aspects needed experimentation.

From the two water tanks of soaked rice, just one got this special handling. The remaining tank's grains were sieved out and laid straight into a basket, which Han Cheng then took to the smoothed-out plot he'd set up beforehand.

He spread the wet rice seeds across the yielding dirt using his hands.

After even distribution, he employed a bronze shovel to gather fine soil from the edges and sprinkle it over the damp seeds.

This soil cover remained slim—about one centimeter—to let the seeds push through when sprouting.

Once covered, Han Cheng directed his second elder brother to fetch the water vessels.

One vessel featured a gourd ladle bobbing on its surface.

The second elder brother positioned the vessels along the nursery's border. Han Cheng grasped the ladle, drew water, and sprinkled it onto the seeds.

He poured plentifully, using roughly ten vessels' worth on this modest patch.

Post-watering and a short break, he and the second elder brother laid straw coverings made from winter-gathered dry wild grass over the seeds.

These straw mats minimized evaporation and preserved heat.

Though Han Cheng had no prior rice seedling experience, he knew vegetable and watermelon cultivation well.

Back home, early vegetable planting often involved such techniques.

For quicker watermelon sprouting in early seasons, folks would cover the ground with plastic film.

Without access to plastic films or covers, Han Cheng settled for straw mats. Protecting seedlings this way beat exposing them to the elements.

Whether raising chili, tomato, eggplant, or rice seedlings, success hinged on seed germination. Thus, adapting vegetable tactics to rice proved quite similar.

Subtler distinctions would emerge from ongoing trials to pinpoint optimal rice approaches.

Task complete, Han Cheng and his second elder brother lingered a moment before heading back to Jinguan City's inner yard with their implements.

Soon after, they emerged once more.

Viewing from the inner yard, the vast water expanse nearby had transformed greatly from its former state.

The water that once flooded everything now gathered in the ditches, rendering the rest of the land bare.

Mud barriers segmented the space into uneven sections, each turned over at least once by plowing.

Green Sparrow Tribe members toiled in these sections, mainly smoothing and perfecting the furrowed earth.

Those farther out kept plowing the still-unfinished enclosed areas.

After watching briefly, Han Cheng gripped his go-to bronze shovel and, alongside the second elder brother, exited the yard toward the readied fields.

He summoned seven or eight folks, urging them to halt their tasks, and guided them to the already tilled ground.

With quick directives, the group set to labor.

Barriers around the water-channel-adjacent paddies were breached, and narrow channels dug to channel water from the primary ones into the plots.

Following the digging, water streamed into the fields, saturating the sections via the barrier gaps.

The once-arid ground slowly moistened, and steadily, larger areas grew sodden.

A handful of nearly see-through tiny fish entered with the flow into the paddies.

Initially confined, they relaxed as water deepened, flicking small tails over the silted bed.

Through Han Cheng and the team's work, additional barriers opened, letting fresh water eagerly rush into the fields.

Gradually, the barren land shifted back to flooded paddies.

In the fresh-wet fields, small bubbles now and then surfaced, quivering.

From Jinguan City's inner yard, sunlight danced on the water, turning it into gleaming, reflective sheets.

The rice grains in the wicker baskets, mildly wet, now showed minuscule green sprouts. A few impatient ones had even formed slender roots.

These roots appeared pale and delicate, with tiny, downy rootlets.

Sprouted seeds no longer fit the soaking technique.

Han Cheng, assisted by several tribe mates, gently removed the budding seeds from the baskets and closely sowed them onto the warmed seedbed.

They tenderly blanketed the seedlings with a slim veil of powdered soil.

Soil applied, they irrigated once more.

As Han Cheng removed the ground-covering straw mats, he spotted seeds that had germinated and pierced the earth, displaying delicate shoots that delighted the eye.

Han Cheng grinned widely, joy surpassing even a dream featuring Mei.

These young plants fell short for full planting, yet witnessing progress boosted his assurance, so Han Cheng went back to the inner yard with the group, retrieved more rice from the storage pots, and soaked it for the upcoming major seedling effort.

Time slipped away amid the hectic labors, and the sun's zenith started veering north.

Eventually, breezes lost their chill, and sunbeams warmed the flesh.

Spring stirred not just unease but revival for all life—a prime time for seeding.

In Jinguan City's inner yard, Han Cheng wielded a hoe to till beside a built shelter.

He didn't complete the full area, merely fashioning three approximate fifty-centimeter circles in the shelter's three-side centers.

He crumbled the soil lumps finely, aerated further, mixed in fertilizer, then topped with more soil.

Next, Han Cheng drew seeds from his pocket and sowed three or four per circle.

These seeds were notably sizable, some retaining a sheer skin.

They consisted of gourd seeds Han Cheng acquired from the elder primitive woman.

Gourds offered immense utility, so the tribe ought to cultivate plenty.

Sprouted gourd seeds would vine up the shelter.

As foliage thickened, pale gourd blooms would appear, with gourds of assorted sizes dangling in the spaces.

Resting under the leafy canopy amid a soft wind for a brief sleep would bring utter contentment.

Should visions arise of shoeless gourd youngsters calling “Grandpa” repeatedly, delight would double.

Undoubtedly, such visions stayed Han Cheng's alone.

Post-shelter gourd planting, Han Cheng sowed additional ones in the yard exterior.

Jinguan City's east side held ample untapped spaces for vine sprawl.

Han Cheng withheld some gourd seeds to transport to the primary tribe.

Concluding that, he broadcast another seed variety close by.

These came from saved orange pits of fruits he'd consumed earlier. Most got tossed, but select ones awaited today's planting.

Jinguan City's climate warmed progressively each day. The Green Sparrow core tribe, Copper Mountain dwellings, and surrounding Qinling zones soon sensed spring's arrival too.

Treading fresh-thawed snow, Third Senior Brother bore tools, seeds, provisions, and the Qinling sub-tribe builders to the somewhat cultivated site there.

The pre-new-year structures endured unscathed—no squatters during absence.

Supplies stowed in Qinling, Third Senior Brother promptly rallied for field prep.

With rising temperatures, days flew by, always feeling behind on readiness. Spring sowing loomed near.

Thus, Third Senior Brother toiled hard, aiming to reclaim maximal land and sow extra crops pre-plowing.

Copper Mountain's ore-smelting furnaces for copper and tin fell quiet once more. Led by Shang, residents there geared up for spring fieldwork too.

The Green Sparrow Tribe mirrored this, rallying even greater numbers.

On certain plots, compact manure heaps, fist-dual sized, dotted the ground.

Gripping a bronze shovel, Hei Wa ladled manure and flung it about for uniform dispersal.

Numerous helpers joined him, yet Hei Wa appeared downcast.

Not from scorning fieldwork as a skilled potter and ceramist. In Green Sparrow, none belittled crop-growing efforts.

Save dire emergencies, even Han Cheng joined spring plowing and fall reaping.

Hei's low spirits stemmed not from agriculture but porcelain concerns.

Post-successful porcelain firing, the tribe thrilled at the stunning, ethereal wares.

As creator, Hei Wa buzzed with thrill, staying intensely focused for ages.

Owing to him and the ceramics crew, Green Sparrow amassed considerable porcelain stock.

As porcelain normalized, awe waned slightly, though appreciation lingered.

Yet Hei's gloom arose not from internal views but external responses to porcelain.

The Green Sparrow Alliance skipped dedicated trade parties for outer groups; those groups arrived straight for swaps like salt and supple pelts.

This spared Green Sparrow manpower and dodged journey perils—visitors just delivered wares to Green Sparrow.

Annually post-thaw, various groups traded, and this year followed suit.

Hei Wa anticipated swapping fresh porcelain for outsider goods keenly.

Even pottery traded well; porcelain, vastly finer, promised richer hauls.

True to form, outsiders gaped at porcelain, eyes glued in wonder.

When Han Cheng's group proposed trading porcelain for edibles or hides, Hei Wa spotted the gleam of eagerness and longing in their gazes—but subsequent events wildly surpassed his forecasts…