Encouraged by Han Cheng's praise, Mu Tou energetically gathered all the rapeseed into a large pile. Holding a broom, he began to sweep back and forth, creating a breeze that blew away the fine impurities on top of the rapeseed pile.
Motivated by the compliments, Mu Tou was hopeful to receive more praise from Han Cheng. He remembered vividly that Han Cheng did it last year.
The small impurities on the large rapeseed pile quickly disappeared, leaving only clean rapeseed.
Thinking he had done a good job, Mu Tou felt accomplished, having cleaned so much in one go.
However, his sense of accomplishment was soon replaced by a furrowed brow because Han Cheng walked over and casually raked a section of the clean rapeseeds, revealing more impurities.
Mu Tou hurriedly used the broom to sweep them away.
This time, he learned quickly. Before Han Cheng could intervene, Mu Tou took the initiative to rake a section, only to find more dirt underneath the seemingly clean rapeseeds.
Mu Tou, who rarely spoke, looked at Han Cheng pleadingly. He was good at grinding stones, but when it came to pressing rapeseed, something unfamiliar to him, he felt a bit helpless. After all, unknown things tended to cause panic and unease.
Han Cheng walked to the entrance and felt the cool breeze of early summer. He beckoned to Mu Tou, who was still sweeping the rapeseeds, to come over and clean the area under the gate.
After finishing the cleaning, Mu Tou looked at Han Cheng, hoping to learn a new solution from him.
Just now, Han Cheng had sent Qi Qiu to get clay pots, and now, holding two pots in his hands, he walked towards them.
He placed the pots on the ground and then looked at Mu Tou. Han Cheng wanted to see how Mu Tou thought he would use these seemingly unrelated items to clean the rapeseeds.
Not making them wait for long, Han Cheng, with a not-too-large pot, scooped half a pot of rapeseed mixed with impurities. He walked to the gate, positioned himself sideways to let the wind pass, and started tilting the pot.
The rapeseeds inside formed a fine line as they slid down and fell onto the ground. The impurities, without any weight, were blown away by the wind, ensuring that only clean rapeseeds remained.
Initially, the rapeseeds bounced and rolled around as they fell, but as they accumulated into a round bread-like shape on the ground, they could no longer roll far.
Mu Tou and Qi Qiu watched this magical scene with admiration and a sense of enlightenment.
Mu Tou crouched down, carefully using his hands to pick up some rapeseed from the pile under Han Cheng's feet. Even the ones turned over were spotless.
Han Cheng, observing Mu Tou and Qi Qiu standing on either side of the gate, shook his head slightly.
It wasn't that they did a bad job. Rather, using a sieve would be more convenient and efficient, especially with no wind.
However, the current Green Sparrow Tribe couldn't produce a decent sieve due to a lack of suitable materials.
Tree branches could indeed substitute for bamboo to weave many things, but a sieve required a more refined mesh, something beyond the capability of tree branches.
If it were chopped into very fine pieces, it lacked the flexibility of bamboo and would easily break with a slight bend. There was simply no way to weave it.
The current amount of cultivated crops in the tribe was scarce, and the current method could still be used as a makeshift solution. However, if the cultivated crops increased in the future, relying on the current method would be inadequate.
Han Cheng sighed deeply. There was too much to do, and now bamboo had to be added to the list in his notebook.
As the setting sun was about to dip below the horizon, the pile of rapeseed was finally processed. Clean and dry, it amounted to slightly over 60 kg.
Ideally, it shouldn't have taken until now, but the wind was too unpredictable—coming and going intermittently.
Mu Tou transported the cleaned rapeseeds back to the cave, filling a large jar with nearly half its capacity.
Han Cheng estimated the yield and couldn't help but shake his head. This one-acre plot would produce around 50 kg. This was just the freshly harvested wet rapeseeds; if dried, It might not even reach 35 kg.
With the expansion of cultivation in the future, this yield would further decrease. They couldn't catch up with the current meticulous care, especially regarding fertilizer application, when the production expanded.
Han Cheng felt melancholic, but Shaman was exceptionally happy. He grinned widely as he looked at the pile of rapeseeds in the jar.
Of course, he was delighted. Last year, Divine Child only planted one pot of rapeseeds, yet the tribe had such a large field of rapeseeds. From last year until now, they have never run out.
If they planted all these rapeseeds this year, Shaman couldn't imagine how many rapeseeds his tribe would have by harvest time.
Observing the jubilant Shaman, Han Cheng couldn't help but sniffle. In a contemporary setting, farmers would be worried about their harvest, especially when they couldn't make enough money for pesticides and fertilizers.
Han Cheng chuckled at his thoughts. He couldn't keep comparing the present with the future. The current yield was already good, considering the lack of advanced technology, pesticides, fertilizers, and improved crop varieties.
"Take it slow," Han Cheng said to himself. After all, a system didn't force him to establish any civilization. He didn't harbor ambitions of conquering multiple primitive tribes to unify the world. He simply wanted to make his own life and the lives of his tribe better.
Thinking about it, Han Cheng exhaled and told himself that heaven had been kind to him. After all, he didn't end up in a cannibalistic tribe upon arrival. Otherwise, given his initial state, he might have ended up inside some plant by now.
Hei Wa didn't participate in harvesting rapeseed or building the wall. He had other tasks to handle.
As the warm sunlight spread across the ground, the small river flowed gently, reflecting the sunlight and appearing glittering.
Fish played in the water, and a few of them were visible.
A red dragonfly hovered over the area, seemingly flying effortlessly with wings that couldn't be seen moving.
When it got tired, it landed motionless on a dried stem sticking out of the grass at the riverbank.
Unfortunately, no lotus roots were seen. If they were there, Han Cheng would have recited a line from a famous poem: "The little lotus has just revealed its pointed tip, and a dragonfly has already landed on it." This would have been much earlier than the poet Yang Wanli, who wrote this poem, lived.
This was much more impressive than your average historical transmigrator.
The riverbank wasn't all flat; there were small hills present. On a small hill closest to the tribe, a wisp of smoke rose, and Hei Wa was busy there.