n I am a Primitive Man
The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting in colorful halos refracted by dewdrops hanging beneath the leaves.
Without wind, a few yellowed leaves silently drifted from the branches, spiraling down to rest on Xiao Fu's head beneath the trees.
Shaking its head, Xiao Fu dislodged the mischievous leaf and then glanced around at the other wolves nearby.
The ground was damp from yesterday's constant rain.
Xiao Fu, whose fur was still damp from the rain, appeared even darker.
Two female wolves were in heat consecutively within this wolf pack. Being young and vigorous, Xiao Fu naturally had an undeniable responsibility.
After several consecutive days, Xiao Fu had adapted to this new lifestyle.
During these days, Xiao Fu enjoyed a carefree existence. If its head itched, it could wash it anytime; if tired from washing, it could roam with the wolf pack, hunt some prey, and rest for a while...
Back then, it had to accept leadership from a deer; besides the deer, Fu Jiang could also control him.
The most brutal thing was the owner, who liked to kick his buttocks for no reason...
Of course, that was just the thought of Xiao Fu, who had just joined the wolf pack. When it saw the flowery look, it remembered where it had lived since childhood.
He wanted to go back, as this was not his permanent residence.
Another leaf fell and lay close to Xiao Fu. After looking at it, Xiao Fu turned and left.
The mother wolf stood idly or played with it, and after spending time together, they ultimately accepted the new strong young head wolf.
"Shaman Shaman......"
After walking for a while, Xiao Fu saw the situation behind him, stopped, turned back, and shouted at the wolves to stop following him.
However, this small group of wolves had already identified it. After repeated reminders, they still followed it left and right.
After a few unsuccessful attempts, Xiao Fu stopped driving away and walked away with them...
In the orchard not far from the Green Sparrow tribe, laughter and laughter filled the air. Even though the temperature was a bit cold due to the rain, it couldn't reduce the joy in their hearts.
The shaman held a small basket, constantly picking up fallen fruit. After filling it, he poured the fruit into another large gourd head.
After being brought back, these fallen fruits can be selected. The better quality is stripped and used to make wine vinegar and fruit preserves, while the poor quality is used to feed rabbits and wild boars.
Anyway, it cannot be squandered.
But compared with previous years, few fallen fruits are on the ground. On the one hand, because the use of fruits has increased, they have received significant attention from the tribe's people, and they will no longer allow some to survive on their own as in previous years.
Even now, Shaman found it quite miraculous, although he vaguely sensed some reasons behind it.
Previously, although the fruit trees bloomed profusely, many of the fruits that started to grow would prematurely fall off or wither on the trees.
This pattern of growth and loss meant that by the time the fruits matured, there were far fewer left on the trees.
This year, however, was different. Initially, due to the vigorous pruning by the Divine Child, after the flowers bloomed, the number of small fruits left on the trees was much lower compared to previous years at the same time. However, very few of these fruits fell off prematurely.
This situation continued until now, resulting in a scene of abundant harvest!
Shaman bent down to pick up a freshly fallen fruit. There was a spot where a bird had pecked at it, but Shaman didn't mind; he wiped it with his hand and popped it into his mouth.
By now, when the fruits were plentifully ripe, those pecked by birds were mature and highly delicious.
Eating the fruit, Shaman watched with delight as the bustling crowd picked numerous fruits and put them into large gourds.
The scenes of harvest and joy were never enough for him.
As he watched, his thoughts involuntarily turned to the Divine Child.
Although he had long revered the Divine Child, Shaman still wanted to praise the Divine Child vigorously...
In the tribe, steam rose from the raised clay pot, and many cleaned and sun-dried jars were placed nearby.
A sweet and rich aroma permeated the air. As a chef, Han Cheng stood there with a spoon in his hand, occasionally lifting the pot lid to check the progress inside.
Seeing that the fruits in one clay pot were already cooked, Han Cheng instructed the people around him.
He then picked up a large spoon and scooped up a spoonful of the still bubbling fruit, directly pouring it into a jar.
In just a few scoops, a jar was already filled.
He urged, and the person beside him quickly covered the jar's mouth with a large oily tree leaf in his hand.
After applying beeswax around the jar's mouth, he pressed down, sealing it tightly without letting any air in.
After waiting a while, the leaf covering the jar's mouth suddenly collapsed inward, tightly adhering to it.
Upon seeing this reaction, Han Cheng froze for a moment and then broke into a smile. It seemed that this batch of fruit preserves would be successful!
Han Cheng has gradually explored and improved methods for making fruit preserves.
He would not let things like 'making vinegar in a wine barrel and sour in a jar' happen to him. Despite his background in liberal arts, living in the modern era, he had some knowledge about bacterial decomposition and sterilization through high temperatures.
After turning preserves into wine, he carefully recalled the process and was able to pinpoint where things might have gone wrong.
After making targeted modifications, today's success came.
After Han Cheng's joy, he sped up his movements and continued filling fruit preserves.
After a while of such busy work, there was a commotion at the courtyard entrance. Han Cheng quickly turned to look.