Gardenia was a truly remarkable plant.
When its white flowers bloomed, their sweet fragrance could spread far and wide, rivaling even osmanthus.
And compared to the tiny osmanthus flowers, the large gardenia blossoms were much more visually appealing.
After the flowers bloomed, the gardenia fruits that followed could be used to brew a pleasant tea.
But for Han Cheng, none of this mattered right now.
The most important thing was that gardenia was an excellent natural dye.
Simply breaking open two or three gardenia fruits and tossing them into a pot of boiling water would instantly turn the entire pot yellow.
With more gardenia added, the color would become even richer.
The linen fabrics woven in the tribe had already begun to be dyed in colors other than the dull gray-brown obtained from smelly swamp mud. Now, there was also the bright yellow from gardenia water.
It all started when she accidentally spilled gardenia tea onto her freshly made undyed linen dress.
The yellowish liquid left tiny, scattered stains on the fabric.
Like everyone, Green Grass loved beauty. Wearing her brand-new clothes made her so happy that she walked more carefully, afraid of getting them dirty.
So, when she saw those stains, she was heartbroken.
She rushed back home, took off the dress, and scrubbed it furiously with water—only to find that the yellow stains wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard she washed.
When she nearly bore a hole in the fabric from scrubbing, the stains were still there.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at her ruined dress.
But then, an idea struck her.
She boiled an even larger batch of gardenia water and soaked the entire dress, letting it absorb the color evenly.
The first beautifully dyed garment in the history of the Green Sparrow Tribe was born.
As soon as people saw it, they immediately followed suit.
For a while, the entire tribe was covered in yellow clothing.
Sometimes, misfortune wasn’t indeed misfortune. Many discoveries happened by accident.
Nature was generous. It provided everything one needed—the key was to notice and use its gifts.
This era was still rich with undiscovered plant and animal resources compared to later generations. Even though Han Cheng led the tribe to clear large tracts of land for farming, this barely diminished the natural abundance around them.
That came from a specific type of vine.
This vine was naturally red, and when its bark was peeled and soaked in water, the liquid quickly turned a deep crimson.
Because of this characteristic, Han Cheng named it Red Vine.
He now had all three primary colors: Indigo, Gardenia, and Red Vine.
These plants had been discovered over a year ago, so the tribe had wisely stored plenty of them.
Even though spring had just arrived and many plants hadn’t yet sprouted, there was no need to worry—Han Cheng had all the materials he needed.
After several trips back and forth, three large clay pots were set up in the courtyard.
Each pot was filled with water, which soaked the Red Vine bark, Gardenia fruits, and Indigo leaves.
A fire roared beneath the pots, and the pigments leached rapidly into the liquid as the water heated.
Worried that the color might be too weak, Han Cheng let the water boil until only about a quarter of the original amount remained.
Finally, he took out a brush and some paper, dipped it into the concentrated dyes, and tested them.
The colors weren’t pure, but they were more than good enough.
Han Cheng grabbed three spoons and a few small bowls.
He scooped some red pigment into a bowl, then added some blue, stirring them together—watching as the colors merged into a deep green.
Next, he added a bit of yellow. The green darkened and eventually turned black.
Even though he already knew, in theory, that mixing pigments would create new colors, seeing it happen with his own hands still felt magical.
For a while, he couldn’t resist experimenting, scooping up different combinations of pigments, and watching the transformations.
After a few minutes of this, he decided to get serious.
He found a small brush and several clean, full-sized brushes and began keeping records.
Whenever he mixed a new color, he carefully noted the pigments he used and the proportions.
Then, with a clean brush, he painted a swatch of the newly created color next to his notes.
Years of living here had taught him the importance of record-keeping.
It wasn’t about being overly studious—it was simply that without detailed notes, there was no way to refine and perfect his work.
Just as he was carefully painting another sample onto his notes—
"Di... Divine Child…"
A voice suddenly called from behind him.
Han Cheng flinched so hard that his brush nearly slipped from his fingers.
He turned around sharply—only to see Shaman.
The shaman had been standing silently behind him for who knew how long.
Shouldn’t you be catching rats or something?
Why are you sneaking up on people and scaring them instead?!
Still recovering from the shock, Han Cheng grumbled inwardly.
But Shaman didn’t seem to notice Han Cheng’s inner complaints.
His eyes were utterly locked onto the pigments and their shifting colors, his expression frozen between awe and disbelief.
"Divine Child… this… this…"
Shaman pointed at the bowls of pigments, his voice trembling with astonishment.
Seeing the old man’s reaction, Han Cheng decided to be magnanimous.
Besides the sheer fun of messing with an elder, the thrill of baffling an ancient shaman was exhilarating.
"Ahem. Oh, this?" Han Cheng waved his hand dismissively. "Just a small trick. Nothing worth mentioning…"
Of course, he was still fascinated by the color transformations.
But that didn’t stop him from putting on an air of complete nonchalance.
As if this kind of thing was barely worth his attention.
Shaman, being the straightforward type, completely fell for the act.
To him, this color-mixing was already a near-miraculous phenomenon.
And yet, Divine Child treated it as a triviality?
The gap between them was overwhelming!
Shaman’s admiration for Han Cheng swelled like an unending river.
Han Cheng was shamelessly basking in his moment of glory and thoroughly enjoyed himself.
But after a while, he decided to stop tormenting the old man.
He handed Shaman a spoon and stepped back, giving instructions while letting Shaman take over the mixing.
Shaman, enthralled, followed his directions eagerly.
Pouring one color into another—watching in wonder as entirely new hues emerged.
The sheer magic of it all had him utterly captivated.
By the time Han Cheng remembered what he was supposed to be doing—
The entire supply of red, yellow, and blue pigment had been ultimately used up.