Chapter 135: Fragrance 2
Han Cheng lifted the softened fur pants and wrapped them around his body. Despite the early summer, the morning air still carried a chill, making it necessary to take precautions for warmth.
With his petite frame, Han Cheng naturally couldn't compare to his senior brothers working shirtless while compacting the soil.
As the weather grew hotter each day, Han Cheng began adjusting the labor schedule of the Green Sparrow Tribe. Mornings started a bit earlier, and they would immediately start building the wall after washing up.
While some worked on raising the wall, those responsible for cooking in the tribe started preparing meals with the food gathered by the Eldest Senior Brother and his men.
After about an hour of labor, they would break for a meal using the pre-prepared food. This way, they could endure less of the scorching heat and rest more during mealtime.
Starting early in the morning allowed them a longer break, around noon. The midday break would gradually extend as the days grew longer and hotter.
Han Cheng's intention wasn't to overwork the laborers. Unlike Zhou Papi, who crowed like a rooster and woke up earlier than chickens, Han Cheng did all this to make life in the tribe safer and more comfortable without rushing too much.
One needs to move forward in life, but one should not only focus on rushing forward. While on the journey, occasionally pausing to admire the scenery is necessary. Otherwise, when looking back in old age, there might be regrets.
In any case, Han Cheng had returned to primitive times and no longer needed to worry about houses, cars, or wives every day. Slowing down a bit and enjoying a more leisurely life seemed reasonable. After ridiculing the busyness of the future Han Cheng, who couldn't sleep or eat, he soon realized that he seemed to need to worry about houses, cars, and wives.
The house was under construction, and the car wasn't needed yet, so temporarily, there was no need to worry. However, a wife was a big problem.
Thinking of the generally sturdy-looking women of the primitive era and recalling the grand celebration, Han Cheng's face turned bitter. It was a real dilemma. Without a house, he could build one; without a car, he could slowly build one. But a wife couldn't be built slowly by himself.
Han Cheng, Hei Wa, and the assistant left the kiln together. The tiles were not too large, measuring fifteen centimeters in length and between ten and twelve centimeters in width. Each tile weighed around 300 grams, and Han Cheng could carry about ten tiles simultaneously.
The newly fired tiles had a layer of fine ash on top. Wiping it away with their hands revealed the true color of the tiles, a deep black similar to the clay pots in the tribe, darker than the small tiles Han Cheng was accustomed to in later years.
Some pottery made from clay fired in different ways could be red, a color Han Cheng had not encountered yet. When he had some free time, he thought of asking Hei Wa to explore nearby areas for such clay. Finding it would add variety to the tribe's pottery, preventing the colors from being too monotonous.
Han Cheng sent a broken tile flying with a flick of his hand. It glided about ten meters before crashing onto a pile of damaged pottery, producing a few crisp sounds and shattering further.
Even broken pottery could be useful. They could be smashed with stones and added to the clay when making pottery again. This would result in sturdier pottery less likely to break during firing.
Han Cheng carried a stack of ten intact tiles to a nearby tile pile, adding them to the ones he had previously arranged. Then, he walked back to the kiln to transport more tiles.
Some necessary labor still needed to be done. Firstly, it provided a good workout, and secondly, it kept him from being too idle.
Initially, with many tiles inside the kiln, Han Cheng could reach in and take them out by himself while standing on a stone. However, as they continued moving tiles, the quantity inside decreased, and he had to receive the tiles from Hei Wa or his assistant.
Due to his small stature, even standing on a stone, he couldn't reach the tiles at the bottom.
After over a year in this place, Han Cheng had long accepted that his limbs were still small.
The kiln was filled with more than five hundred tiles this time. By now, they had produced over sixteen hundred well-fired tiles. Looking at this pile, Han Cheng felt even more eager for the upcoming house construction.
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