Chapter 11: The First Step to Change
After the first dinner of boiled and fried dishes was over, the tribe was introduced to a new chore, one that future generations would come to hate most: washing dishes.
Everyone was lazy and didn't want to move. The meal had been too filling. Lang Pi lay half-sprawled on the ground, rubbing his belly and humming contentedly.
Having never experienced this way of eating, the tribespeople's reverence for the guidance of the ancestors grew even stronger.
This was a tangible feeling, a delightful taste that still lingered on their tongues. It was not some illusory paradise after death, which made it far easier to believe in.
Of course, the meal was very unhealthy.
The fried tubers were one thing, but the fern root powder contained ptaquiloside, which is carcinogenic.
However, for a tribe whose average life expectancy was only thirty years, such concerns were meaningless.
The wilderness had not yet been conquered, and the prehistoric world was no paradise.
There was still a long way to go before hunger was completely eradicated, and improving the clan's lifespan would be a process that could take thousands of years.
Even in his previous life, when he had ruled an empire on which the sun never set, the average life expectancy was only forty years. Beneath the brilliance of that global power were the shadows of female factory workers with a life expectancy of three years on the job and countless child laborers crushed by machines.
Every candle casts a shadow. There is no brilliance in the world that is not built on something dark; there are only eyes that choose to see either the darkness or the light.
In the past year alone, seven or eight members of the clan had passed away, most of them dying in the struggle against nature.
Now, pottery had appeared, and the bone plow was taking shape. As long as their luck wasn't too bad, primitive agriculture would soon follow.
With the expansion and development of the tribe, the concept of private ownership and the competition for resources that accompanied civilization would replace the conflict with nature as the leading cause of death for future generations.
This idyllic life would eventually end, giving way to the glory and bloodshed of a new era.
Chen Jian knew that every invention, every bit of progress, would ultimately chip away at the simple harmony before him—the very harmony that countless sages would later romanticize as a golden age.
But he would not hesitate. This was the inevitable path of civilization; it could not be defied or halted.
So, while everyone else was still lounging on their animal skins, Chen Jian, unable to wait, called over Yu Qian'er, Lang Pi, and a few others he trusted and began to assemble the first potter's wheel he had designed.
The two large pottery bases had been fired perfectly. The lower parts were wide, standing stably on the flat ground, while the upper parts tapered into slender shafts.
Two flat, circular pottery discs, each with a small hole in the center, were fitted onto these shafts.
He found a fiber rope, tied its ends together, and looped it into the grooves carved on the sides of the two pottery wheels, forming a simple belt drive.
He inserted a stick into an off-center hole on one of the wheels, smeared some suet as grease where the wheels met the shafts, and, holding the stick, gave it a turn.
A creaking sound, sharp enough to set one's teeth on edge, filled the air, but the tribespeople watched it all with curiosity.
The spinning wheel pulled the rope, which in turn caused the other wheel to rotate as well. It was a simple belt drive, but it was fast and smooth.
With this rotating wheel, they could fashion pottery with very little effort that was impossible to make by hand. By lightly placing one's hands on a ball of clay to control its thickness, the centrifugal force would easily shape it into a vessel.
The only flaw was that the transmission rope was not made of leather. To get soft, elastic leather, one needed the lye that was a byproduct of producing salt from brine. Natural, untreated hides were too stiff and could only be properly softened after being treated.
Starting from scratch meant you had to try something before you realized what you needed, then solve each problem one by one. Progress could be halted by the lack of the most inconspicuous things.
Chen Jian gave the potter's wheel a few more forceful turns, feeling very satisfied.
Although the hole in the center of the upper wheel meant it couldn't be used directly, that wasn't a major problem.
He just needed to fire another solid disc tomorrow, place it over the shaft, and link it to the wheel below.
Then, they could put the mixed clay on top. With two people taking turns spinning the main wheel and one person shaping the clay by hand, there would be no problem.
The sight of the creaking, spinning potter's wheel seemed to set the tribe's own minds turning. Finally, Yu Qian'er walked up to Chen Jian and asked a question that could have been recorded in the annals of history.
"Why does it turn?"
Chen Jian didn't answer. Instead, he couldn't help but pull his little sister into a hug and laugh loudly, leaving Yu Qian'er completely bewildered.
Unable to get an answer, Yu Qian'er pondered that question for the next few days. After his daily hunt, Chen Jian would stand before the potter's wheel, thinking about other problems.
A few mornings later, Yu Qian'er woke up and was surprised to find her brother wasn't standing beside the potter's wheel.
The other clan members were still asleep, and amidst the familiar snores, the absence of her brother's presence felt strange.
She had been very happy these past few days. Except for the persistent question of why the wheel turned, everything was wonderful.
The little chicks were growing bigger day by day, and even the two weaker ones were gradually getting stronger. The children of the tribe adored the three chicks. One day it rained, but they still didn't forget to go outside to look for bugs for them.
The food had been excellent, too. She loved the fish soup, especially when her brother added some of the leaves he called "coriander." Sometimes her brother would make strange new foods just for himself, and she liked every single one. They were all things she had never seen before, but they were all delicious.
Her brother's new potter's wheel had also been completed yesterday, and he said that today he would teach the tribe a new way of making pottery.
She had also learned to count past ten from her brother and now knew that there were seventy-three people in the clan.
The only downside was that her brother rarely took her out to play these days. Every night, he would squat next to the fire, busy with something.
The evening before last, she and a few other children had helped her brother pile plant ash into a large clay pot and add clear water to it. The next day, he poured off the clarified water and began to heat it over the fire.
Last night, she had wanted to tell her brother that she had counted all seventy-three clan members. She ran to him excitedly, only to find him intensely focused, mixing the water from the plant ash with suet and stirring it constantly. He was too preoccupied to talk to her, so she had to walk away with a pout, feeling unhappy all night.
Not seeing her brother this morning made her feel a little down again. The hungry chirps of the chicks in the grass basket beside her roused her. She stood up to find some bugs for them, a task her brother had entrusted to her.
Just then, the sound of footsteps came from the cave entrance. Yu Qian'er ran over happily. As she reached the entrance, her brother playfully pinched her ear and led her toward the small river down the mountain, saying he wanted to wash her hair.
She had just learned the word "wash face" and had also learned to wash her hands. Every day before eating, her brother would lead the tribe to the river to wash their hands, so she easily understood what "wash hair" meant.
Her brother still had her ear, so she had to tilt her head and follow him down to the river, crying out in protest.
A translucent object, the color of a broken bird's egg, sat on a stone by the river.
Her brother finally let go. Yu Qian'er, forgetting her ear, reached out to pick up the strange, transparent thing. It looked delicious.
The day before yesterday, her brother had taken out solidified maple syrup and told the children that whoever learned to count to ten would get a piece. She, of course, was the first. She had never tasted anything so sweet.
This thing looked like maple syrup, too. She was just about to put it in her mouth when her brother slapped her hand away, and she quickly retracted it.
"I know, wash hands and face first," Yu Qian'er said with a smile. She dipped her hands in the river, splashed a little water on her face, and wiped it lightly.
Looking at her messy, tangled hair in her reflection, she didn't see anything wrong with it. Everyone else looked the same.
Her brother said her hair was very dirty. She glanced at him, who had spent the last few days constantly by the fire, and said with a grin, "You're dirty too."
So the brother and sister laughed together. Then, her brother wet her hair with water and began rubbing the delicious-looking thing into it.
There was a strange smell. Yu Qian'er tried to look at her hair, but a drop of murky water dripped from her bangs into her eye, causing a sharp, stinging pain.
"Brother, my eyes hurt!"
She had never felt such pain before. Tears streamed from her eyes, forcing them shut. She couldn't see anything.
As the tears washed her eyes, the stinging gradually subsided. She wiped them with the back of her river-dampened hand and finally opened them.
Her hair felt different. It was greasy, and it seemed as if something was gently bursting all over it, making a soft popping sound.
She reached up, touched it, and brought her hand in front of her eyes. She froze.
In her hands were countless white foams clustered together, constantly breaking apart in the gentle breeze.
Under the rising sun, the bubbles shone with a colorful luster, constantly shifting and reflecting a brilliance she had never seen before.
She remembered the colorful rainbow that appeared in the sky after the rain. How did the colors from the sky get into her hands?
"Brother, look! The rainbow is in my hands!"
She held her hand out to Chen Jian. He smiled and blew on it gently. The white foam scattered in the wind. Yu Qian'er tried to catch it, but it drifted away, falling into the river and slowly dissipating as it floated downstream.
Then, her brother lathered the creamy foam onto her face. Remembering the pain in her eyes, she squeezed them shut.
A pair of large hands massaged her face; they were rough but warm.
She felt a warmth in her heart, a very special feeling. She didn't yet know the word for it was "pampering."
Soon, cool water was splashed on her face. When she opened her eyes and saw her reflection in the water, she was so stunned she took a step back in fear. The person in the water didn't look like her at all.
Her complexion was no longer dark with grime; instead, it had a faint reddish undertone, like the fruits they ate when the leaves fell.
Her disheveled hair now shone with a black luster, like charcoal in the fire. It hung smoothly from her head, dripping water that created ripples in the river, distorting her reflection.
The translucent, delicious-looking thing lay on the rocks by the shore, most of it now used up.
"What is this?"
She didn't know, but she was certain her brother did.
"Soap."
Chen Jian told her the name of the object, then went ashore with it.
"Yu Qian'er, do you know what the ancestors I dream about look like?"
Yu Qian'er shook her head, unable to imagine.
"Their hair is clean, there is no dust on their faces, and their hair isn't messy. Do you want to be like them?"
"Yes!" Yu Qian'er nodded eagerly.
Chen Jian continued, "You have to study hard, and then teach your mother, your aunts, and the other girls. Do you understand?"
Sitting on a rock, Chen Jian parted Yu Qian'er's hair into two sections and tied them up with rope into two buns on either side of her head.
He was reminded of an old poem about childhood, about hair tied in twin knots. The beauty of clothing was *Hua*; the grandeur of rites was *Xia*. Even with their yellow skin and black eyes, without a cultural inheritance, they would only be a pale imitation.
The process would be long, but the first step had to be taken. The tribe already knew how to carve amulets; the foundation for appreciating beauty was there.
Furthermore, hairstyles could serve as a distinction between marriageable adults and minors, which would be very useful in the future. It wouldn't be difficult to establish a culture around it, a primitive version of a coming-of-age ceremony.
Besides, matted hair was a breeding ground for parasites, a major health problem. Combs hadn't appeared yet, so it seemed he would have to be the one to introduce another legendary invention in a few days. This was not just a matter of aesthetics, but also of hygiene.
Yu Qian'er, her hair in buns for the first time, felt it was heavy and uncomfortable. As soon as he was done, she hurried to the river's edge to look at her reflection.
Her hair was coiled into two buns, one on each side, with a short piece of rope hanging down from each. It looked much tidier than before.
"I'll teach you another one."
Chen Jian untied her hair. He considered a more complex style but thought it might be too troublesome. Instead, he braided her hair into two pigtails.
Yu Qian'er glanced at her reflection. Two black braids hung down on either side of her face, sleek and dark like little snakes.
"Have you learned how?"
"I've learned it! It's just like twisting rope. Brother, let me braid one for you."
Chen Jian quickly shook his head, thinking the image of himself with two braids was too ridiculous to contemplate.
He washed his own hair, then gathered it and tied it with a rope, breaking off a small stick from the riverbank to secure it.
He looked at his reflection in the water. He looked somewhat more refined, but it was a pity he was still wearing animal skins, which made the whole look rather incongruous.
The simple soap had a strange smell, but at least it could wash away the grease. With more than a decade's worth of accumulated oil and grime on his face lessened, he felt refreshed and clean.
Looking at his younger sister still standing by the shore, Chen Jian waved his hands. "Go and show your family how beautiful you look. Leave the soap on the stone inside the cave, and bring them to wash their hair."
"Okay!"
Yu Qian'er naturally touched the drooping braids with both hands, agreed happily, and ran bouncing toward the cave.
Watching the long shadow of her braids swaying on the ground as she ran, Yu Qian'er felt certain her family would love her new look. She couldn't help but touch the braids again, feeling more and more beautiful.
After running a few steps, a strange, unprecedented thought popped into her head.
*What if only I had braids? I would be the prettiest.*
She didn't know that this was a common desire deep within the human heart—the harmless wish to be different, to be envied. But somehow, she felt that this thought was just as wrong as wanting to hide food from the rest of the clan.
Startled by this novel idea, she nearly tripped over a stone. She staggered, her heart pounding.
"Be careful!" Chen Jian's worried cry came from behind. Yu Qian'er didn't answer. She pushed the fleeting thought from her mind and hurried back to the cave.
Chen Jian watched her run off, then looked up at the cloudless sky. The weather would be fine tomorrow. It was time to go out and explore the world beyond their valley.
He felt a sense of urgency, knowing that a sudden illness or an unexpected tragedy could interrupt a life at any moment.