Chapter 24: Please Put On Your Leather Pants
That night, the clansmen argued for a long time around the fire, their quarrel lasting until midnight.
The new way of life was inevitably clashing with old ideas, and the dispute centered on a proposal made by Chen Jian.
Chen Jian had explained that he wanted to take some pottery bowls and pots to the other tribes the next day—not just a few, but a significant amount.
The first to object was Acorn, the cousin in charge of firing the pottery. He stood up and shouted, "We made this pottery piece by piece! We dug the clay and cut the wood. Why should we just give it away to others? If they want it, they should have to trade something for it!"
Although the clansmen didn't fully grasp the relationship between labor and value, they felt Acorn's words were reasonable. Giving away a few as gifts was one thing, but Chen Jian was asking them to bring a large quantity. They already had plenty of their own clay pots and bowls; even the unused ones looked nice sitting on the windowsills. Why give them to others?
Chen Jian waited until Acorn finished before standing up. "But what would we trade for?"
"Bacon, salt, dried fish, whatever," Acorn said without a second thought.
The clansmen murmured in agreement, but then Langpi stood up. "Before Chen Jian received the guidance of our ancestors, what were our lives like? Forget dried bacon and fish—we had to chew on the bones! What could those tribes possibly trade with us? Bone scraps?"
Song Ye also stood to support Chen Jian. He remembered his previous life, how the days of despair and death were gone forever. But he knew that before joining this tribe, their current abundance was an impossible dream for others.
The words of the two men silenced the noisy crowd. Recalling their past lives, they knew that if it weren't for Chen Jian, they wouldn't have so much surplus food. It was just that their lives had become so comfortable they had started to take sufficient food for granted.
Chen Jian didn't try to explain the principles of commodity exchange. Instead, he picked up a nearby wicker fishing basket.
"Before the rains, we used these baskets to catch fish for the last time. Lancao was reluctant to use her meat for bait, feeding it instead to the wolf cubs that follow her all day. So her baskets were empty, while everyone else's were full."
The clansmen burst into laughter. A blushing Lancao lowered her head and pouted, shyly kicking away a wolf cub playing at her feet.
Chen Jian continued, "Without bait, fish won't enter the basket. It's the same principle here. Of course, we want to trade. We made these things with our own hands. But if other tribes don't know about pottery, how would they know its value? Before we had clay pots, everyone survived, didn't they? But if all your pots and bowls broke right now, would you be used to living without them?"
The tribe fell silent for a moment. In the past, they had to go to the stream to drink, but now they just had to reach for a clay pot. In the past, they could only roast their prey until it was burnt and tough, with the worst parts being inedible. Now, they could boil their food. And there were countless other uses, like storing salt.
They had come to see all this as natural, but upon reflection, they realized these inconspicuous items were quietly changing every aspect of their lives. It was like the wind after the snow melts, which turns the earth green without anyone noticing.
Gradually, the clansmen understood Chen Jian's point and came to approve his proposal.
The old grandmother suddenly recalled standing on the mountaintop the day before, looking down at the rainbow and the village. The view from the peak was completely different from the view on the ground. Jian's thoughts were like the view from a mountaintop, while hers were like standing beside a single house, seeing only the earthen wall in front of her, unable to appreciate the grandeur of thirteen houses lined up in a row.
The argument was over, and the clansmen went back to sleep on the warm, heated beds. The old grandmother's sleeping spot on the kang was covered with a thick, flat layer of fur, making it very warm. In the past, her legs would often cramp from the cold at night, but she hadn't felt that pain in a long time.
All of this, she thought, came from Jian. After Chen Jian created the pottery, she had planned to teach him all the wisdom passed down from her ancestors, so that their knowledge would not be lost after her death and he could lead the tribe to survive.
But seeing the village under the rainbow yesterday had shaken her heart.
She was proud and happy, but she also sadly realized that her wisdom was old, unable to guide this new era.
It was time for an old, decaying tree to fall and give the saplings below more sun and rain so they could grow—because those young saplings were her descendants. She no longer wanted to be the tallest tree; she just wanted her saplings to cover the entire land.
"After this tribal meeting is over," she thought silently, "it will be time for me to propose that Jian take my place. The children will agree."
The heat from the kang warmed her legs, a comfortable and reassuring feeling, and she slowly drifted off to sleep.
***
In the morning, the clansmen had everything prepared.
Each person carried a wicker basket filled with clay pots and bowls, cushioned with grass blades to prevent them from breaking. They also brought dried fish and bacon.
The men were armed with bows and quivers made of bark. They held stone spears and axes, many of which were now drilled through, making them much sturdier than the old ones tied with ropes.
The elderly, children, and women who were breastfeeding stayed behind to look after the homestead and the animals.
Yu Qian'er screamed that she wanted to go, but her mother grabbed her by her braid and scolded her back into the house, leaving the little girl in tears.
The clansmen said their goodbyes and headed down the hill, walking toward the distant mountains. The journey was long, and weighed down with their loads, it would take them two days.
The scout, Wolf, ranged ahead of the group to hunt. He returned without any prey but howled from a distance.
"There are people from two tribes arguing up ahead!"
He was clearly in the mood to watch the excitement, his face full of glee. The clansmen rarely encountered such drama, so they quickened their pace, following close behind him.
Before they could see anyone, they heard the sounds of shouting and cursing drifting through the trees and tall grass.
Everyone pushed aside the grass to see two tribes facing off. When they spotted Chen Jian's group, they fell silent and watched them warily.
To the two tribes, the newcomers' hair was bizarre. The women's hair was braided into two long ropes that hung down their backs, while the men's was coiled into a topknot and secured with a small wooden pin.
The person at the front held a pole, and from it flew something they had never seen before—a banner painted with a black and white circle that snapped in the wind, carrying an indescribable mystique.
The young men carried quivers on their backs and held bows in their hands—weapons shaped like a crescent moon with a string stretched across.
The only things they recognized were the stone axes and spears, but even those were different. Their axes had holes drilled through them instead of being tied on with ropes.
The elders of the two tribes looked closer and recognized the old grandmother and several other older members of her group, their hearts filled with surprise. The last time the tribes had gathered, this group looked just like them. How had they changed so much?
Though strange, their hairstyles looked good, far smoother than their own matted, hay-like hair.
The old grandmother stepped forward to greet them.
Chen Jian stood behind her, observing the two tribes. There weren't many of them—men, women, and children all included, their total number was less than a hundred, and they were all filthy.
Between the two confronting clans lay a dead stag. Several men from each side held stone spears, facing each other down. Some already had bloodstains on their bodies.
The leaders of the two tribes stepped forward to greet the old grandmother. She called Chen Jian over and introduced him to them.
"This is Shitou. Her clan lives on the mountain upstream of the Tao River. And this is Huaihua. Her mother brought her people here for the last gathering."
Hearing this, Huaihua said in a low voice, "My mother is dead. A snake bit her a few days ago." She sniffled a few times, then looked at Chen Jian with the same curiosity as Shitou.
This was a simple ceremony, but it carried great meaning. A clansman introduced to other leaders in this manner was the designated successor. Although the clan's approval was still required, the old leader's suggestion was rarely refuted.
The first thought of both chiefs was how young he was—and that he was a man. Could someone like that lead a tribe well? If a man became the leader, how would the bloodline of future generations be traced? Did this tribe intend to start mating within their own clan?
Chen Jian imitated the old grandmother, extending his hands to touch theirs as a sign of friendship, while covertly assessing the two tribes. Shitou's tribe was larger. Huaihua's tribe seemed to have suffered some disaster; there were only about twenty or thirty men, women, and children, all of them thin and dark-skinned.
After the greeting, Chen Jian stood beside the old grandmother.
Huaihua wiped the tears from her face and shouted, "Your tribe has come just in time to judge! Our tribe caught this deer, but Shitou's people say they chased it first, and they beat our clansmen!"
Not to be outdone, a man from the Stone tribe yelled back angrily, "We chased this deer for a long time until it was exhausted! How is it yours?"
"You say you chased it, but I don't believe it! What I saw was our tribe chasing it down!"
At the mention of the dispute, the two sides began to shove each other again. Several women grabbed at each other's hair, screaming curses.
Seeing the situation was about to spiral out of control, Chen Jian's people stood by, watching with amusement. They considered themselves lucky; the days of fighting over a single deer were long behind them.
Chen Jian returned to his clansmen. "Just like when we were tamping the earth walls," he said, "let's shout together and quiet them down."
The clansmen stood together loosely, but as Chen Jian waved his hand, they roared in unison, slamming the butts of their wooden spears hard onto the ground. This was a habit from their recent construction. When four men lifted a tamping stone, they had to coordinate their swing, letting out a shout with every impact.
It was the same this time. Seventy or eighty young men let out a deep "Hah!" in unison. The sound was like the howling of tigers and wolves, but with an unnerving discipline that made one's heart pound.
The confrontational tribesmen froze, subconsciously tightening their grips on their spears. Children, startled by the roar, began to cry loudly, and the women hid behind their men. Although Chen Jian's clansmen stood in a relaxed formation, their shout carried an air of order and power. The two other tribes had never seen anything like it and dared not make another sound.
Huaihua looked at her own thin, weak clansmen and felt a jolt of fear at the roar. *Do these people also want to snatch the deer? No! Many of my people haven't eaten meat in days…* She was young and had only just become leader, but now she had to fight for her clan's interests.
The shout from dozens of men was terrifying, and their drilled stone axes and spears were intimidating, but she still stood tall before Chen Jian. Her eyes darted around as an idea formed. "What? Do you want to snatch this deer too? Fine! Side with us, help us drive that Shitou away, and half the deer is yours!"
Shitou and her clansmen were also taken aback. That shout had been deeply unsettling, reminding them of a wolf pack on a full moon night, only more organized. If this group really sided with Huaihua, their own clan would be no match. They would have to leave.
But Chen Jian's people just burst out laughing.
Wolfpi slapped his belly with one hand and pointed at the deer with the other. "We don't want it! The day before yesterday, Jian told us a story at dinner. A dragonfly caught a fly, and just then, a falcon flew overhead. The dragonfly buzzed its wings frantically, terrified the falcon would steal its tiny meal. Aren't you two just like that dragonfly? Hahaha…"
Wolfpi's story made Shitou's face flush with anger. She snorted and retreated into the midst of her tribe.
Huaihua, however, thought for a moment and then smiled. "You are all falcons, and we are dragonflies. That's right. But only a dragonfly can catch a fly. How could a falcon? Therefore, this deer belongs to us."
Hearing Huaihua's words, Shitou's people cursed and moved to protect the deer.
Chen Jian glanced at Huaihua, thinking to himself that she was a person who knew how to bend and adapt.
The group started arguing again, which gave Chen Jian an idea.
He walked up to the deer and addressed both tribes. "I have something to say, please listen. You both claim you caught this deer. You could argue until the deer rots and stinks, and you still wouldn't have an answer. Let's say you spotted it at the same time. Then whoever ran the fastest would own it, right?"
"That's right! But even if we did find it together, we caught it first!"
"We caught it first!"
The two sides started bickering again. Wolfpi saw this and, along with the other clansmen, let out another synchronized shout: "Hah!"
The two groups fell silent again. Chen Jian continued, "How about this: each of you chooses the best hunter in your clan. They will race from here to that tree. Whoever gets there first owns the deer. Otherwise, what result will all this noise bring? If you fight, your people will get hurt or killed, and that's no good for anyone."
Both sides had maintained restraint precisely because they feared their clansmen would be injured, weakening them. Once a fight started, it would create a blood feud. Many tribes had become enemies over small incidents and eventually disappeared. This young man named Jian had proposed an acceptable method, one that seemed reasonable.
Shitou glanced at her clansmen, then at the gaunt members of Huaihua's tribe. Seeing her own people eager to compete, she said, "Fine! Squirrel, you go and race them!"
Huaihua glanced at Chen Jian, thinking this was a good outcome for her tribe. They were outnumbered, and if a real fight broke out, the Stone tribe would surely drive them off. She chose a man named Civet Cat.
Squirrel glared at Civet Cat, cursing inwardly. Chen Jian looked at Civet Cat's thin frame and wondered if Huaihua had some ulterior motive.
The tree he pointed to was about fifty or sixty meters away. The two men threw down their stone spears. Civet Cat, however, wasn't satisfied with just dropping his spear. Without a word, he stripped off his leather pants and tossed them to the ground, wanting to be as light as possible.
The clansmen snorted with amusement, while a few young women peeked through their fingers.
Chen Jian said with a stern face, "Please put your pants back on. If we have disputes like this in the future, no one is allowed to take them off!"
The two runners stood side by side again. Their clan members shouted encouragement, and Chen Jian's people also gathered around to watch.
This kind of competition, a sport beyond mere hunting and survival, possessed a natural beauty that was especially captivating to the primitive tribes.
This was also part of Chen Jian's future plans. Exercise was naturally beneficial. It could not only promote inter-tribal communication but also serve as daily training. In the future, he could add archery, running, javelin, spear-throwing, and wrestling. Later, there might even be chariot fighting, tripod lifting, swordsmanship, and formation marching. He envisioned these sports not just as a grand gathering for the tribes but also as a form of military training.
Civilization and martial prowess should complement each other; work and leisure should be in balance. Spring outings, autumn reflections, scholars in green robes, and poems on bamboo slips were all necessary for a culture, but so were frontier songs in the snow, flashing swords, and the strength of bulging muscles.
His only concern was keeping everyone clothed. He had to make sure the Primitive Games didn't become a breeding ground for a culture of homosexuality. He didn't want to create a version of the Sacred Band of Thebes, where watching muscular men compete in the nude every day gave rise to a philosophy where romantic love between the sexes was seen as merely for reproduction. That would be a grave mistake.
In comparison, he would much rather his clansmen applaud a group of brawny men wrestling. He would never want the distorted aesthetics that came to praise sickly frailty over health or celebrate the deformity of bound feet.