Chapter 87: The Beginning of Turmoil

Driving away the bees, flies, and other insects that had followed the scent of honey all the way, Baifeng and the others hurried toward the tribe; honey was still dripping from the cart, but compared to what they had gained, that little bit lost was not worth mentioning.

As soon as they reached the tribe, the tribespeople were nearly frantic; they had all smelled the sweet scent drifting through the air. They could not get near the transport cart, but they could follow behind it, dipping their fingers into the honey that had fallen onto the ground.

Even though it was stuck with dirt, the mixture of the earthy smell and the sweetness did not bother them in the slightest. They jostled one another; the men driving the carts had already eaten plenty, the honey paste on their mouths had dried, and their hands were sticky.

Baifeng did not dare let them eat too much; eating too much at once could easily lead to diarrhea. If one were constipated, however, one could drink a bowl of honey water so thick it was cloying, which guaranteed perfect relief.

The Great Shaman had long been waiting with people and tools. The tool for extracting honey was a wooden barrel with a hole opened at the bottom, into which a bamboo tube was inserted to act as a faucet. They placed the honeycomb chunks inside, then used a wooden mallet to press down on them, and the honey flowed out naturally. Finally, they boiled the remaining impurities to make beeswax.

During the process of squeezing the honey, an unknown number of people gathered outside, just wanting to see how much honey could be produced. Every time the wooden mallet pressed down, the honey in the bamboo tube would spray out forcefully, but it was all caught by prepared vats, and not a drop was wasted.

The two carts of honey were pressed for the better part of the day, and it was nearly dark by the time they finished. They filled three vats as high as Baifeng's thighs. Baifeng had no way to weigh how much there was, but judging by how difficult it was for the tribespeople to carry them, Baifeng figured there must be about six hundred catties of honey.

After all, that beehive was truly spectacular; this time, Baifeng hadn't even taken one-tenth of it. Baifeng felt he could go back and harvest it once more before winter set in; harvesting in moderation would not affect their ability to survive the winter.

Where the carts had stopped, there was already a large puddle of honey on the ground. Fortunately, it was a cement floor, so it hadn't picked up much dirt. The tribespeople used bamboo slivers to scrape it bit by bit into their Pottery Bowls; after a rinse with water back home, they could drink it slowly.

It was just that the honey on the handcarts was not easy to clean; one couldn't exactly lie on the cart and lick it, but the cart was sticky, which made it inconvenient to load other things.

Baifeng instructed people to wash the carts well with water, but the water used for washing was not to be drunk; in the end, they should collect it and give it to the cattle—do not waste it.

The water in the Fish Pond had already cleared, so all the fish fry caught by the Fishing Team were released into the pond. It was the same water, so there was no need for acclimation; they would adapt regardless.

They hadn't caught many shrimp, crabs, loaches, or yellow eels, but they released a few of each. Pond snails were hardy and easy to raise, and they multiplied extremely quickly, so they poured in a few basins and let them expand on their own.

They planted reeds, Gujiao, and water weeds on the banks, and simply tossed in some duckweed. Lotus roots were not easy to plant right now, there was no silt at the bottom, and they hadn't dug up many; when the lotus seeds were ready, they could just throw those in.

Now that some of the tasks requiring mass mobilization were mostly done, everyone returned to their primary duties. No one complained about having too much food, so those who fished went fishing, and those who hunted went hunting.

Salt was now hauled directly by cart; one trip was enough for the tribe to use for several months. Baifeng had long since begun filtering and purifying the salt. Although the previous salt was quite white and had few impurities, after having Hemp Cloth, Baifeng still felt it was safer to filter it once.

After filtering it several times through Charcoal and Hemp Cloth, they extracted the first batch of the purest salt, then made a saturated brine. Future Salt Blocks would be washed with this saturated brine to obtain pure salt. By continuing this process, the salt used by the Baifeng tribe would all be clean, refined salt; even the salt used for pickling would be refined salt.

However, if he were to conduct trade in the future, Baifeng would certainly take the unrefined salt bricks; there was no need to waste that labor. In any case, as long as the wild people saw that the salt was white, they thought it was good, and they wouldn't care what other invisible impurities were inside.

At this time, a major event was occurring within the Suiren Clan: the old Tribal Chief of the Suiren Clan had died. In truth, he was not even old; he had only lived for thirty-some winters and summers.

As for how he died, no one cared. Whether he was hacked to death by a Knife or choked to death while eating, it did not matter. Having lived this long, it was time for him to die.

It was just that he had too many sons, and Baoxi was merely a very ordinary one among them. Yet, he was the most cunning among his many brothers. While everyone else still firmly believed in oaths, he had long ago tried making a small oath and then breaking it, yet he had not received any corresponding punishment.

Since then, he had placed less and less importance on oaths. Later, he began to break larger, more serious oaths he had made, but he still did not receive any punishment; on the contrary, he gained many benefits from breaking those oaths.

Logically speaking, he should have followed the old rules, divided up a portion of the property belonging to him along with his brothers, and then established his own tribe as a vassal tribe of the Suiren Clan.

But he had long since seen through the drawbacks of doing so. Take the Shennong Clan, for example; they could once be called the largest tribe, bar none. After being divided up like this, the current Shennong Clan was becoming less capable with each generation.

They were even unable to control the more distant vassal tribes, such as the Youxiong Clan, which was now developing in full swing.

Baoxi had previously sought out a Great Shaman and had him use Yarrow to divine for him. The result was that in the next ten winters and summers, this land would inevitably descend into a great war, from which no one could escape, and only then would it gradually return to peace.

In this process, some tribes would be annexed, and some would be directly wiped out. Only the most powerful tribes could make it to the end. If their Suiren Clan continued to be in such chaos, not firmly united, and instead split up every time the Tribal Chief changed, could they still fight for victory in the future great war?

Baoxi did not believe in oaths, but he believed in divination, because this Great Shaman's divinations were always accurate. Furthermore, even if there were no great war in the future, making the Suiren Clan more powerful was his pursuit; as the son of the previous Suiren, he had to do it.

His brothers were more numerous than his father's brothers, and when his father died, he hadn't said who the tribe should be left to. Their eldest brother, Qi, was strong and powerful, with top-tier hunting skills, but he had a violent temper, frequently beating and scolding the Soldiers and tribespeople, was fond of beautiful women, and often killed Slaves for amusement.

Although the tribespeople, including the chiefs of the larger vassal tribes, all felt that Qi should inherit the Suiren Clan because Qi's combat power was the strongest, and only the strongest Soldier was qualified to be the Tribal Chief of the Suiren Clan.

But Baoxi did not think so. He felt that Qi was a good Soldier, but could never be a good Tribal Chief. A Tribal Chief who was too tyrannical would sooner or later provoke the resistance of the tribespeople.

In his view, the other brothers were all fools; either they relied on their father to indulge in pleasure and laziness, or they didn't even count as qualified Soldiers. There were also a few younger brothers who had just learned to walk; as for the one still in swaddling clothes, it was debatable whether he was even his father's child.