Chapter 064: Where Is the Salt?

The work of skinning and butchering continued deep into the night. The tribespeople, their eyes red from exhaustion, showed no signs of stopping. They were truly overjoyed—never in their lives had they seen so much meat. In the end, Ro Chong had no choice but to force them to rest. The meat wasn't going anywhere, so there was no need to rush.

After assigning a few well-rested tribesmen to stand guard, Ro Chong finally allowed himself some sleep. Two nights and a full day without rest had taken its toll.

At the break of dawn, despite barely getting half a night's rest, the tribespeople were already full of energy, eager to resume their tasks. Ro Chong, helpless in the face of their enthusiasm, began assigning new work.

First, he had Lamefoot lead Bigmouth and Monkey in smelting copper, starting with the forging of forty-two ox nose rings. Then, he directed the men to dig two small pools, lining them with blue bricks and filling them with plant ash water to tan animal hides—ox hide, pig hide, deer hide, antelope hide, and wolf hide. Over two hundred skins were sorted into those meant for fur preservation and those designated for leather tanning, each placed in a separate pool.

Meanwhile, others continued processing the meat. Big Tree led a group to handle cow horns and tendons, while Ro Chong summoned the three adult men from the former Xie Ding tribe.

"The salt rocks you used to trade with us—where did they come from? The ones we use now," Ro Chong asked.

"Chieftain, the salt rocks are inside our mountain cave, but I've never seen them myself," one of the men replied.

"Never seen them? You live in that cave every day, yet you've never seen them? What about you two?" Ro Chong turned to the others.

"I know where they are, but I've never seen them either," another man admitted.

The last man, eager to please, hurriedly explained, "Chieftain, they're both wrong. The salt rocks come from a passage deep inside our old cave. There's a small opening leading underground, but only children around three or four years old can fit inside. That's why none of us adults have ever seen them."

His obsequious tone amused Ro Chong. Life in the Han tribe was so comfortable now, with an abundance of meat, that this man clearly had no desire to upset the chieftain and risk being cast out.

That made sense. In nature, salt exists either as sea salt or rock salt. Since salt is water-soluble, surface deposits are rare. Even if such deposits existed, a single heavy rain would dissolve them, washing the salt into underground reservoirs. Surface salt mines were practically nonexistent.

"Hmm, good answer," Ro Chong nodded. "Can you remember the exact location? If I send you back, can you find the entrance?"

The man quickly nodded, ingratiating himself. "Yes, absolutely! I can find it, Chieftain! Should we go today?"

Ro Chong frowned at him. Why did this guy sound so much like a traitor eagerly leading foreign invaders to his own people?

Without responding, Ro Chong climbed onto the wall and gazed westward for a long moment before finally saying, "No. There's no rush. The wolf packs are still lurking in the western forests. Sending people there now would be too dangerous. We'll wait."

"Yes, yes! Chieftain is wise! It's not safe now—I wasn't thinking clearly!" The man hurriedly agreed, practically groveling.

Damn it, Ro Chong thought, amused. Even primitive people knew how to flatter their leaders? If this guy had a bit more education, would he be quoting something like, 'My king is wise beyond compare, and we are humbled in his presence'?What nonsense.

"Shut up and get back to work," Ro Chong barked, waving them off.

Now that he knew the location of a salt mine, there was no longer any need to worry about salt shortages. Mining it was only a matter of time.

Ro Chong ordered the tribe to bring out the remaining salt reserves and began teaching them how to cure meat, ensuring their harvest would last through the winter. And then, there were sausages—plenty of pig and cow intestines had been collected, perfect for stuffing into preserved links.

Meanwhile, back in the Black Rat tribe, the chieftain and shaman had long since returned from their visit to the Han tribe.

Situated on the east bank of the river, the Black Rat and former Tree tribes were only half a day's journey from each other. Upon hearing Ro Chong's warning, both the shaman and the chieftain took the threat seriously. If a powerful tribe of cannibals really did lurk nearby, they were all in grave danger.

After deliberating, the chieftain decided to lead twenty hunters westward to investigate, searching for any signs that might confirm Ro Chong and Big Tree's claims.

Back at the Black Rat settlement, a cluster of large tents, the shaman was busy directing the women to build a palisade fence for defense. They even tried replicating the Han tribe's defensive measures, using wooden stakes and stone spears to create barricades at the entrance.

Their visit to the Han tribe had been an eye-opening experience. The high, sturdy walls, brick-making, pottery crafting, and animal husbandry—all of it seemed like something from a far superior world. The shaman wanted to learn it all, but they simply lacked the means. Even their attempts at imitation resulted in crude, clumsy failures.

Watching his tribespeople use the newly acquired pottery to cook meat broth, the shaman couldn't help but wonder—just how powerful was the Han tribe if they could craft such advanced tools? And if what his people said was true, there were even more wondrous things there.

"If only we could be exchanged into the Han tribe…"

The thought lingered unspoken in many minds.

The shaman picked up a woven basket made by one of his tribe's women. It was crooked, uneven, and asymmetrical, with gaps in its latticework and a jagged, splintering rim. Holding it, he sighed. Was the gap between them really so vast? Even when they tried to learn, they failed miserably.

Closing his eyes, he recalled the image of Ro Chong's golden crown, the radiant "漢" symbol gleaming upon it. Was that truly their god?

Ro Chong's words echoed in his mind:

"Perhaps gods exist, but I have never seen them."

"I was simply born knowing these things—no one taught me."

"This land can support thirty tribes of two hundred people each. We will not leave. Instead, I will invite others to join us."

Each sentence rattled his thoughts.

"Join the Han tribe. If we join them, we will have endless food, warm hides, and safe shelter. Is clinging to my small authority truly worth giving up our entire tribe's chance at prosperity? Do I really think I am a shaman? Have I ever even seen a god? Deep down, don't I already know the answer? It's time to wake up."

A voice whispered relentlessly in his mind, filling his head with noise. He clenched his jaw, eyes snapping open.

"No," he muttered, shaking his head furiously. "Our tribe is not smaller than the Han tribe. Why should we join them? That young chieftain claimed the earth can grow endless food—what if he was lying? We should wait. Just a little longer."

Grasping desperately for excuses, he reassured himself.

Just then, a child, no older than eight or nine, burst through the entrance of his tent, panting as he shouted, "Shaman! Our chieftain has returned!"