It’s also very likely that he was the first thief of this era.

There might be many bandits in this world, but as for thieves? There should be only him!

On the first day it rained, Henry Carter was very happy. The second day was also good, but by the third day, when the chief began to have livestock slaughtered, everyone started wailing...

Henry Carter was very confused.

That calf Henry Carter knew managed to escape because it was too small; the chief only killed a single sheep.

The sheep died a miserable death.

It was stoned to death...

The scene of people crying while dividing up the mutton was hard for Henry Carter to understand.

The sheep was used to the fullest extent possible; every edible part of its body was carefully thrown into the clay pot.

Henry Carter didn’t want to go near the pot where the offal was being cooked. He didn’t think these people could turn sheep organs, especially intestines, into a delicious stew.

But his mother carried him closer to that pot, making him briefly think she was going to throw him in as well. After all, his chubby body looked much more appetizing than that skinny sheep.

His mother was very proud; raising such a plump son as Henry Carter was her greatest honor. The other children in the tribe were all skinny, their bellies bulging, ribs clearly visible, and heads big. Only Henry Carter had a big head and a fat, fleshy body—this was what a healthy animal cub should look like.

Henry Carter could actually understand his mother’s thoughts. In the tribe, strong men were the hope of the people; only strong men could bring back more game and feed the whole tribe.

For the first time, the chief set his eyes on Henry Carter. He took Henry Carter from his mother’s arms, his large hands feeling all over Henry Carter’s fat, and finally, after a satisfied glance at his obvious male features, handed him back to his mother.

The men sitting around the clay pot made room so that his mother could sit with Henry Carter in her arms.

Once the sheep became mutton, everyone cheered up. Handfuls of dried vegetables—who knows if they were moldy—were thrown into the clay pot until it was stuffed full.

The smell of dried vegetables mixed with sheep offal was hard for Henry Carter to bear, but the people sitting around the pot clearly didn’t feel the same. Their eyes were fixed on the pot, and when the chief poured some grayish-brown powder from a leather pouch into the pot, the tribe’s longing for the food seemed to grow even stronger.

Seeing Henry Carter staring at the pouch in his hand, the chief took a bit of the powder and smeared it on Henry Carter’s lips.

Henry Carter carefully tasted it—it was salt.

However, judging by the color, the salt was full of impurities, especially the grayish salt, which likely contained some harmful elements.

A single skinny sheep was nowhere near enough to feed all three hundred people in the tribe; each person only got a thin, bland meat broth.

Henry Carter gave his share of meat to his mother. He had seen clearly that there were still half-formed sheep droppings floating in the broth.

So, he decisively chose to feed his mother first, and then drink her milk.

Henry Carter was quick with his hands, and his skill at handling meat was better than his mother’s, or even the chief’s, because he could use chopsticks, unlike the others who were still fishing for meat in the hot pot with their hands.

Even people with thick skin and flesh can’t withstand boiling water.

So, Henry Carter was always able to find meat in the soup pot and feed it to his mother. She ate very happily, and after her hands got burned a few times, she simply opened her mouth wide, waiting for her son to feed her.

The chief saw this scene and didn’t stop Henry Carter’s “robbery,” and even prevented others from trying to snatch food from Henry Carter.

He even made two wooden sticks like the ones Henry Carter was using, and tried to fish food out of the hot pot. He was clumsy at first, but after a few tries, he happily managed to pick out some dried vegetables with the chopsticks—more accurately, he picked them out!

The chief was the smartest person in the tribe and bore the responsibility for the tribe’s evolution. His every word and action was always imitated by the others.

Soon, the tribe stopped grabbing food with their hands and switched to using sticks to fish it out.

Chapter 6: This Is a Moment of Great Harvest

The heavy rain was still falling, with no sign of stopping.

In the canyon below the cave, muddy waves surged. The flash flood that had formed half a day ago was growing fiercer, roaring as it rushed past below the cave.

The flood carried with it huge boulders, trees, and even some wild animals. Some of the boulders rolling in the flood were as big as houses, making a tremendous noise wherever they went. When they crashed into the bends of the canyon, it seemed as if the whole mountain shook.

Henry Carter sat in his mother’s arms, gazing at the torrential rain outside the cave, lost in thought. He knew the natural environment of the primitive era was harsh, but he hadn’t expected it to be this harsh.

No wonder ancient myths always spoke of the Milky Way leaking from the sky. With rain like this, saying the sky river had burst was no exaggeration.

There was no way the goddess Nüwa would come to patch up the sky.

Looking at his mother’s worried face, Henry Carter suddenly felt that, at this very moment, there must be a goddess Nüwa in his mother’s heart.

The mountain floods should be a dynamic force capable of changing the landscape. Henry Carter didn’t know what the place where he had arrived would look like by the time he grew up.