Chapter 413: Man dies for wealth, bird dies for food

Chapter 413: Man dies for wealth, bird dies for food

Han Cheng held his identity card in his hand and began to pick up the remaining ones, loudly reciting and distributing them to the crowd.

Even the children had them, but they were all over three years old.

Children under three did not have identity cards because their wear and tear rate was relatively high.

The recipients of the pottery identity cards held them in their hands, carefully and curiously examining them. Sometimes, several people would gather together to compare and discuss them.

They admired the unexpectedly exquisite craftsmanship of the identity cards.

It's unknown who took the lead, but on the exquisite pottery identities, someone carefully drilled a small hole and threaded a fine leather cord through it, wearing it around their neck.

In less than two days, except for Han Cheng, everyone in the Green Sparrow Tribe who had an identity card was doing the same.

What was once an identity card has become a piece of jewelry.

Watching the tribe members with their identity cards hanging from their necks, Han Cheng couldn't help but sniff.

Fortunately, it's not the future now; otherwise, drilling a hole in the identity card would be troublesome.

But that's also good. Now that it's hanging around their necks, they can recognize each other instantly.

And it's not easy to lose.

To a certain extent, the Green Sparrow Tribe's identity card combines the functions of household registration and identity cards from the future.

As time passed, after the sunset, the temperature was no longer as hot as before.

On such days, hundreds of acres of millet around the Green Sparrow Tribe also became fuller daily.

Sometimes, a gust of wind would send the fragrance of ripening millet enveloping the entire tribe.

This fragrance made every person in the Green Sparrow Tribe look radiant.

As the sky brightened, with the squeaky sound of the wooden door, the Shaman, who seemed to be not too sleepy, walked out of the room, and as usual, after washing up, he fed the rabbits with grass.

After picking up the rabbit and petting it, the Shaman, accompanied by the Third Senior Brother and another person, walked out of the tribe's gate and headed towards the slightly yellowed millet field to the east.

Turning around the large expanse of millet fields belonging to the tribe has become another primary hobby of the Shaman.

Looking at the well-growing millet, sometimes he would bend over to pull some grass from the ground, something he could never get enough of.

The elder's eyes reddened as he spoke to Third Senior Brother, bending over to grab a clod of earth and hurl it with all his might at the damned birds.

Of course, he couldn't throw it that far.

Third Senior Brother also annoyed, approached from behind and drew his bow again...

"Shoot..."

The elder's angry howls echoed continuously in the early morning field, much louder than when he worshipped the gods.

"Why isn't the Shaman back yet?"

Han Cheng muttered. In the past, even when he went for a walk, it shouldn't have taken this long for him to return...

Watching the Shaman, panting, feathers on his head, carrying a string of dead birds, and occasionally cursing, Han Cheng couldn't help but laugh.

Old child, old child, sometimes when people get old, they indeed become a bit childish in some behaviors.

To pacify the Shaman, Han Cheng deliberately added an extra meal for the tribe and roasted all those birds for them to eat.

"Divine Child, about these birds..."

As the Shaman gnawed fiercely on the bird meat, he looked worried.

The morning's commotion had left him feeling almost helpless against these annoying flies of birds.

Han Cheng nodded after hearing the elder talk about driving away these birds. What the elder said was indeed very necessary.

The ecology here was excellent, and with various bird species abundant around the Green Sparrow Tribe, news of a large area of delicious food had spread among them, attracting many annoying feathered creatures.

If left uncontrolled, allowing them to continue like this until the millet was fully ripe and ready for harvest would likely reduce the yield by at least ten percent or more.

"It's alright, I have a way."

Han Cheng confidently reassured the Shaman.

Upon hearing this, the Shaman immediately felt relieved, quickly finishing his meal and pulling Han Cheng along to implement their plan to curb those troublesome birds.

He had indeed reached the end of his patience with them.