C15 A Good Teacher and a Good Friend

Who could have known that the moment the arrow was released, Jieyang would be utterly astonished, his eyes fixed on the feathered arrow embedded in the tree without so much as a blink. He hadn't even caught a glimpse of the arrow's flight; as soon as he released it, the arrow had already burrowed deeply into the tree. Even if he had thrown a stone spear himself, he couldn't have hit the target with such speed, and this feather arrow was far smaller than the stone spear. Its small size meant it was more agile, allowing the arrow to be shot from any angle, in any direction. On this point alone, the stone spear simply couldn't compare.

A cascade of thoughts triggered by this single arrow flooded Jieyang's mind, leaving him in a daze for a full hour. Poor Jiekui was left in a bind, unsure whether to stay or go. He muttered to himself, wondering if the old man had magically turned him into a tree with that one shot. What on earth was he doing standing there so still?

Finally snapping out of it, Jieyang handed the bow and arrow back to Jiesen with a smile, saying, "Not bad, keep practicing!"

"What?" Jiekui could hardly believe his ears. Had he really been turned to stone for so long only to hear such an ambiguous statement? After all, he was Jie'ao's father, the chief of the tribe! A man whose very footstep could make the tribe tremble was now speaking to him with such warmth, encouraging him to practice. His son would bite at the sight of a bow and arrow—what kind of act were they putting on?

But regardless of their strange play, at least he had managed to avoid a beating for today. Jiekui grabbed his bow and arrow and took off like a shot.

Watching Jiekui's retreating figure, Jieyang sighed. The traditions upheld by generations of the tribe were but a speck in the vast ocean. The spear and the bow and arrow were truly incomparable.

Jieyang looked up at the sky; it was mid-autumn, and the white clouds drifted lazily above. Sunlight dappled the ground, covered in fallen leaves, casting a serene and harmonious glow over the entire tribe.

Yet, despite the peace around him, Jieyang's heart was restless. When tradition met the march of progress, no matter how mighty the chieftain's strength, the choices before him were not clear. Thus, Jieyang decided to seek the wisdom of the High Priest, for only the High Priest could offer him guidance.

At that moment, the High Priest was in the stone house, admiring a selection of exquisite pottery. These pieces were the finest of those crafted by Yuan Ge over the past six months. Whenever he had a spare moment, he would take the time to appreciate each one.

The High Priest was well aware of who had developed this pottery-making technique. As the tribe's spiritual leader, his role sometimes even eclipsed that of the chief. A few simple inquiries with Jiemen had been enough to etch Yuan Ge's name firmly in his memory.

He had long intended to meet the young Yuan Ge, but the past six months had been hectic, particularly with the hunting team. The frequent casualties had kept the High Priest exceedingly occupied.

With winter approaching, a time of relative calm, the High Priest's first thought was to finally meet the child named Yuan Ge.

His reverie was abruptly broken by a conversation outside the door. Shortly after, Jieyang entered, respectfully bowing before taking a seat by the central fire.

The High Priest stirred the embers with his wooden staff, and as the flames grew, so did the warmth in the room.

Jieyang got straight to the point, "High Priest, I've come to discuss someone with you today."

"I have someone to discuss with you as well! But go ahead, you first," the High Priest said with a smile, casting a glance at the pottery on the nearby shelf.

Without hesitation, Jieyang detailed the matter of the arrow and shared his uncertainties and visions for the future. He sought the High Priest's guidance and support, for the High Priest was not only a revered spiritual leader within the tribe but also a wise mentor and confidant in private.

After listening to Jieyang, the High Priest chuckled, "It appears we're thinking of the same person!"

"Oh?" Jieyang had never seen the High Priest smile so joyfully; even his deep wrinkles seemed to smooth out in that moment. What Jieyang didn't realize was just what Yuan Ge had done to bring such delight to the High Priest.

He turned and carefully selected an exquisitely crafted clay pot from the wooden rack behind him. Handing it to Jieyang with great care, he revealed, "Jieyang, it was Yuan Ge who discovered how to make these clay pots!"

"What? That's impossible!"

Jieyang could come to terms with the idea that a child's playfulness could lead to the invention of the bow. But the notion that such a sophisticated technique for pottery could also be the work of a child was astounding. After all, we're talking about a mere child. What could a child possibly change? Yet, it was precisely a child who had changed everything. Jieyang struggled to dismiss the High Priest's words. However, the clay pot sitting silently before him seemed to declare that his skepticism was unfounded.

The High Priest caught the look of doubt on Jieyang's face and offered a faint smile before saying, "The sky's beauty comes from the white clouds and the sunlight, but the sky is not ours, for we lack the weapons to conquer it. The earth's beauty, on the other hand, lies in its ability to nurture life and sustain all things. Yet we are unable to harness all that the earth offers!"

As he spoke, a spark of intensity flashed in the High Priest's eyes. He fixed Jieyang with a piercing gaze and continued, "But now, we possess the power to conquer it all. Yang, what doubts could you possibly have left? This is the divine will, the weapon bestowed upon us by the gods, guiding us to conquer together. Why hesitate?"

Under the High Priest's fervent gaze, Jieyang felt a surge of strength fill him, and all his doubts vanished. As the High Priest had indicated, there was nothing to hesitate about. Whether he believed it or not, the invention of the bow and the clay pot would inevitably propel his people into a new era of civilization. Now, it was simply a question of when.

After further discussion, they both agreed that they should meet the boy named Yuan Ge first.

Unaware that he was on the verge of being revered as a deity, Yuan Ge was at home, focused on building his arm strength. The morning's failure to fully draw the bow still gnawed at him. After coming back from the grasslands, Yuan Ge had found a massive stone on the hill behind the tribe, weighing several hundred kilograms. Unable to lift it, he had rolled it all the way to his house.

After chipping away the sharp edges with a zax, he carved a handle directly into the stone, creating a rudimentary stone lock.