"hu~hu~"

The wood, praised by Han Cheng, is very motivated. After gathering all the rapeseeds into a large pile, he held the broom and began to swing back and forth, and the wind brought out the small impurities on the rapeseed pile. .

　　 Mumu did this, with some expectations in his heart, wanting to get praise from the son of God.

　　 This was what the son of God did last year, and he remembered it clearly.

　　 Soon, all the small impurities on this large pile of rapeseeds flew away, leaving only the clean rapeseeds.

　　 Mu Zhu felt that he was very capable, after all, he cleaned so much all at once.

　　 Mumu's mood was quickly replaced by frowning brows, because the **** child walked over and slapped his hand on the clean rapeseed pile, and a lot of impurities came out.

　　 Wood quickly fanned with a broom.

　　 But this time he learned to be clever. Before Han Cheng could do anything, he pulled it off first, and it turned out that it was dirty under the seemingly clean rapeseed pile.

　　 "The Son of God."

　　 The guy who doesn't like to talk looked at Han Cheng as if asking for help.

　　 For grinding stone tools, he has enough patience to do it, but he is a little at a loss for the less familiar rapeseed. After all, unknown things are always easy to cause panic and anxiety.

　　 Han Cheng walked under the gate and felt it. The wind of early summer blew on his body.

　　 waved at the wood that started to fan the rapeseed pile with the broom, and asked him to come and clean the area under the gate.

　　 After cleaning the wood, he looked at the **** son, and wanted to get a new solution from the **** son.

　　 just got Han Cheng's order to run back to the hole* took the balloon of the clay pot, and ran over holding two clay pots.

　　 He put the clay pot on the ground, and then looked at the **** child, wanting to see how the **** child is going to use this really unrelated thing in his opinion to make the rapeseed clean.

Han Cheng didn't let them wait for a long time. He filled a half jar of rapeseed mixed with impurities in a not too big clay pot and walked under the gate, stood sideways, and let them out of the gate. This was to avoid the wind. .

　　 Then he raised the clay pot to the level of his chest and began to tilt.

The rapeseed in the 　　 forms a thin line and slides down to the ground. The weightless impurities are blown away by the wind and can no longer be mixed in the rapeseed.

　　 In the beginning, the fallen rapeseed jumped and jumped, but as the fallen rapeseed gradually increased and a round steamed bun shape gathered on the ground, they would not roll far.

　　 Mumu and balloons watched the magical scene together, admiring them, but at the same time they felt a little bit enlightened.

　　 Mumu squatted down, stretched out his hand and carefully picked up the pile of rapeseed at the feet of the gods. The rapeseed that turned out was also clean...

　　 Han Cheng looked at the wood and balloon standing on both sides of the gate, one person holding a clay pot and pouring rapeseed down, and shook his head slightly.

　　 It's not that the two of them did not do well, but that the work would be more convenient and quicker with a sieve, especially when there is no wind.

　　 It’s just that the Qingque tribe still can’t make a decent sieve, mainly because of the lack of raw materials.

　　 Tree slivers can indeed replace bamboo to weave many things, but the sieve is powerless.

　　 The main reason is that the tree strips are too thick to weave fine meshes.

　　 If it is chopped into very thin pieces, it does not have the toughness of bamboo, and it breaks after a slight break, and there is no way to weave it.

　　 Nowadays, there is less food grown in the tribe, and you can still make do with the current methods. When the time is time to grow more food, it won't be like now.

　　 Han Cheng sighed faintly, there are too many things to do! This time, bamboo will be added to the notebook.

　　 When the setting sun was about to go down, the pile of rapeseed was finally prepared by the servant, and piled there neatly, it was almost a hundred catties.

　　 Ordinarily, it shouldn't be done until now, mainly because the wind is really insufferable, sometimes frustrating, and intermittent.

　　The cleaned rapeseeds were transported back to the caves in pots and pots by wood and put in large tanks, half of them.

Han Cheng estimated some harvest, and shook his head. This mu of land is estimated to barely cover 80 to 90 catties. This is just the wet rapeseed that has just been smashed. If it is dried, it will yield 70 catties. It's already pretty good.

　　 With the subsequent expansion of growth, the yield will be further reduced, because these rapeseeds are carefully taken care of, especially the fertilizer, which is adequate.

　　 After the expansion of production, it is obviously impossible to think about this kind of care.

　　Han Cheng was melancholy, but Wu was extremely happy, looking at the rapeseed in this big tank with a grin and grin.

　　 Of course he is happy. Last year, the son of God only planted a crock of rapeseed, and there was such a large slice of rapeseed in the tribe. From last year to this year, he did not eat less.

　　 If all these rapeseeds are planted this year, how many rapeseeds will my tribe have? Wu couldn't imagine it.

　　 Looking at the grinning witch, Han Cheng couldn't help but sniffed. This output is for later generations, and people who plant the land will surely frown. After all, UU reading www.uukanshu.com can't even make money for pesticides and fertilizers...

　　 Han Cheng thinks this way and smiles helplessly. He can't always compare with later generations. This kind of output is indeed good now. After all, in terms of pesticides, fertilizers and varieties, it is far inferior to later generations...

take it easy!

Han Cheng sighed and said to himself, anyway, he didn’t have a system to force any civilization to be built, nor did he conquer multiple primitive tribes to unify the world and become the ambition of the 95th Supreme. He just wanted to have a tribe. The people in it have a better life.

　　 Speaking of God, he is not thin to himself. After all, he did not get to the cannibal tribe as soon as he came. Otherwise, according to the state of his arrival, I didn’t know which plants he entered...

　　 Heiwa did not participate in the **** collection, and Heiwa did not participate in the construction of the wall. It is not that Heiwa is lazy, but that he has another job.

　　 The warm sunlight is spreading on the ground, and the small river is flowing, reflecting the sunlight, and it looks sparkling.

　　 There are fishes playing in the water, and there are quite a few.

　　 There is a red dragonfly hovering here. You can't see its wings moving, but it won't fall to the ground, like an airplane.

　　Flying tired, he stopped on the withered stalk protruding from the green grass on the shore, motionless.

　　 It's a pity that I have never seen lotus root. If there is, Han Cheng will definitely read the phrase, "The little lotus has a sharp horn, and a dragonfly stands on his head." This poem by Yang Wanli has not known how many tens of thousands of years ago.

　　 This is much better than the average history traveler.

　　 The small rivers are not all flat ground. There are also some small hills. On the small hill closest to the tribe, blue smoke is rising at this time, and the black baby is busy here.