The divine nation by the lakeside was in full swing.
Ever since the "Fishing Rod Holy Sect" was founded, the entire continent had gone insane. Countless cultivators abandoned their swords and techniques, clutching fishing rods as they sat cross-legged, fishing day and night.
However, this frenzy soon caused conflict.
The old sects could not accept that their thousand-year-old Dao heritages were being overshadowed by phrases like "stir a few more times" and "add less salt."
"Absurd! Our eternal techniques cannot be replaced by a bamboo rod!"
"The Fishing Rod Sect wants to monopolize the lakeside—that is the ruin of our foundation!"
But the Fishing Rod Sect rebuked righteously:
"This is the one true path of the Ancient God Emperor!"
"The fishing rod IS the Dao! If you refuse, you oppose the Heavenly Emperor himself!"
The lakeside square grew tense, thousands of cultivators glaring, spiritual power surging, ready to erupt into war.
…
Meanwhile, the black-haired youth was squatting in a corner of the square, running a small stall. His table was covered with freshly grilled fish skewers, sizzling with oil and giving off a savory aroma.
"Hehe, made twenty skewers today. Perfect for trading for some candied hawthorn."
He flipped the skewers, then glanced at the crowd of cultivators in the square about to clash, muttering in confusion:
"Huh? So many people facing off? Don't tell me they're arguing over stall rent?"
He sighed and shook his head: "Sure enough, when too many people gather, even rent fees cause trouble."
…
Boom!
The central square exploded into chaos. Both sides clashed at once—sword energy flying, divine light surging, the heavens trembling.
The old sects roared: "The Heavenly Emperor's doctrine is false! The Fishing Rod Dao is nonsense!"
The Fishing Rod Sect howled back: "Blasphemers of the Ancient God shall be annihilated!"
The cultivators slaughtered one another, blood spraying into the sky, the battlefield shaking with cries.
…
The black-haired youth frowned in annoyance. "Seriously? Arguing over rent is one thing, but actually fighting?!"
He quickly grabbed a fish skewer, raising his voice: "Stop fighting! Here, eat a skewer and calm down!"
…
Boom!
His voice rolled like thunder, overwhelming all sword cries and spell roars.
The battlefield froze.
Countless cultivators stiffened, then shuddered, tears pouring down.
"The Ancient God has spoken!"
"He said: 'Stop fighting, eat a skewer and calm down!'"
"This is the supreme holy teaching! The Dao cannot be fought over—it must value peace!"
In an instant, all cultivators dropped their weapons, kneeling and weeping: "Ancient God, unmatched!"
…
The black-haired youth, utterly speechless, tossed the skewers into the crowd: "Alright, enough, one each. After eating, go home."
The cultivators surged forward to catch the skewers, their hands trembling, tears streaming as if they were cradling relics.
"Holy Skewer! This is a Holy Skewer!"
"One bite, and I broke through!"
"This is the Heavenly Emperor's grace!"
…
Not far away, the Holy Son shouted through his tears:
"You've heard it! The Ancient God has bestowed Holy Skewers and declared peace sacred!"
"From this day forth, any who challenge the Fishing Sect shall be enemies of the Heavenly Dao!"
The Fishing Sect's momentum instantly crushed the old sects, as billions knelt and cried: "The Fishing Rod Dao, supreme and eternal!"
…
The black-haired youth, dumbfounded, muttered: "What the hell… you guys argue and then expect me to feed you? This stall rent is way too high."
He patted his empty basket, sighing helplessly: "Guess I'll have to catch more fish tomorrow to keep the stall running."
…
That night, a new inscription appeared on the stone tablets of the divine nation:
"Holy Words of the Ancient God: Eat a skewer, calm down."
Within a single night, it spread across the nine heavens and ten lands, revered as ultimate truth.
…
Inside his wooden hut, the black-haired youth lay on his straw mat, clutching his fishing rod as he dozed off.
In his dream, he saw himself running a stall at the lakeside, the crowd endless, all lining up for grilled fish skewers.
"Hehe, tomorrow the stall will be even busier."