While everyone else in the Primordial World was scrambling for spiritual ley lines and competing in divine arts, I, A San Zu, a three-legged Golden Crow good-for-nothing whose tail feathers caught fire even when I breathed flames, set up an innate parasol-tree grill at the foot of Kunlun Mountain. Skewers of spirit herbs were brushed with spirit-spring honey sauce, grilled flood-dragon tendon sausages burst with juice, and deep-sea mystic fish skewers got extra chili. Even Kunpeng of the North Sea had to reserve his spot three days in advance with a voice-transmitting conch: “Go easy on the chili and I’ll flip your stall!”
I’d only wanted to avoid the rat race and earn a little food money, but the big shots crowded around my stall every day:
- The auspicious Qilin squatted on a stone stool and gnawed on skewers, its snowy-white mane covered in sauce. “I’m only here to make sure you don’t waste ingredients,” it insisted, while secretly moving the honey sauce jar beside its own hoof.
- Halfway through giving a lecture on the Dao, Old Ancestor Hongjun followed the aroma over and asked with a frown, “Is my Dao not as good as a skewer of grilled chives?” But after finishing it, he left word: “Bring two skewers to Zixiao Palace tomorrow.”
- Bai Ze brought his little disciples over for a treat, while a group of Azure Phoenixes fought over the spirit herb skewers. Even the East Sea Dragon King sent shrimp soldiers with flood-dragon tendon: “Grill something for this old dragon to replenish his strength. Cultivation is too grueling!”
When Hongjun helped me stabilize the split in the sky, the Three Pure Ones helped me haul ingredients, and the Wu and Yao tribes laid down their weapons and grilled skewers together, I suddenly understood: the Great Dao of the Primordial World wasn’t only about ascension. Getting Kunpeng to set aside his pride and wait for a skewer, getting the Qilin to put away its sharpness and sneak a taste of the sauce, and bringing everyone together around the grill, laughing out loud: this ordinary warmth of everyday life was the Dao most worth protecting.
The grill at the foot of Kunlun Mountain is wafting with delicious aromas again. Want to grab some skewers together? There are still two hot chive skewers saved for Old Ancestor Hongjun!
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