On a bright day in spring, a constipated brown-spotted cow took a fat shit on a plot of farmland. The shit was too fat and too smelly, the helpless farmer of that land could not find anyone within ten-thousand li willing to remove it.
No blazing sun nor ardent rain could banish away this piece of shit. This was the ever-enduring pile of cowshit. Here it sat, for months and months, like a stoic protector silently watching over the farmer, who toiled in his other fields. As the man labored, he wore an expression as if he had stepped in dogshit and smelled as if he had stepped in dogshit.
But it was not dogshit that was the problem. It was cowshit.
Two years had passed, and the farmer realized this shit was a blessing in disguise. Ever since its smelly conception, demons had never attacked his farm. Demons had raided several of his neighbors, but suspiciously left his own farm untouched. The crops near the cowshit were blessed with great health and preternatural abundance, yielding three to four times the normal amount of fruits. From the day he sold twice his usual amount onward, he gave thanks to the holy excrement that blessed his land.
Later that year, the farm weathered an exceptionally strong storm throughout the night. The gale rustled and whistled through the powerless fields, even directly uprooting plants. The rain was harsher and denser than every previous storm. In this downpour, a mortal human couldn't see anything further than three cun ahead.
Crops screamed, the cows mooed, and the farmer in his quaint room prayed with all his being for his farm to be safe.
At the crack of dawn on the next day, the storm subsided. The farmer opened his door outside to see the damage dealt. In the minimal sunlight, he saw that his farm endured. There would be many things he'd need to replace or repair, but the farm and this year's harvest would survive.
And he found that his beloved guardian cowshit had also survived. He prostrated before the tall figure and cried tears of joy. He thanked Saint Cowshit for the blessings and protections it had offered. When he finally lifted his head, the Heavens slammed a bolt of great lightning into the cowshit.
The cowshit was no more. In its place stood a small boy. His hair was styled to look like a piece of shit.
"Thank you, old farmer. I will never forget you for the thanks you have given me every day. Because of this, I have attained enough Heavenly merits to become sentient. I will see the rest of the world to make sure no demons hurt farmers like you. I am Big Chungus. Let demons cow before my name."
The enlightened cowshit Big Chungus flew into the sky by farting to see the rest of the world and later became a cultivator.
THE END ??