We Aren't Choosing a Buddha

He found that he had nothing left.

Not a single possession to his name.

Overnight, he was back to square one.

The savings he had painstakingly built up over so many years had been completely wiped out. He did not know when his girlfriend had stopped talking; by the time he came to his senses, the call had already ended. Once again, he could not help wondering—had it really all been an illusion?

But...

It felt so real.

Red Monkey was already dazed. He finally understood what Bi'an had meant by it getting harder and harder.

It really was hard.

One wrong move, and it could easily drive someone insane, leaving them to wander between "reality" and "illusion" forever without waking up.

He no longer knew whether he had passed this trial. Looking at the three beggars, it was obvious... the test was still ongoing. Was this testing "Generosity" or "Perseverance"? Generosity? But he had nothing left to give them.

Just then, the three beggars walked over. "We're cold. Can you give us your clothes?"

What?

Red Monkey was dumbfounded. Did I hear that right? They want my clothes too? Damn it, I risked my life picking hundreds of fruits for you, that wasn't enough, then you took all my money, and now you've got your eyes on my clothes?

Damn.

He desperately wanted to lose his temper, but... he held it in. He had already come this far. Was he really going to give up now?

Before he could make up his mind, the three beggars seemed to lose their patience. They began cursing again, and one of them even reached out to strip him.

That finally shattered Red Monkey's last restraint!

"Fuck your mother!"

The man flew into a rage, swinging his fist. His casserole-sized fist smashed heavily