"Little monk, you passed over this Daoist and Brother Xiang, only to pick Brother Li. Did you think he'd be easy to bully?"
A casual voice broke the brief, stifling silence.
Before Li Xiang could speak, Zhang Qilan clasped his hands behind his head and glanced sideways at Huijue, a smile on his lips.
"Your Buddha talks about 'all beings being equal' all day long. So why can't you keep the bowl level here in the arena, little monk? You've broken one of your monastic precepts."
At those words, Huijue's face, usually as still as an ancient well, flushed crimson.
The red spread from his neck to the top of his smooth head. He pointed a faintly trembling finger at Zhang Qilan.
"You... this humble monk..."
He tried several times to argue, but under Zhang Qilan's gaze, every explanation lodged in his throat like a fishbone. He closed his eyes, and after a few breaths, the flush gradually faded.
"Amitabha."
Huijue pressed his palms together and turned to Li Xiang. "Benefactor Li, this humble monk was too attached to appearances."
Li Xiang stood where he was, his expression unchanged from beginning to end.
"No harm done," Li Xiang said softly.
In truth, even if Zhang Qilan had not spoken up, Li Xiang would never have yielded half an inch.
Not even to Chan Buddhism's Little Buddha.
This had nothing to do with pride. It was a matter of tangible gain.
This Demonfolk was an indispensable step toward unlocking Boxer's Conviction, the Boxer's second-rank advancement ritual.
"Good."
With Huijue's concession, the choice of opponents in the arena was finally settled.
The three on the human side had each chosen a target.
The semifinal matchups were set. All that remained was to wait for tomorrow's sunrise, when this arena would decide who