Elsewhere, Old Monk Hui'an, whom Qing Chen had been thinking of, sat upright on the golden summit lotus platform of the Vajra Zen Sect.
A keen light flickered in his eyes-he had long since seen the Cangming Army's movements over the past year and a half clearly.
Loud thunder, little rain.
Qing Chen, this fierce dragon crossing the river, seemed menacing, but in truth, he had never intended to swallow Penglai Spirit Island in one gulp. He merely kept nibbling away at its outskirts and plundering them, without openly breaking with the Upper Eight Caves or crossing their bottom line.
This was a gesture of goodwill toward him, and a signal to all the established powers of the Gouwu Sea:
I, Qing Chen, have no intention of overturning the table for now. Let us each eat our own share and stay out of one another's way.
"Amitābha..."
Hui'an softly intoned the Buddha's name, his voice echoing leisurely through the hall.
Below him, more than a dozen Nascent Soul and Dharma Nascent Soul Chan masters stood solemnly waiting. None dared speak.
After a long while, Hui'an raised his eyes, his gaze like a deep pool.
"Wuxiang."
"This disciple is here." An old monk bowed and stepped forward.
"Go take command in the Star Sea Region and join forces with Wuchen." Hui'an's tone was calm. "Since Jiaogu Island has been so insolent, their karmic affinity with the Buddha has arrived. Do not hold back from taking the islands and mine veins we ought to take. Consider it the price of delivering them."
"I shall obey your decree."
Chan Master Wuxiang pressed his palms together and bowed, then turned into a streak of golden light and flew out of the hall, heading straight south toward the Star Sea Region.
Hui'an watched the golden