"Is it the big one or the small one?"
This wasn't a question about the number of dice in the wagering bowl, nor the size of the hotpot.
Looking at the deep part of the snowland, the Young Zen Master said with a more relaxed expression, "Looks like it's the younger one."
The voice of the Broadsword King rang out again, which sounded a lot more relaxed. "You get going then."
The Young Zen Master wiped the mud from his bare feet onto the doorsill, and asked with his head lowered, "Why me?"
The Broadsword King replied, "I'll deal with the elder one, and you'll deal with the younger one. We had made the decision when you came."
The Young Zen Master raised his head and rolled up the sleeve of his monk robe to the elbow before saying, "Though I'm younger than you, I would be much older than you if my former life were counted."