Of the three people, the Indian master had already left this plane of existence consciously at some point, as he tends to get too fully into the zone when his feet lay off the ground and he focuses too hard on innner peace.  The Khlystsi was not the sort of person to indulge in sins of the flesh such as pride, and accepting someone's praise for the act of flying wasn't going to get him any salvation.  

This left Yazhu, who at first wasn't sure who this rich-looking young man was praising.  She figured it was the guy who was whipping himself, as it was a very novel sight.  The moment she did realize it, though, she lit up.  Her face broke out in a toothy grin, and she hopped down from invisible steps so that she was only slightly above Florian.

[b]"I see at least one person in the crowd who isn't jaded by modern life!"[/b]  The hermit performed a theatrical bow.  [b]"'Yo', as they say.  I'm Yazhu Kuang, a very fine practitioner of the Taoist art, and also immortal, which is pretty cool.  Most people never get to be immortal, so I say that's a trick on its own."[/b]

She extended a hand downward for a shake in the Western style, and then a second hand to roll up her extraneously-long sleeve.  [b]"Are you here for the tournament as an observer, [i]young master?[/i]  Or were your parents okay with you entering as a combatant?"[/b]