It was already May.

The weather had gradually stabilized. Unlike April, when it would be hot for a few days, then cold for a few days, then lukewarm for several more, it was now getting hotter day by day, making it feel as if summer had arrived ahead of schedule.

This was probably one of the consequences of global warming.

Thinking about matters concerning the future of the Earth, Shen Hao walked alone along the street, gradually leaving behind the bustling Haisha Street and stepping into another street that was empty and silent.

The street was deserted. Only the occasional vehicle roared past, bringing with it a gust of hot wind that rushed toward him, making him frown instinctively. When he turned his head to look, all he could see were the car’s taillights disappearing into the distance. Though annoyed, the car was already gone, and all he could do was swallow his frustration.

As a grown man walking on such an empty street, he wasn’t afraid of robbery or assault—much less now that he was no longer the same as before. Even if he wasn’t a match for that murderer who practiced Iron Sand Palm, dealing with seven or eight ordinary strong men would still pose no problem at all.

Thus, he returned home safely. He turned on the light in his room, went into the bathroom, took off his clothes, and stood in front of the mirror, sighing as he looked at his reflection.

This rate of development was way too fast. It had only been about half a month, yet his chest already showed a noticeable rise… Wasn’t there a line of poetry describing this? “The little lotus has just begun to show its pointed tips.” His current situation was pretty much like that.

If he looked more carefully, besides the obvious changes to his chest, he also felt that his facial features seemed to have softened quite a bit. Even the skin on his body appeared fairer.

He frowned, one hand sliding from his chest down to his lower abdomen, where it stopped without going any further. He merely rubbed it lightly, already more or less certain in his heart that these changes were probably related to practicing the Sunflower Manual.

But he didn’t really have a choice now. Whether he practiced it or not, he was already like this. Since that was the case, he might as well continue practicing. At the very least, doing so would make him extraordinary.

Just thinking about scaling walls, leaping over rooftops, gliding across water with lightness skill—it was simply too tempting to resist.

Shen Hao decided that from now on, he should look in the mirror less. One eye open, one eye closed—just pretend he didn’t see anything.

With that decision made, he stopped looking at the mirror, turned around, and stepped under the showerhead to wash.

Although he had quite a bit of free time during the day, he had already grown accustomed to practicing at night.

Moreover, after practicing and then sleeping, he would wake up the next morning feeling even more refreshed, so there was no need to change his schedule. After all, there were still daytime matters to attend to.

After a quick rinse, he wore only his underwear, left his upper body bare, returned to his room, spread a yoga mat on the floor, sat cross-legged on it, and began circulating his internal energy to regulate his breathing.

After reaching the third level of the Sunflower Manual, what remained was simply a matter of steady, grinding progress.

He didn’t really understand how long this “steady grinding” was supposed to take, but for him, progress during this period had been extremely fast. Whether it was compressing internal energy or expanding his meridians, he had encountered no obstacles at all. Everything went so smoothly that it even felt a bit unbelievable.

Of course, he knew that encountering problems wouldn’t be a good thing—but this was too smooth. So smooth that the realm described in the third level felt like it wouldn’t take long to reach. Once he did, he would be able to enter the fourth level: Returning to the Origin.

How long had it been since he started practicing the Sunflower Manual? From March until mid-April, only about a month and a half—and he was already close to breaking through the third level. Was this manual simply too easy, or was there really something special about him?

Otherwise, there would have been no need for Bai Mudan to give him this manual in the first place.

Actually, finding the answer wouldn’t be difficult—he just needed to find Bai Mudan. Unfortunately, he had only met her once, and because he hadn’t been wearing his glasses and hadn’t had time to see her clearly, he’d been kicked unconscious.

Not even having seen her face clearly, there was no way to find her. All he knew was that since she went to practice boxing in the forest park, she must live nearby.

Even so, finding her would still be extremely difficult.

It seemed that he could only rely on luck.

As he regulated his breathing, Shen Hao’s mind was free of distractions, completely focused on the circulation of his energy.

At the same time, in a wooden cabin at the foot of a mountain somewhere in Huihai District, a young, burly man was sitting cross-legged on a bed. He wore a sleeveless vest and long pants. His appearance was ordinary, but his prominent brow ridge gave his face an inexplicably fierce look.

If Shen Hao were to see this man, he would immediately recognize him—the very murderer he had seen back then.

The burly man had his eyes closed, regulating his breath, when suddenly a rhythmic knocking sounded at the door.

“Who is it?” The man opened his eyes and asked in a low voice.

“Brother Eight, it’s me—Er Guaizi,” came an equally subdued reply from outside.

The burly man known as Brother Eight gathered his energy, stood up, and went to open the door. A skinny young man stood outside and, the moment the door opened, nimbly slipped inside.

“Brother Eight, I brought you a late-night snack,” Er Guaizi said with a grin, placing a wrapped package on the table. Even before opening it, one could smell the fragrance of lotus leaf and chicken. When unwrapped, it revealed a whole steaming chicken.

This lotus-leaf chicken, fragrant, tender, and smooth, was a specialty of Nanzhou City. Many late-night stalls sold it, though each had its own technique.

“Brother Eight, have a drink!” Er Guaizi added, holding a bottle of erguotou in his other hand. He grabbed two teacups from the table, poured half a cup into each with a glug-glug, and set them down.

“What’s the situation outside?” After closing the door, Brother Eight walked over and sat down on a stool. He didn’t rush to drink or eat, but instead asked about the situation.

“They’re still searching pretty hard. Your face is all over TV and the internet,” Er Guaizi said as he sat down as well.

“It looks like I won’t be able to show my face for a while,” Brother Eight frowned slightly after hearing this.

“That’s fine. Worst case, just lie low here for a while,” Er Guaizi said nonchalantly. “This place is remote enough. The police definitely won’t find it.”

“You don’t understand. I’m not afraid of the police,” Brother Eight shook his head, tore off a chicken leg from the lotus-leaf chicken, and started eating.

“Not afraid of the police? Then what are you afraid of?” Er Guaizi truly didn’t understand. If you killed someone and weren’t afraid of the police, what was there to fear?

“Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand… Besides, I still have a mission. Killing that traitor was only part of it,” Brother Eight said gloomily. Killing the traitor had been something he did along the way; his real mission hadn’t even begun yet, and he had been discovered at the murder scene.

Worse still, the other party had seen his face. If he had been more cautious back then, he wouldn’t have ended up like this, being hunted everywhere by the police. He wasn’t afraid of the police, but he was afraid of another group of people. He was also worried that the person he was searching for would hear the news and hide somewhere else, which would make things even more troublesome.

“Murder isn’t even the important mission? Then what is important?” Er Guaizi looked at Brother Eight with curiosity.

Er Guaizi was tall and skinny, about twenty-two or twenty-three years old. He looked rather upright and decent, yet who would have thought he would be acquainted with a murderer and even call him brother?

“Finding someone,” Brother Eight said after taking a sip of alcohol. “I’m looking for someone.”

After saying that, he thought about it and decided that hiding like this wasn’t a long-term solution. He needed to find a way to resolve the issue. So he said to Er Guaizi, “Guaizi, help your brother with something.”

“Brother Eight, just tell me what you need! I may not have your skills, but I do have some influence locally,” Er Guaizi said, instantly energized, clearly eager for Brother Eight to ask him for help.

“I know you want to learn martial arts. I can agree to that—as long as you help me find someone, I’ll teach you,” Brother Eight said after careful consideration.

Originally, because the person he was searching for was special and not suitable for a large-scale search, he had planned to quietly look for clues himself. According to the information he had, the target was somewhere around Mingzhu Residential Area. With enough time, he should have been able to find them on his own.

But an accident had happened. He had been seen killing someone—and his face had been seen. As a result, the police were now after him, robbing him of his freedom and forcing him to hide in this wooden cabin.

If it weren’t for the mission he still had to complete, he would have left Nanzhou City long ago and gone somewhere else. Why would he still be staying here?

“Don’t worry, Brother Eight! I may not dare boast about other things, but finding people is what I’m best at! I guarantee it won’t take more than a few days!” Hearing that it was just a matter of finding someone, Er Guaizi immediately thumped his chest in assurance.

He had seen Brother Eight’s abilities firsthand. He practiced the legendary Iron Sand Palm.

This Iron Sand Palm wasn’t some fake trick from street performers—it was the real thing, just like in TV dramas. One palm strike could shatter a huge rock. If that landed on a human body, wouldn’t it tear them apart?

On top of that, Brother Eight also knew lightness skill. He could leap four or five meters high and easily hop around among the tree branches in the woods. Calling it scaling walls and leaping over rooftops wouldn’t be an exaggeration at all.

Brother Eight had said that this was the martial art he practiced.

Ever since learning about it, Er Guaizi had desperately wanted to learn as well, but Brother Eight had never relented. If he could learn such skills, not to mention all of Nanzhou City—even just Huihai District—wouldn’t he be able to walk around however he pleased? By then, those bosses he currently had to curry favor with would be kneeling before him, meek and respectful. Money and women—wouldn’t he have as much as he wanted?

Before the person was even found and before he had learned any martial arts, Er Guaizi was already fantasizing about his awe-inspiring future.

Seeing Er Guaizi’s expression, Brother Eight knew he had fallen into a daydream. He didn’t expose it. There were many extraordinary people in this world. To ordinary folk, his martial arts might seem impressive, but in the eyes of many true experts, they were nothing special at all.

Did he really think that learning a bit of martial arts meant he could act with impunity? That was nothing but a dream. If he really did that, he would only die faster.

Otherwise, why would Brother Eight be hiding in this wooden cabin now?

He didn’t say anything, letting Er Guaizi continue fantasizing, while he ate meat and drank alcohol to fill his stomach.

Not bursting his bubble for now would give Er Guaizi some motivation. Once everything was over, he could tell him the cruel reality.

As he ate and drank, Brother Eight thought to himself:

The jianghu was not an easy place to survive in.