"Bro, you didn't actually practice the Sunflower Manual, did you?"
On the way to the Oriental Pearl, the traffic flowed like shuttles. Dumped in the back seat, Martial Saint clung to the front seatback, feeling like a cat scratching at his heart.
Minors aren't allowed to sit in the front passenger seat.
"Wanna learn? I'll teach you."
Boss Jiang drove calmly.
Holy shit!
Martial Saint recoiled in horror, collapsing back into the rear seat, his head shaking like a rattle as he hurriedly said, "This kind of kung fu is beyond me."
"It's very simple."
In the interior rearview mirror.
Boss Jiang's eyes were as calm as a deep pool. Clearly unruffled, yet somehow hiding the resolve and depth of a gentleman who believes revenge is a dish best served ten years late.
"Bro, you haven't left any heirs yet!"
Martial Saint's tone was tragic, his face full of regret, just short of beating his chest and stomping his feet.
Who said his bro hasn't left any heirs?
