Zhang Xiaohua strolled into a somewhat dim alley nearby, glanced around, and truly looked like a young man sneaking off to relieve himself.
But once he reached the darkness, he twisted his body as usual and vanished without warning. The quiet alley seemed never to have had anyone enter it.
After Zhang Xiaohua appeared elsewhere, he did not linger. With a light leap, he rose onto the rooftops and chased after his target at full speed, his feet seeming not to touch the ground—indeed, they did not touch the ground, only the roofs.
Zhang Xiaohua's divine sense was certainly useful, but it had one flaw. It was like standing high above and looking down upon Lu Town: everything fell within his sight, yet everything was equally clear, without distinction of importance. Just now, after hearing Wuniang's account, he had spread out his divine sense to search. But Lu Town was so large that although his divine sense could barely cover it, if the man in black had not hurried along the rooftops, Zhang Xiaohua might not have been able to track him.
By now, after all that delay, the man in black had already gone far away and seemed to have left the range of Zhang Xiaohua's divine sense. Zhang Xiaohua did not dare slacken. A seven-year-old girl was at the age of a flower bud just beginning to bloom; if anything happened to her, her whole life would be ruined.
As Zhang Xiaohua chased with every ounce of strength in the direction the man in black had gone, he carefully recalled the records concerning divine sense in the Carefree Heart Sutra, hoping to find some technique for using it and overcome the shortcomings caused by his crude handling of it.
Half the time it took to drink a cup