The Overlord Flower's Guide to Intercepting a Woman's Wife's Death and the Male Lead&

wilderness.

Song Qingqing squatted under a dead sea buckthorn tree and rubbed her sleeves back and forth on the gravel seven or eight times.

The Lenin suit on his right shoulder was torn, his face was scraped, his hair was disheveled, and there were two mud marks on his face.

[It is recommended to maintain a level of eye redness and control the crying frequency to three to four sobs per minute, avoiding excessive crying.]

The sound of a motor could be heard in the distance.

Song Qingqing stood up, staggered a few steps toward the sound, slipped on the gravel, and fell heavily to the ground.

His knees hit the gravel in the Gobi Desert, and his trousers were immediately stained with a dark red stain.

This really hurts.

[The area and depth of the injury are within a reasonable range; it is recommended to maintain the current condition to engage the target.]

She gritted her teeth and got up from the ground, waving desperately at the approaching car lights.

The jeep braked.

Liang Jin was the first to jump down, clutching a gun in his hand.

"Battalion Commander Liang..."

Song Qingqing's voice trembled, her lips quivered, and blood from her knees trickled down her trouser leg.

"I am Song Qingqing, the division commander's... niece. I was kidnapped by human traffickers, but I just... just escaped..."

Liang Jin frowned and turned to look into the car.

The rear door opened, and Zhou Bingheng got out of the car.

The night wind whipped up sand and dust from the Gobi Desert, slapping against his worn military uniform. He raised his hand to shield himself from the wind, his voice gentle and warm, carrying just the right amount of concern.

"Comrade Song, are you injured?"

Within three seconds, Song Qingqing's tears welled up in her eyes.

"Let's sit in the car first and talk slowly."

Zhou Bingheng opened the back door of the jeep.

Song Qingqing was helped inside by Liang Jin. After she was seated, she took the military water bottle handed to her and took two sips.

Her hands were shaking violently.

After running around in the wilderness for so long in the middle of the night, feeling cold and scared, the body's reaction after the adrenaline subsided doesn't lie.

But every word in her mind had been rehearsed.

"How did you escape?"

Zhou Bingheng leaned against the car door, his tone gentle.

"They... took me and Mianmian away together."

Song Qingqing gripped the kettle tightly, her voice broken and intermittent.

"I changed vehicles several times, and I couldn't tell which way was which... Later they dumped me in a shed."

She took a breath and continued.

"When the guard went to smoke, I crawled out through a hole in the back wall."

"Where's Mianmian?"

"We were separated halfway through."

Song Qingqing shook her head, her eyes reddening again.

"The last time I saw her was on a mule cart, being pulled in that direction."

She raised her hand and pointed to the northwest.

[The directional error is controlled within 25 degrees to ensure an effective offset from the true direction, while not triggering immediate verification by the other party.]

Song Qingqing's finger remained steadily at that angle.

"Northwest of Dinghe Station, it's about an hour or two's drive. I remember passing through a poplar forest along the way."

"Poplar Forest"

Zhou Bingheng repeated the three words without changing his tone.

"Did you hear what they were saying?"

Song Qingqing bit her lower lip, pretending to try hard to remember.

"I heard someone say... go north, and you'll get there after you cross that wood."

"They call him the boss, and the boss seems to be waiting for someone."

She stopped at the right moment.

That's enough information.

The poplar forest, northwest by north, is one to two hours away. Enough for pursuers to run for a whole night.

Zhou Bingheng did not ask any further questions.

He picked up a folded military overcoat from beside the car door and handed it to her.

"Comrade Song, you've worked hard. Please rest first."

His tone was gentle, his smile was appropriate, and there was not a single fault with him.

Song Qingqing took the coat and wrapped it around herself, then lowered her head, feigning extreme exhaustion.

Did he believe it?

We should believe it.

Her narration was flawless, and her emotions were consistently on point; the system gave her a passing grade.

But she just felt something was off.

[Current target's emotional fluctuation value: within normal range. No hostility or suspicion detected.]

Song Qingqing looked at the system's feedback but did not relax.

The system says it's normal.

But the man's smile made her palms sweat twice.

She couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong with that smile.

Every word he said showed concern for her, and every action he took was to take care of her.

……

The car traveled four kilometers.

Xiao Zhao emerged from a dried-up ditch and ran to the front of the car to block it.

Liang Jin slammed on the brakes.

Xiao Zhao took out a folded handkerchief from his pocket, unfolded it, and held it up to the car window.

There was a small clump of crumbs in the handkerchief.

It was reddish-brown, mixed with sesame seeds and oil stains, and was carved out of the dry, hard pebbles.

"Political Commissar, it was found on a gravel road in the south-southeast direction."

Xiao Zhao pointed to the way they came.

"The spacing is exactly the same as the group at the alley entrance, about one group every three steps."

"direction?"

"South by east".

Liang Jin gripped the steering wheel, his ten fingers slowly tightening.

South by east.

Song Qingqing was referring to the northwest.

The two directions differ by nearly 130 degrees.

Liang Jin suddenly turned his head as if to say something, but when he met Zhou Bingheng's calm gaze, he closed his mouth again.

Song Qingqing's breathing rhythm changed in the back seat.

Zhou Bingheng did not turn around.

He folded the handkerchief and put it in his jacket pocket.

"Turn around."

Two words, spoken softly, as if saying the weather was nice today.

Liang Jin turned the steering wheel, and the jeep drew an arc across the Gobi Desert before turning around and heading south-southeast.

Song Qingqing huddled inside her military overcoat, her heart pounding in her throat.

[Urgent Notice.]

[The target's tracking route has changed; the current direction is opposite to the information provided by the host.]

Reason for change: Unknown.

Song Qingqing's fingernails dug into her palm.

[The host is advised to remain silent and not question the direction of travel.]

The system uttered the word "unknown" for the first time.

Before this, it was omniscient and omnipotent, and was her only support after she transmigrated to this world.

But it fell silent in front of this man.

Zhou Bingheng took the handkerchief out of his pocket, unfolded it on his knee, folded it again, and put it back.

"The road is still long, Comrade Song, lean back and take a nap."

His voice was warm and gentle, exactly the same as when he handed me the coat.

Song Qingqing stared at the dignified and solemn figure in the front seat, a lump forming in her throat, unable to rise or fall.

When did he discover it?

How much does he know?

Is he still laughing now?

She dared not look.

The Gobi Desert outside the car window stretched out as a gray-white expanse under the moonlight, seemingly endless.

She was trapped in the car, trapped in the coat he had given her, with nowhere to go.