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

When Su Xingmian turned to the first page of Chapter Eleven, her fingers were still steady.

On the second page, my finger paused briefly at the corner, but remained steady.

Page 3, scale diagram.

Her finger stopped in the middle of the page, the act of turning the page abruptly halted.

The wick crackled, and the flame flickered, but she didn't blink.

So this is what the male human reproductive structure looks like.

It is completely different from the stamen of a plant.

Chapter 11 had an impact on her no less than the night it took human form.

That day, she transformed from a hibiscus into a human girl. Looking down at her hands, she saw that each of her five fingers could move. That level of shock was probably just like that.

She turned to the next page, where a dense description of the fertilization process filled most of the page.

She reads extremely fast; her photographic memory etched every word into her mind.

She paused and mentally compared this process to the pollination of plants.

So that's what pollination is all about.

Humanity must go through that process to accomplish it.

She glanced back at the scale diagram to confirm that she hadn't misunderstood.

She turned back to the previous page and stared at the scale diagram for ten seconds.

Then three things popped into her head.

The extra-large custom-made one that Sister Liu mentioned.

The large "Special" printed on the cardboard box at the very bottom of the cabinet.

There's also the scale.

She did a math problem.

The standard size was clearly marked on the scale. The large custom size meant it was outside the standard range. She calculated how much it exceeded the standard size and which size on the picture corresponded to the line of text on the box that she had touched twice with her fingertips.

The result came out.

Su Xingmian slammed the book shut and shoved it under her pillow.

The tips of the leaves of the baby hibiscus seedling on the windowsill tilted slightly toward her, but she ignored them.

She sat on the kang (a heated brick bed), her hands supporting her knees, staring at the opposite wall.

After a while, she looked down at the direction of the cabinet.

I simply couldn't suppress the surging curiosity.

She got off the kang (a heated brick bed), walked to the cupboard, and squatted down.

At the very bottom, the cardboard box was still in its original position, with half of its corner covered by a folded towel.

She reached in, her fingertips just touching the edge of the cardboard box.

Click.

The cabinet door was held down from above by a hand.

The force was not strong, just enough to get her wrist about two inches above it. The cabinet door closed, so she wouldn't get caught or be unable to take anything out.

Exactly the same as last time.

Su Xingmian looked up.

Zhou Bingheng stood behind her, still in his military uniform, his top button fastened tightly.

He carried a slight smell of alcohol, mixed with a crisp, clean scent.

She didn't hear a thing when she came in.

The door hinges didn't click, there were no footsteps, not even a breath.

She was completely absorbed in the cupboard.

The light shone from the side, and his expression was indifferent, revealing neither joy nor anger.

"Turn it over again."

He spoke two words, very softly, and at a slower pace than usual.

His tone was exactly the same as when he asked her what she had eaten that day.

Su Xingmian used her demonic power to sense the past and discovered that his heartbeat was accelerating, not at its usual frequency.

She slowly pulled her hand out of the cabinet.

All ten fingers were neatly placed back on the knees, the fingertips slightly tucked in, and the thumb pressing down on the nail of the index finger.

"I'm not turning it anymore."

Her voice was incredibly sweet.

She looked up and met his gaze for two seconds.

"I already know what that is."

She spoke with an open and honest expression, her eyes bright, and there was even a hint of cunning in them.

Zhou Bingheng's fingers, which were pressed against the cabinet door, tightened by half an inch.