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

The two moved onto the kang (a heated brick bed).

This time, they didn't split the blankets into two.

Su Xingmian snuggled into his blankets, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder, finding the most comfortable spot.

The heat from the heated kang bed seeped up from underneath, and his body heat enveloped him from the side.

Two warm currents sandwiched her between them, and the demonic energy in her meridians began to circulate spontaneously, making her feel so comfortable that her toes curled up.

Zhou Bingheng stretched out his arms and gently pulled the person into his embrace, tucking the blanket in.

Su Xingmian placed her fingers on his chest, her fingertips starting to draw circles at some point.

When he drew the fourth circle, the hand was stopped.

"Su Xingmian".

"Um?"

Are you testing my limits?

His fingertips tightened their grip on her wrist.

Su Xingmian replied in the most innocent voice, "My hands are cold, I'm looking for something warm."

There was no sound from the kang (heated brick bed).

After a while, he took her hand.

Su Xingmian thought he was going to tuck the blanket back in, but instead, his hand was led in another direction.

She pressed her palm against his cheek, and his palm covered the back of her hand.

"Is it warm enough here?"

Su Xingmian felt the curve of her cheekbones and the temperature beneath her skin.

His jawline brushed past the base of his fingers, with a rough stubble peeking out.

Unlike kissing, the lips are soft, the stubble is hard, but both are hot.

That's enough.

"Be good and go to sleep."

She closed her eyes, the curve of her lips hidden in the darkness.

The body temperature gradually dropped from 38 degrees Celsius, decreasing degree by degree, and finally stabilized at 35.5 degrees Celsius, becoming the highest normal body temperature.

Su Xingmian's consciousness also began to drift.

The flower bud rippled gently deep within my soul, as if it were being held and rocked in someone's hands.

She didn't struggle and let herself fall.

Just then, Zhou Bingheng opened his eyes.

His long, slender fingers traced Su Xingmian's lips in the darkness.

She awkwardly moved away, but accidentally sucked on his finger.

He licked it, then spat it out.

Political Commissar Zhou could no longer bear it and quietly got up and went to the kitchen.

After a long and eventful day, I returned, held this little darling in my arms, and dared not be presumptuous again. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

……

Since its transformation, it has always been dark when its eyes are closed and bright when its eyes are open, without exception.

But this time, he stepped on a blue brick.

The sky overhead was grayish-white, like a cloudy day before autumn in the south, with no rain and a lazy wind.

She recognized the courtyard.

A sloping roof covered with blue tiles, and low walls plastered with white lime.

In the very center of the yard, a patch of night-blooming cereus was growing in the ground, its stems thick and green, its thorns sharp and hard, and its white flowers, as big as washbasins, in full bloom.

That's where her true self is rooted.

Su Xingmian stood at the courtyard gate, her throat tightening.

A rattan chair was placed next to the night-blooming cereus, its bamboo armrests worn smooth and shiny.

A person is sitting on it.

The old lady, who was in her sixties, was wearing a blue cloth jacket.

Her silver hair was tied into a round bun at the back of her head, with a short crescent-shaped silver hairpin inserted horizontally to secure it neatly, and a few stray strands of hair fell from her temples and clung to her ears.

She held a small shovel in her hand, bent over, and built a dam around the base of the night-blooming cereus. She dug with the shovel and then scooped up a handful with her palm.

Su Xingmian took two steps forward.

The old lady looked up and smiled.

The wrinkles spread from the corners of her eyes toward her temples, but she has good facial features and must have been a beauty when she was young.

Her teeth were straight, and the upward curve of her mouth was exactly the same as Su Xingmian remembered.

"grandmother."

Su Xingmian shouted and ran away.

The blue bricks underfoot receded one after another, but the courtyard seemed to have been stretched out, with the rattan chair always in front of me, neither too close nor too far. After running twenty steps, the distance remained unchanged.

Su Xingmian stopped.

Grandma didn't move; she just sat in the wicker chair and watched her.

Her mouth moved.

Su Xingmian stared at the shape of her lips.

Not afraid.

Su Xingmian's nose tingled with emotion.

Grandma smiled again and brought over a rough porcelain bowl from the table next to her. The water in the bowl was diluted with something and was pale yellow in color.

Honey water.

Every summer, Grandma would exchange two jars of local honey from the next village, dilute it with water, and use it to water her roots, saying that flowers also need to be fed sweetness to bloom.

The honey water from the rough porcelain bowl was poured into the earthen embankment and slowly seeped down.

Su Xingmian stood there watching this scene unfold.

Tears fell, landing silently on the blue bricks.

She rubbed hard, but the more she rubbed, the more there was.

After Grandma finished watering the plants, she put the bowl back on the table and sat back down in her wicker chair.

She looked at Su Xingmian and raised her hand.

Su Xingmian thought she was going to wave.

But Grandma stopped halfway through raising her hand, turned it around, pointed to her own chest, and then pointed to Su Xingmian.

Then raise one finger and place it in front of your lips.

Lie.

Su Xingmian was stunned.

Grandma lowered her hand from her lips and waved it at her, as if shooing a child out the door.

Go ahead, go, go.

Su Xingmian's eyes welled up again.

She doesn't want to leave.

She still had a lot to say.

She wanted to tell her grandma that she had gotten married and moved to the Northwest.

I wanted to tell my grandma that she now has a home, and someone is cooking for her. She makes fried eggs that are golden brown on both sides, and puts brown sugar and salt on the side for her to choose from.

She wanted to tell her grandma that she now had twelve needles.

I want to tell my grandma that she saved someone and that Heaven has rewarded her with a lot of merit.

I want to ask Grandma what that system is.

I want to ask my grandma why she can see her in her dreams.

But she couldn't hear her grandmother speaking, and her grandmother couldn't hear her speaking either.

Grandma seemed to know what she was thinking.

The old lady tilted her head.

Su Xingmian herself also does this gesture; it turns out she learned it from her grandmother.

Then she nodded to Su Xingmian.

Su Xingmian understood the meaning.

I know.

I know it all.

Su Xingmian sniffed.

The light in the courtyard began to dim, the edges of the blue tiles began to blur, and the courtyard gradually turned into mist, with only the patch of night-blooming cereus in the very center remaining clear.

Grandma's features are fading.

The color of the blue cloth jacket disappeared first, then the luster of the silver hairpin, and finally the smiling face full of wrinkles.

Even the sound of shovels turning the soil disappeared, and the wind stopped; the entire yard fell into a profound silence.

Su Xingmian ran forward as fast as she could.

This time she ran.

But when I got to the rattan chair, it was empty.

The shovel rested against the chair leg, and the bowl sat on the table beside it. The honey water had dried up, leaving a light yellow mark around the bottom of the bowl.

She squatted down, leaned on the handrail, her forehead pressed against the bamboo weave pattern, her shoulders trembling.

She couldn't stop crying.

Zhou Bingheng was awakened by the movement in his arms.

Su Xingmian curled up into a ball, burying her face in his chest, her shoulders twitching, her breathing intermittent, and she cried.

He pushed the door open half an inch to look at her face, tears seeping from her tightly closed eyes, streaming down her face.

Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, her lips slightly parted, as she leaned closer to listen intently.

"grandmother……"

Zhou Bingheng remained silent for a while, but did not wake her up.

He pulled the blanket up, wrapping it around her shoulders and back, tightened his arms around her, and rested his chin on the top of her head.

He gently stroked her back with his palm, one stroke at a time, in sync with her breathing.

I stroked it about twenty times.

Her shoulders stopped shaking.

His breathing gradually became longer and more nasal, like the whimpering of a child who has cried himself to sleep.

There was the sound of wind and sand outside the window.

In the latter half of the night in the Helan Mountains, the temperature was approaching zero.

Zhou Bingheng lowered his head and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

Much later, he said something softly.

"Cry if you want to. Grandma Su is gone, but I am."

Su Xingmian didn't know if she had heard those words, but she buried her face in his chest and clenched his clothes tightly with her fingers.

When it was dawn, Su Xingmian opened her eyes.

There were dried tear stains on her face, her eyelids were swollen, and her nose was red.

She moved slightly and found herself wrapped in a blanket, like a silkworm cocoon.

The space next to him was empty, and he left again.

The sound of water boiling came from the kitchen, and the lid of the iron kettle was popping loudly from the steam.

There was a piece of paper pressed under the enamel mug.

The porridge is in the pot, two sweet potatoes were steamed, and honey was mixed in a thermos; I poured it out and drank it directly.

The last line has a few extra words.

My eyes are swollen, I'll put a towel on them.

Su Xingmian sat there clutching the note for a long time.

She got off the kang (a heated brick bed), washed her face, and applied a cool towel to her eyes.

I drank two bowls of porridge and ate one and a half sweet potatoes.

She held the cup and looked at it for a while as the honey water was poured out.

Pale yellow, the same color as the bottom of the bowl in my dream.

She took a sip; it was sweet, and the faint essence of pollen sank down her throat, causing her demonic energy to stir within her meridians.

After finishing the last sip, she walked into the yard and squatted down next to the flowerpot.

The prawn seedlings have grown again, the little spiky ball has elongated into a long, thin column.

She reached out and touched it; the seedling leaned towards her, its body swaying gently.

Su Xingmian's voice was hoarse.

"Did you know that Grandma watered your plants in her dream?"

The seedling swayed again.

Just then, there was a knock on the courtyard gate.