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

On his way from the regimental headquarters to the divisional headquarters, Zhou Bingheng encountered three groups of people who greeted him.

He responded with a smile and a nod, his pace neither too fast nor too slow.

The door to the division commander's office was half open.

He knocked twice.

"Come in."

The division commander was sitting behind his desk reviewing documents.

Zhou Bingheng placed two file folders on the table.

"Commander, please pass these two documents on to Section Chief Yue."

The teacher put down his pen and picked up the first document.

After turning two pages, my brow relaxed.

He turned to the page with the Morse code and looked at it for a few more seconds.

"Do you have the original feedback document from the intelligence department?"

"It's in the regimental headquarters' secure cabinet and can be accessed at any time."

Commander Zheng nodded, closed the first copy, and picked up the second one.

His face fell as soon as he turned to the first page.

He paused for a long time when he turned to the section on orientation deviation.

Turning to the last timeline comparison table, there are only eleven words at the end: "The above time points are for organizational reference."

His gaze was fixed on that line of text for a full ten seconds.

The division commander looked up.

"Bingheng, what do you mean?"

Zhou Bingheng stood in front of the table, his back straight, his hands folded in front of him.

"Commander, I didn't mean anything by it."

His tone was neither hurried nor slow.

"People from above came to investigate my wife, and I thought I should prepare all the materials I could find so that the investigation team could have a comprehensive understanding of the situation."

He paused.

"When investigating a case, you always have to look at both sides."

The instructor closed the materials and placed his palm on top of them.

He stared at Zhou Bingheng for five seconds.

Zhou Bingheng looked back at him, smiled, and said nothing.

The division commander took out the second document, opened the drawer, and locked it inside.

He turned the key twice and leaned back in his chair.

"Okay, I understand."

He waved his hand.

"Go back now."

Zhou Bingheng turned and walked to the door, but was called back again.

"Bingheng".

"Commander."

"Is your wife... doing alright at the guesthouse?"

I haven't visited her.

Zhou Bingheng lowered his eyes, his tone unchanged from usual.

"Investigate if necessary; it's not my place to interfere."

The division commander waved his hand, signaling him to leave.

After the door closed, the division commander opened the drawer again and took out the timeline once more.

Song Qingqing is his wife's niece.

He has no daughters, and this child lost her mother at a young age, so his wife treats her like her own daughter.

This year, he said he wanted to come to the Northwest to help with the construction, so he was assigned to the medical team as a military doctor.

She is usually well-behaved and sensible, and has a sweet tongue that makes her likable.

But every time her name appeared in the report, it was only the date and the facts, without a single modifier or subjective speculation.

But when all the facts are put together, the logic is clearer than any accusation.

The division commander locked the materials back up, got up, walked to the window, and looked out at the Gobi Desert.

Ten minutes later, he returned to his desk, picked up the phone, and dialed the military region's switchboard.

"Help me connect to the Song family in the capital."

*

On the same day, in the capital city, at the Zhou family compound.

After hanging up the phone, Grandpa Zhou didn't say a word and remained seated in the rattan chair in his study.

Three cigarette butts were stubbed out in the ashtray, and the water in the teacup remained untouched even after it had gone cold.

The study door was pushed open, and Grandma Zhou came in carrying a bowl of hot soup noodles.

She placed the noodles on the table.

"Something happened to Mianmian?"

The old man nodded.

"Someone reported Mianmian, suspecting she was an enemy agent, and the higher-ups sent an investigation team to Helan Mountain."

The bowl clattered on the table, and Grandma Zhou's hand trembled.

She put down her chopsticks, paused for two seconds, and pursed her lips into a thin line.

"Yuanzhen saved my life."

Her eyes reddened.

"Her granddaughter had an accident in our Zhou family. I wouldn't have the face to see her even if I died."

"I know."

The old man stubbed out half of his cigarette.

"I have already submitted a document through the confidential channels of the Bureau of Veteran Cadres."

"Su Xingmian is Su Yuanzhen's only descendant. The application for identity verification and proper resettlement was submitted together."

"But it takes time to go through the procedures in confidential channels, at least three to five days."

"Three to five days?"

Grandma Zhou stood up abruptly, raising her voice by half an inch.

"The child is already weak and will be confined to the guesthouse for three to five days!"

"Let me finish."

The old man raised his hand and pressed it down.

"Bingheng is keeping an eye on things over there; he won't let Mianmian suffer any losses."

He twisted the cigarette butt into the ashtray.

"I'm not worried about her safety because Bingheng is protecting her; what I'm worried about is the act of reporting this incident itself."

He picked up a document from the table and pushed it in front of Grandma Zhou.

"The whistleblower is that scoundrel from Pingxi Village who bullied Mianmian. He also framed Mianmian before, but I covered it up."

"I initially intended to teach him a lesson, but seeing that he was paralyzed, I didn't go all out."

"Now they're reporting Mianmian again, and making such a big deal out of it."

"He's just a country bumpkin; he doesn't have the ability to get the materials into the military region's political department."

The old man flicked the cigarette ash into the jar.

"There must have been someone helping in the middle."

Grandma Zhou glanced down and pursed her lips.

Just then, Xiao Zhang came in to report.

"Sir, we have guests."

Xiao Zhang's voice was very low.

"They say it's Old Xiao."