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

The house was quiet, with the embers in the stove crackling as the firewood burned.

Since Su Xingmian wasn't there, Zhou Bingheng stir-fried a plate of cabbage and served it.

He sat at the table for a long time before picking up his chopsticks.

When the two of them eat together, Su Xingmian is always chattering away, putting food into his bowl while eating, or asking him for affection in a self-righteous manner.

Now the opposite side is empty, and even the air seems much more spacious.

He eats very slowly, chewing each bite of food for a long time.

After finishing the meal, I washed the dishes and wiped the stove clean.

Zhou Bingheng took off his shoes, climbed onto the kang (a heated brick bed), and pulled over a wooden cushion to lean against.

He pulled the brown paper notebook from the inside pocket of his military uniform.

The edges of the notebook were already frayed, and he turned to the first page.

Several columns of data are recorded above.

Body temperature 34 degrees Celsius, heart rate 42.

This was followed by Zhou Bingwen's comments at the time, and the near-death data.

Following that was his own annotation: No human being could be alive and kicking under such physical signs.

He continued flipping through the pages.

Pages two through seven are all about the details of the Ho Yiu-cho case.

He circled one of them heavily in red pen.

The Gobi vegetation shows a uniform deflection over a continuous distance of more than 50 meters, with a deflection angle of about 15 to 20 degrees. This pattern is highly regular and cannot be explained by natural factors.

No conclusion has been reached.

There was just an oddly shaped question mark under that red circle.

Page eight contains only two sentences.

Eleven sets of Morse code, not a single word wrong; a passage of Russian, syllable by syllable, recited perfectly; conventional memory abilities cannot reach this level.

Turn to page nine.

This time it was written in pencil, and the handwriting is smaller than the previous pages.

The gunshot wound on my left arm was about 3 millimeters deep. The next morning, the wound had completely scabbed over, and the healing process was equivalent to that of the fifth to seventh day.

That night, she slept on the heated kang bed with him, and her hand touched the area near the wound, where she felt an unusual warmth.

At the very bottom of this page, there's an even smaller line of text.

The fragrance is similar to that of the night-blooming cereus, but stronger. It only appears when the individual's body temperature rises or their emotions fluctuate, and the concentration is directly proportional to body temperature.

He turned the pages one by one.

This is a habit of top military officers.

Extreme rationality, accurate observation, and rigorous deduction.

He meticulously documented all the insurmountable gaps in Su Xingmian's character that defied conventional wisdom.

The germination rate of seeds in the vegetable garden.

The jujube tree grew wildly after she moved here.

Those wild animals approached each other against their natural instincts.

Mice, squirrels, and even a napping Pallas's rabbit.

Finally, he turned to a blank page.

Zhou Bingheng closed the notebook and put it aside.

He got off the ground, walked to an iron box, took out a small brass key, and turned the lock.

Pull out an item sealed in a file folder from the bottom: Su Yuanzhen's handwritten medical practice records.

He had skimmed through this document before, mainly to deal with Section Chief Yue's investigation team.

Tonight, by the light of the kerosene lamp on the table, he examined the pages one by one again.

From bone-setting remedies made amidst the smoke of war in the 1940s to herbal formulas developed after retiring to Pingxi Village.

Grandma Su's entire life is documented on these yellowed papers.

He flipped all the way to the last page.

After scanning the area three times, I finally noticed something unusual at the very edge of the two lines of prescriptions in the lower right corner.

It looked like a stain the size of a fly's head.

Zhou Bingheng brought over a magnifying glass used for surveying terrain and examined it closely.

Through the convex lens of the magnifying glass, the stain gradually became clear.

It was a line of extremely small text.

The handwriting is exactly the same as the previous prescription, and it was written by Su Yuanzhen.

Xingmian is no ordinary person; treat him kindly.

Zhou Bingheng's hand, which was holding the magnifying glass, suddenly froze in mid-air.

Six characters.

He stared at that line of text for a long time.

The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered again.

He put away the magnifying glass, closed the medical record, and put it back in the cabinet, locking it along with the kraft paper notebook.

The clicking sound of the lock clicking shut was extremely abrupt in the night.

Zhou Bingheng sat down at the table, propping his elbows on the surface, and remained motionless for a long time.

Extraordinary person.

Su Yuanzhen, whose medical skills are unparalleled, would not joke with such words.

She knew that Su Xingmian was no ordinary person.

But she left no warning.

What she wrote was about treating others kindly.

Su Yuanzhen used her life's merits and innocence to vouch for this girl.

Zhou Bingheng closed his eyes.

He was a commander who had received a rigorous materialist education.

Based on the worldview he had built up over the past twenty-eight years, he should have thoroughly investigated and uncovered the truth in the face of so many flaws and anomalies.

But even though the notebook was dozens of pages long, he never wrote down a conclusion.

It's not that I can't write it.

I just don't want to write.

I never wanted to in the first place.

He remembered everything she had ever done.

No need to flip through notebooks or make lists.

She never used those inexplicable abilities to harm anyone.

All her secrets were for the sake of desperately protecting her family and those who needed help.

There are many things in this world that cannot be explained, but the things that have been done are real.

Zhou Bingheng stood up and walked to the windowsill.

The 'Queen of the Night' plant that Su Xingmian planted in that flowerpot was growing ridiculously fast.

In less than three months, the stem had grown to be as thick as three of his fingers and about ten centimeters tall, covered with dense, sharp thorns.

If it keeps growing like this, this pot definitely won't be big enough, and I'll have to move it to the yard in the spring.

He went to the kitchen, scooped out half a bowl of warm water, and added a small spoonful of honey.

Once it has cooled completely, bring the bowl back and slowly pour the water along the edge of the flowerpot.

Before the water had even finished seeping in, the branches of that night-blooming cereus began to sway from side to side.

The spikes stretched out, one by one protruding outwards.

That affectionate gesture was exactly the same as when Su Xingmian wanted a kiss.

Zhou Bingheng couldn't help but chuckle softly.

He extended his index finger and flicked at the spike.

The thorns instantly fell over, clinging obediently to the stem and letting him touch them.

"No matter who you are, you are mine."

The voice was deep and slowly spread throughout the room.

He tapped his finger on the stem again.

"Take good care of yourself while you're away."

The entire lush green stem trembled.

Zhou Bingheng withdrew his hand, picked up the military overcoat draped over the back of the chair, and put it on.

"Stay home and watch the house, I'm going to a meeting at the military region."

After straightening the top button of his collar, he pushed open the door and strode into the night.

Military jeeps waited outside the base, their engines cutting through the cold wind.

They rushed to the provincial capital overnight.

……

Deep in the Helan Mountains, outpost number seven.

Outside, the wind and sand were raging, but the stone houses in the outpost barely kept out the bitter cold.

Su Xingmian slept in a separate cubicle, wrapped in two military blankets, but still felt her hands and feet were a little cold.

As soon as she lay down, the previously dry demonic energy in her meridians violently vibrated.

It felt like someone across the night sky, hundreds of kilometers away, had touched the division she had planted on the windowsill.

Immediately afterwards, the resonance from the branch plant struck her deepest consciousness.

"No matter who you are, you are mine."

Su Xingmian's body temperature instantly soared from 35.8 degrees to 38 degrees.

She sat up and clutched her chest.

The flower bud that had been half-closed deep within the soul fully bloomed its sixth layer of petals at this moment.

The strong fragrance of flowers filled the entire room, almost seeping out from under the door.

"Take good care of yourself while you're away."

"Stay home and watch the house, I'm going to a meeting at the military region."

The sound came intermittently.

Su Xingmian was panting heavily, her face burning hot.

The old fox touched her offshoot.

And he said those things.

She sat cross-legged on the rough wooden bed, clutching the corner of the blanket with both hands, her heart pounding wildly.

This man, I never even saw his face, just two sentences...

Su Xingmian bit her lower lip and buried her face in the blanket.

The corner of the blanket suffocated her breathing, but it couldn't stop her heart pounding back and forth.

After a while, she poked half her face out from under the covers.

The cubicle had no windows, so you couldn't see the sky outside.

But her demonic power was spreading outwards along the underground root network, and the underground world within a ten-kilometer radius of Outpost No. 7 was clearly illuminated in her mind.

Saline-alkali soil, frozen soil, and a thin water vein buried eight meters deep.

Su Xingmian stretched her hand out from under the covers and clenched it.

She closed her eyes, and the fragrance of the flowers slowly receded into the depths of her meridians.

From next door came the sound of Xiao Zhao turning over, followed by a very low cough from Lao Wei.

It's almost dawn.

Six hours later, she would stand on the barren land with the worst conditions in the entire division, at the No. 7 outpost, and tell everyone that this land could be used for survival.

Su Xingmian lay back down and pulled the corner of the blanket up to her chin.

My chest was still burning, and the newly opened petals of the flower bud were still trembling slightly.

She took out an orange hard candy and popped it into her mouth.

She misses the old fox, she misses him terribly.

I want to go back to see him as soon as possible.