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

On the evening of November 18th.

Zhou Bingyuan was trapped in a darkness from which he could not escape.

It was black on all sides, with no edge and no bottom.

He felt himself sinking.

It's not seawater; seawater is icy and has a salty, fishy taste.

This kind of sinking is different; there is no temperature, no tactile sensation, and even the ears feel empty.

When they sank to an unknown location, a person appeared in front of them.

He had a slightly hunched figure, wore a traditional Chinese long-sleeved cloth jacket, and his hair was neatly combed back.

I can't see the face clearly.

The shadow stopped in front of him and spoke a sentence.

"Is there anything you haven't finished in this world?"

Zhou Bingyuan was nailed to the ground.

The first thing that popped into my mind was that box.

Number: South Survey-07-A.

The blood and sweat of hundreds of people over eight months, the things the country entrusted to him, he lost.

Next came a face.

He was fair-skinned and had a clear complexion; he was more efficient than most of his soldiers.

A very small mole below the corner of the right eye.

He had kept a sentence stuck in his throat for who knows how many years, never daring to utter a single word, and it was still stuck there.

No.

We can't just leave it at that.

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That will to survive surged from the very marrow of his bones, colliding with the medicinal power that flowed through his veins, churning together and pouring into every part of his body.

Zhou Bingyuan opened his eyes.

The light from the incandescent bulb pierced his face, causing it to twitch with pain.

He didn't move, his eyes slowly turning until they landed on the glass IV bottle hanging on the metal frame above his head.

There was movement beside me.

Fang Lan was about to pour water from the thermos when she turned around and saw him with his eyes open. Her hand trembled, and most of the hot water from the thermos spilled onto the cement floor.

"son!"

Fang Lan shoved the thermos aside, lunged at the edge of the bed, and screamed, "Dean Ma! Come quick!"

Ma Chengchuan rushed in.

After undergoing a full set of examinations—including eyelid examination, pupil measurement, abdominal palpation, and lung auscultation—he straightened up and exhaled a breath of stale air.

"We're out of danger."

Fang Lan's legs went weak, and she hung on the bed railing, her shoulders trembling, but she didn't utter a sound.

Zhou Bingwen stood by the door, a sour feeling rising in his nose, and he rubbed it hard with the back of his hand.

Fang Lan recovered and carefully fed her son water with a spoon.

Zhou Bingyuan quietly finished half a glass.

The trachea was still swollen after the tube was inserted, and every swallow felt like swallowing a razor blade.

He didn't say anything and only stopped after he had finished drinking.

His chest heaved a few times.

"Mom, who saved me?"

Fang Lan put the cup down steadily and reached out to tuck the blanket around him.

"Your second brother's wife."

Zhou Bingyuan was stunned for a moment.

His voyage at sea lasted so long that he didn't even receive the news of his second son's wedding.

I didn't ask any further questions, but I remembered it.

My second brother's wife pulled me back from the brink of death.

Catching his breath, he turned his head and looked at the battalion commander standing at the foot of the bed.

"Where's the box?"

The air in the ward was frozen.

The battalion commander lowered his head, feeling as if something was stuck in his throat.

"We haven't found it yet. The underwater currents are too turbulent; the object could have been swept several miles away. We've deployed equipment to search, but it'll likely take a month or two at most... After that, the silt will completely bury it."

Zhou Bingyuan leaned against the pillow and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

That box contained the hydrological data for the entire South China Sea. It was measured foot by foot by hundreds of people over eight months.

It's lost.

He looked up.

"Casualties."

Ma Chengchuan opened the medical record folder.

"Two seriously injured and seven lightly injured have been evacuated. There were no deaths."

Zhou Bingyuan slowly spread his hands flat on the quilt.

No one died.

He asked the battalion commander to come closer and explained, bit by bit, the last thing he remembered before the typhoon hit: the location of the ship and the direction from which the box was dropped. His throat was hoarse from talking so much, but he didn't stop.

After he finished speaking, the battalion commander left.

The ward fell silent.

Zhou Bingwen pushed the door open and came in, holding an enamel mug in his hand.

"Brother, I'll send a telegram to my second brother and sister-in-law at dawn. They're waiting for news in the capital too."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and blurted out another sentence.

"By the way, Mom, the shallots and spinach I brought, wrapped in damp cloth and left for several days, are still green. My second sister-in-law's stuff is just weird."

"What nonsense are you talking about!" Fang Lan looked up and smacked her on the head.

"Tomorrow I'll make porridge for your older brother with fresh vegetables."

Zhou Bingwen chuckled and stopped being cheeky.

Zhou Bingyuan did not respond.

But he went over the words "second younger brother's wife" in his mind again.

It saved his life, and the vegetables he planted will stay fresh for several days.

What kind of sister-in-law?

Once I'm discharged from the hospital, I have to kowtow to him in person.

---

At the same time.

Deep in the secondary forests of Helan Mountain.

The Jeep's engine shut off.

The surrounding area was filled with bare birch and aspen trees, and the nearest outpost was seventeen kilometers away.

The moonlight cast the shadows of the trees onto the car window, where they remained motionless.

Zhou Bingheng sat in the driver's seat, his right hand still on the steering wheel, without moving.

The Queen of the Night flower was placed on the passenger seat.

The stem had become so thick that he couldn't wrap his hand around it.

Two branches are still growing, visible to the naked eye.

All the spikes were turned outwards, but each one was bent towards Su Xingmian.

She huddled by the car door, wrapped in a military overcoat, her body still shifting beneath her.

Body temperature fluctuates.

When the air was high, a suffocating floral scent filled the car; when it was low, her lips turned blue and her teeth chattered.

Her eyes were half-open and half-closed.

Zhou Bingheng saw it.

Her pupils were changing color.

A layer of green appeared around the outer edge of the originally pure black pupils.

It's not a reflection; it shines through from the inside, a thin ring, like the color of the first tender leaves in early spring.

Her hair is changing too.

Starting from the ends of the hair, strand by strand, the black fades and a dark green emerges, quietly spreading upwards.

Zhou Bingheng stared at it for three seconds.

He raised his hand and brushed aside a strand of hair that had turned green from her forehead.

The moment my fingertip touched her forehead, it was burning hot.

It got cold the next second.

The collar of her military coat had slipped down, revealing the skin below her collarbone.

There's something pushing up under that skin.

The bluish-green veins crawled outwards along the veins, all the way to the base of the neck.

Su Xingmian struggled to lift her eyes, the green in her pupils glowing frighteningly bright in the moonlight.

She opened her mouth, but her voice was so soft it was almost broken.

"Brother, don't look."