The Bad Girl's Quick Transmigration System: Traveling Back and Forth

Chapter 332: Four female generals of the Great Zhou Dynasty were paraded naked through the streets: Su Mei's head and miserable end

The towering, mottled walls were densely packed with wooden stakes, each topped with a bloody head, swaying slightly in the biting wind, emitting a sickening, bloody odor. Among them, the last head, that of a female general from the Great Zhou Dynasty, was Su Mei's.

Su Mei was once a renowned heroine of the Great Zhou army. As nimble as a swallow, she possessed exceptional martial arts skills, and wielded her spear with uncanny skill. She charged into battle with unwavering confidence, striking fear into the hearts of her enemies. Her almond-shaped eyes always shone with a resolute and piercing light, like stars on a cold night, illuminating the path of the Great Zhou soldiers.

At that moment, her head was nailed high on the rough wooden stake. The thorns on the stake's surface dug into her neck, like the ruthless stitches of fate, firmly nailing her last bit of dignity. Her almond-shaped eyes, once as lively as spring water, were wide open, their whites slightly bloodshot. Her gaze was directed forward, as if she wanted to see through the absurd and cruel everything before her.

The shock and astonishment she had felt at the moment of the surprise attack were frozen in place on her face, like a statue frozen in time. A lingering glint of disbelief lingered in her eyes, a look of disbelief at the surprise attack and resentment at the conspiracy. That gaze, like a gleaming icy shard in the cold night, carried a bone-chilling chill, as if questioning the injustice of fate. Feelings of resentment and helplessness, like a thick, dark cloud, hung heavy on her face. Her skin had lost its former rosy glow, turning as pale as paper, and a few strands of messy hair clung to her cheeks, adding to her misery.

Her brow furrowed slightly, its lines concealing a struggle against her fate, each wrinkle a cry of unyielding determination. It also reflected her concern for the Great Zhou, as if she could foresee the impending turmoil and precariousness that lay behind this conspiracy. Her brows lifted slightly, revealing a stubborn and unwilling spirit, refusing to bow to this dark fate even in her final moments.

Having been beheaded, her mouth was wide open. Her once eloquent and passionate mouth now resembled a silent black hole, as if trying to utter something, to tell of her injustice, of her unfulfilled ambitions. Her small tongue, weakly protruding from her lips, moved eerily, the tip of it slightly purple, as if uttering a silent cry.

In her heart, she always cherished the lofty ambition of defending her country. Countless times, she dreamed of clad in armor, atop a steed, galloping across the battlefield, her spear dancing like a dragon, slaying her enemies one after another. She dreamed of achieving great feats on the battlefield and contributing to the prosperity of the Great Zhou. She sweated on the training grounds and pored over military manuals in her tent, all for the greater good of her country. But she never imagined her life would end in such humiliation, becoming a ghost trapped in a conspiracy.

In that turbulent, war-torn era, this exceptionally powerful female general, like the brightest star in the night sky, shone with awe-inspiring brilliance in countless battles. For her, every battle was a life-or-death struggle. On the battlefield, cries of slaughter shattered the heavens, and the flashes of swords and sabers flashed like lightning. Clad in blood-stained armor, wielding a razor-sharp spear, she charged into the enemy ranks like a tiger, crushing foes to the ground in her wake, blood splattering her face.

Time and again, she escaped death, each escape a precarious teetering on the brink of fate. Once, she found herself surrounded by a dense enemy horde, ferocious as wolves and tigers, arrows raining down upon her like locusts. She brandished her spear, deflecting the dense barrage. The spear seemed to come alive in her hand, transforming into an impenetrable barrier. But the enemies grew in number, and she gradually lost strength. Wounds abounded, and blood streamed through the cracks of her armor. Just as death seemed to reach for her, she erupted in astonishing strength. With a roar like thunder, she forged a bloody path and escaped from the desperate situation.

She always firmly believed that her destiny was in her own hands. On countless silent nights, as the moonlight shone on her resolute face, she silently told herself that as long as she worked hard, she could overcome all difficulties. Day and night, she diligently practiced martial arts, constantly improving her strength, and every drop of sweat testified to her perseverance and persistence. She cherished the lofty ambition of defending her country and longed to create a peaceful and stable home for the people of the Great Zhou.

However, fate played a cruel trick on her. It was a seemingly ordinary confrontation, but the Pope of Rome harbored ulterior motives and orchestrated a brazen sneak attack. On a night of dark clouds and howling winds, the Pope and other religious masters raided her tent, approaching silently like a ghost. Despite her extraordinary strength, this top-tier female general, who had reached the Great Perfection of the Celestial Realm, was faced with the even more powerful Pope of the Earthly Heaven Realm, leaving her in a desperate situation.

The Pope's sinister laughter echoed through the night sky. He held a cold, long sword, its blade gleaming with an eerie, cold light. Like a ghost, he instantly appeared behind the female general, the sword raised high, and with a fierce momentum, he slashed at her neck. As the sword was about to fall, countless images flashed through her mind like a movie.

The first thing that came to her mind was the loving smiles of her parents. When she was a child, her parents always looked at her tenderly, caressing her head with their warm hands, offering her endless love and encouragement. That smile, like the warm sunshine on a spring day, warmed her heart. Then, she pictured her comrades fighting alongside her. On the battlefield, they trusted and supported each other, charging into battle together, striving for a common goal. Their figures kept flashing through her mind, their determined eyes and fearless courage filling her heart with strength. Finally, she pictured the peaceful and prosperous lives of the people of the Great Zhou. The streets and alleys were bustling with people, children playing and laughing on the streets, and elderly people leisurely basking in the sun by their doorways. Everything was so harmonious and beautiful.

How she wished time could turn back, giving her the chance to rewrite everything. She wanted to return to the past, work harder to improve her strength, to see through the Pope's machinations, to protect her comrades and the people. She wanted to see her parents' kind faces again, to shed blood on the battlefield with her comrades, to create more peace and happiness for the people of the Great Zhou. But time would not stop for her wishes. The cold blade fell mercilessly, and her life was cut short in that moment, leaving only a reluctant sigh that echoed in the dark night sky for a long time.

But once the gears of fate began turning, there was no stopping. It was already too late. Time seemed to freeze at that moment, yet there was no way to undo what was about to pass. Her eyes widened, filled with despair and resignation, as she watched helplessly as her life faded like a dying oil lamp, its faint flame flickering in the wind, gradually fading. Every passing moment felt like a sharp knife, cutting into her heart.

She watched her body collapse helplessly, blood pouring out, staining the once beloved ground beneath her feet. And her head, bound tightly with crude ropes by the enemy, hung high on the city wall. The bricks and stones of the wall were cold and hard, gleaming glaringly in the sunlight, like the enemy's triumphant mockery. Her head dangled on the wall, a tool for the enemy to show off their victory, a symbol of the most tragic tragedy in this brutal war.

Her soul, freed from her lifeless body, wandered atop the icy city walls. The walls seemed like invisible shackles, tightly trapping her soul and forcing her to abandon it for a long time. Her soul drifted in the wind, sometimes nearing her head, sometimes blown away. Each time it drifted, it felt like she was enduring endless pain and torture.

She refused to accept death! Throughout her life, she had dedicated countless lives to the Great Zhou. Familiar with military doctrines since childhood, she harbored a deep ambition to serve her country. Disregarding worldly judgment, she resolutely joined the military, bravely fighting on the battlefield and enduring countless life-or-death trials. With her wisdom and courage, she resolved crisis after crisis for the Great Zhou. She trained soldiers, refined weapons, and devised strategies, giving her all to protect this land. Yet, now all these efforts had been undone, like a beautiful dream shattered in an instant by the cruelty of reality.

She was even more unwilling to see the Great Zhou fall into enemy hands. The Great Zhou was her faith, the goal she had fought for her entire life. This land held her family, her friends, and countless civilians. Their smiles, their lives, held a deep bond with her. She had imagined countless times that, through her efforts, the Great Zhou would prosper, and the people would live and work in peace. But now, the enemy's iron hoofs trampled recklessly across this land, leaving the people displaced and their families shattered. She could almost hear the people's cries and screams, sounds that pierced her soul like a sharp sword.

The wind on the city wall continued to howl, like nature's lament over this tragedy. Like a ferocious beast, the wind blew past Su Mei's head, making a whining sound. This sound was like she was venting her injustice and unwillingness. Each sob was filled with anger and helplessness, as if it could shake the very world. She wanted to scream, to accuse, but no sound came out. She could only let the wind carry her pain, hoping someone would hear her.

On the Byzantine walls, shrouded in blood and smoke, stood a grim and terrifying sight. Like demonic hands reaching out from hell, thick, gnarled wooden stakes stood upright on the towering wall. And the skulls nailed to the stakes swayed slightly in the howling wind, making a chilling, creaking sound.

Looking closely at these heads, the expressions in their eyes varied. Some were filled with fear, their wide-open eyes still lingering on the horrific scenes they encountered in their final moments, their pupils still etched with the ferocious faces and cold blades of their enemies. Others were filled with rage, their wide-open eyes seemingly spitting fire, their clenched teeth revealing endless hatred and unwillingness towards their enemies. Still others had a hollow look, as if their souls had long since dissipated in the flames of battle, leaving only a lifeless shell.

They were once vibrant beings! In peaceful times, they might have been daughters coquettishly embraced by their parents, or perhaps lovers enjoying the company of their loved ones under the moonlit sky. Each of them held their own vibrant dreams and unwavering pursuits. Some dreamed of a leisurely life amidst the countryside, planting a field of fragrant flowers; some longed to immerse themselves in poetry and literature, becoming talented women of brilliance; and some yearned to be accompanied by their loved ones for a lifetime, raising children and sharing the joys of family.

Yet, the clarion call of war blew mercilessly. To protect their beloved country and their loved ones, they resolutely donned heavy armor, took up icy weapons, and embarked on a battlefield rife with blood and death. They fought bravely on the battlefield, using their fragile yet incredibly strong bodies to withstand the enemy's relentless attacks. Their figures shuttled through the flames of war, like roses blooming amidst blood and fire.

These four female generals were the top female officers under Champion Marquis Yu Shanshan. In their daily lives, they accompanied him on campaigns across the land, achieving remarkable feats. Their wisdom and courage infuriated the enemy; their loyalty and tenacity earned the admiration of their comrades. But now, they could only bear witness to this tragic event in this tragic way.

These hanging heads are like silent history books. Each one is etched with the marks of time and the pain of war. They sway in the wind, as if telling passersby of the cruelty and ruthlessness of war. War, like a merciless storm, sweeps across the land. It shatters countless once-happy families. Fathers lose sons, mothers lose daughters, wives lose husbands. Homes once filled with joy and laughter are now reduced to shattered ruins and the heartbroken cries of loved ones.

War is like a greedy demon, opening its huge and terrifying mouth and devouring all beautiful things. It devours people's dreams and makes children lose their carefree childhood; it devours people's hopes and plunges the whole world into darkness and despair.

On this high wall, every skull tells a story. It's a story of pain, as these women endured the glare of swords and the bloodshed of battle, enduring physical pain and emotional torment. It's a story of sacrifice, as they unhesitatingly gave their precious lives for their country and their loved ones. It's a story of helplessness, as they faced a powerful enemy and the brutality of war, feeling powerless despite their passion and ambition.

These stories will be forever etched in the pages of history, a scar that will never be erased from people's hearts. When future generations read these accounts, they may sigh in admiration for their heroic deeds, or perhaps grieve over the cruelty of war. Regardless, the stories of these female generals will forever inspire us to cherish peace and shun the suffering of war.