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

Just after the Black Wind Demon killed all the female soldiers of the Falcon Squad and left, Liu Cuihua was the first to appear in front of the female soldiers. She stroked Lin Wei's face, which had lost its warmth, and regardless of the fishy stench that covered her body, she stroked her cheek and murmured, "Good girl, wake up! If you leave, will we go into darkness again?"

Warm Light in the Cold Wind: Remembering the Female Soldiers Who Were Heroes in Our Hearts (The following is from the perspective of fellow villager Aunt Liu Cuihua, from Aunt Liu's first-person perspective)

In the early morning, a biting cold wind blew, scattering snow like knives, relentlessly sweeping through every corner of the streets surrounding the Beehive. At this moment, my breath turned to frost, and I, Aunt Liu Cuihua, known for my diligence and kindness, was the first to stumble to the battle site where the Black Wind Demon had just killed the Falcon Squad.

My eyes scanned the bloody battlefield eagerly, finally resting on Lin Wei's cold body, lying in a pool of feces and urine. Her leather armor had long been stripped away by the Black Wind Demon's men, leaving her naked, cold, and lifeless. Clearly, she had been dead long ago (the female soldiers had perished last night and were now practically frozen solid. Author's note).

Trembling, I reached out my hand and carefully touched Lin Wei's face, which had turned slightly purple from the cold, feeling her heartbreaking coldness. My fingers gently caressed her cheek, as if I could feel her former warmth through this cold skin. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my throat was so choked that I could barely speak.

I murmured, "Good boy, wake up! Don't scare me..." The voice sounded so weak in the cold wind, but it was filled with endless sadness and despair.

This scene is deeply etched in the hearts of every one of us villagers. Lin Wei and her comrades, a group of female soldiers with an average age of just over thirteen, arrived near our Beehive area two weeks ago to eliminate the Black Wind Demon. At that time, the local people were suffering from a once-in-a-century snowstorm. Roads were cut off, and supplies were scarce. Many villagers were running low on food, leaving the elderly sighing anxiously, and children losing their former vivacity due to lack of food.

Just when we were on the verge of despair, they appeared before us, like a group of heroic red plum blossoms, braving the wind and snow, treading through the mud. Without much rhetoric, they put down their backpacks and plunged into the intense rescue work. But what we will always remember most is the charitable soup distribution they organized, which lasted for several days.

Before daybreak, lights flickered on in the dilapidated warehouse where the female soldiers lived. They took turns guarding the village, using the few remaining bags of grains, mixed with the rice and flour they had saved, to cook pot after pot of steaming porridge. The porridge might not have been particularly delicious, and even a bit watery due to the limited supplies, but in that famine-stricken winter, it felt like a magical current, warming the hearts of everyone in the village, young and old.

I still remember the young Lin Wei, always rushing to do the most tiring work. She was responsible for stirring the porridge in the pot with a large iron spoon, stirring for hours, and the fine beads of sweat on her forehead soon turned into frost. Her hands were red from the cold and even a little unresponsive, but her face always wore that signature, reassuring smile. Whenever villagers came to get porridge, she would always fill their bowls and remind them: "Uncle, aunt, drink while it's hot to warm your body." "Little friend, drink slowly, there's more if you don't have enough."

Once, my grandson had a high fever, and there was nothing to eat at home. He was so weak he didn't even have the energy to cry. I carried him to get some porridge. Lin Wei saw me and, without a word, pulled out a still-warm apple from her bosom—a precious sustenance they themselves wouldn't eat. She pressed it into my hand and scooped a bowl of thick rice oil for the child. She said, "Auntie, give the child some nourishment, he'll get better." At that moment, even I, an old woman, couldn't hold back my tears. It wasn't just the apple and the porridge; it was a friendship more precious than gold, the deep love these female soldiers had for us, the people!

The female soldiers not only provided porridge but also cleared snow and cleared paths for us, helped the elderly with limited mobility fetch water and chop firewood, and told children stories from beyond the mountains, encouraging them to be strong. With their tender shoulders, they shouldered burdens that should not belong to them. Their selfless dedication embodied the profound weight of the phrase "defenders of the people." They were daughters, sisters, and even more so, our guardians in times of crisis!

So, when Aunt Liu saw Lin Wei faint in the cold wind while shoveling snow due to exhaustion and malnutrition, she felt so distressed, and the hearts of all the villagers tightened. She was not our relative, but she was better than family!

The chill winds still blow, but the warmth brought by these female soldiers remains. Their figures, like red plum blossoms blooming proudly in the snow, are beautiful and resilient; their heroic deeds, like the brightest stars in the darkness, point the way to hope. Through their actions, they teach us what responsibility, commitment, and the deep bond between family and people truly are.

Today, the snowstorm has long passed, and the female soldiers have long since departed for new battlefields. But the warmth and touching memories they left behind have long since been woven into the memories of our village and etched into the hearts of each of us. They are truly heroes in the hearts of our people! We will forever remember that cold winter, a group of young female soldiers, with their youth and passion, composed a moving song of devotion for us. We may not remember all of their names, but their spirit, like these towering green mountains, will forever stand in our hearts, inspiring us for generations to come!

Salute to our most adorable female soldiers! Salute to the brightest ray of warmth in the cold wind! We will never forget your kindness!

But now, Lin Wei and the other girls in her squad lay in a pool of blood. Their bodies twisted, as if they had endured immense pain in their final struggle. Blood stained their green leather armor, blending with the surrounding mud, creating a horrifying scene.

I gazed upon the mangled, naked bodies of the female Falcon Squad members, my heart filled with grief and anger. Their bodies were covered in wounds, some unrecognizable. Their eyes, each wide open, seemed to speak of endless sorrow.

Some female soldiers' bodies were torn to pieces, their internal organs exposed, a sight unbearable to watch. Others suffered severed limbs, blood gushing from their severed limbs, staining the ground beneath them red. Some had their throats pierced, their blood already congealed. Others suffered severe head injuries, their blood and brain matter mingling and flowing onto the ground, forming a sickening stain.

However, in this horrific scene, I couldn't help but recall the beautiful moments of the female soldiers' heavy smoky makeup when they were alive.

It was a bright, sunny day, and the female soldiers, neatly dressed in their uniforms, stood proudly on the training ground. Their faces were delicately painted with smoky makeup, their already bright eyes accentuated by black eyeshadow and thick lashes, appearing even more profound and captivating. Their lips, painted with vibrant lipstick, were slightly upturned, revealing confidence and resolve.

Their hair is neatly combed back and fixed with a black headband, showing a capable and neat beauty. The sunlight shines on them, reflecting their healthy complexion and upright posture, as if they are the most dazzling scenery in this land.

They marched with vigorous steps, their movements in perfect unison, each movement imbued with power and rhythm. Their eyes were firm and focused, as if declaring their determination and courage to the world. In that moment, they were so beautiful and powerful that one could not help but be captivated.

Now, these beautiful women soldiers have left us, leaving behind only endless sorrow and deep remembrance. I pray silently for them, hoping they rest in peace in heaven, and that we will always remember their bravery and dedication.

They were so brave, they sacrificed their lives without hesitation for the court and for us, the people. Their sacrifice will be forever etched in our hearts and serve as a driving force for our progress. We must remember their heroic deeds and keep their spirit alive.

The civilians gathered around, reminiscing about the women soldiers. They recalled their bravery on the battlefield, their willingness to sacrifice their lives to protect everyone. Their kindness, courage, and resilience deeply touched everyone.

The civilians gathered silently, their eyes filled with grief and sorrow. My trembling hands gently stroked the cold faces of the female soldiers, tears welling up in my eyes.

The scene before me was heartbreaking. The female soldiers wore heavy and bright makeup, as if still carrying the pride and determination they had in life. Their faces were covered with thick foundation, which concealed their original skin color and made their faces look pale and bloodless.

The eyebrows are carefully drawn, as slender as willow leaves, slightly raised, revealing a hint of stubbornness. The eyes are outlined with dark eye shadow, making them more profound, and the eyes seem to flicker with the desire for victory.

Their lips were painted with bright red, as bright as blood, as if to express their inner unyielding spirit. The red lips were particularly eye-catching on their pale faces, reminding people of their former beauty and vitality.

Yet, in stark contrast to their intense makeup lies their unwavering expressions. Their eyes are wide open, bulging, as if they are taking in everything before them. Their gazes are filled with injustice and resentment, as if they are questioning why the heavens are so unfair.

Some female soldiers lay in pools of blood, their clothes and makeup stained red. Their lipstick, once vibrant, now seemed even more glaring against the backdrop of blood, like flowers of evil blooming in a pool of blood.

Some female soldiers' bodies were twisted into strange shapes, as if they had experienced great pain before death. Their makeup looked particularly strange on their distorted faces, as if it was a silent cry, telling of the cruelty of war.

Some female soldiers still wore expressions of pain on their faces, their brows furrowed, the corners of their mouths slightly raised, as if they were still struggling against fate in their final moments. The makeup beneath these expressions of pain seemed more like a mockery of war and a longing for peace.

These once beautiful and brave women have now passed away in such a tragic way. Their heavily made-up appearance has become a witness to the war and an eternal pain in people's hearts.

With trembling hands, the civilians carefully gathered the battered remains of the female soldiers, each movement filled with respect and pity. The sight of the naked corpses before their eyes was horrific.

Their bodies were covered in hideous scars, as if slashed by countless sharp blades, dripping with blood. Some were so deep that the bone was visible, revealing a pale, unbearable sight. The blood had long since dried, congealing into dark red clots that formed a stark contrast against the pale skin.

The female soldiers' faces were twisted, pain and fear frozen in their features. Their eyes were wide open, as if they spoke of the despair and unwillingness of their lives. Their lips were slightly parted, as if they were still letting out their final cries.

Their hair was disheveled, stained red with blood, tangled with dirt and weeds. Their leather armor was tattered, and most of them had been stripped of their armor and shorts by the Black Wind Demon's men, leaving them practically naked. Not a single piece of clothing covered their bodies, a look of extreme shame and forlornness. It also exposed even more of their wounds and suffering to the civilians.

Some female soldiers were left with mutilated bodies, their limbs twisted and deformed, and some even lost their heads, leaving only a broken body. These tragic scenes are horrifying and heartbreaking.

The hearts of the people were heavy, tears welling up in their eyes as they gently carried the bodies of the female soldiers onto stretchers. Everyone prayed silently in their hearts, hoping that these brave female soldiers could rest in peace.

When the last body was collected, the people slowly raised their heads, their eyes revealing determination and resolve. They will always remember the heroic deeds of these female soldiers, carry on their spirit, and continue to strive for a better future.

At this moment, the people's anger towards the Black Wind Demon reached its peak. They cursed this evil being and vowed to avenge the female soldiers. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, saying, "Black Wind Demon, you evil creature, we will never let you go!"

The civilians responded, their voices filled with hatred and determination. They knew that only by uniting could they face the Black Wind Demon in a life-or-death struggle. Amidst their grief, they gathered strength, preparing to unite and rise in resistance, determined to seek justice for the female soldiers.

The people and I recalled the scenes of the female soldiers distributing porridge in the past, and we were lost in the memories. It was the scene of the female soldiers helping them, as if it was just yesterday, and the voices, smiles and faces of the female soldiers floated before our eyes.