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

Beneath the old locust tree on the street, a familiar camouflage tent, amidst curls of smoke, has stood for many years. Like a silent yet warm symbol, it signifies the continuation of a spirit and carries a moving story of dedication and youth. The story begins with a young female officer named Lin Wei.

The floodgates of memory always slowly open with the aroma of early morning porridge. That year, Lin Wei led the female soldiers of the Falcon Squad to the neighborhood near Beehive, not for a drill, but for disaster relief. The floods had receded, homes were ready for reconstruction, and hearts needed comfort. Seeing the weary faces of the villagers, Lin Wei and her comrades set up a large pot under an old locust tree and began to cook steaming porridge.

Porridge, the simplest of foods, is also the most heartwarming. Lin Wei seemed to understand this particularly well. She always liked to add a few red dates to her porridge, watching them slowly expand in the rice porridge, releasing a sweet warmth. "A little sweeter, and everyone's heart will feel warmer," she often said to her comrades, and also to Aunt Liu Cuihua, who came to help.

Aunt Liu had observed Lin Wei and the female soldiers' recent actions and their benevolent deeds, and was deeply grateful for the hope they brought to the people. She felt sorry for these young women, who, at such a young age, shouldered such heavy responsibilities: helping them rebuild their homes, fighting bandits, and preparing porridge for the villagers. She often brought her homemade pickles and steamed buns to the porridge stand, offering a hand and a chat. Watching Lin Wei's busy figure and hearing her hearty laughter, Aunt Liu felt as close to her as her own daughter.

However, the unexpected happens. During a hailstorm, a female soldier was hit by falling rocks while trying to protect an elderly man, seriously injuring herself. Ultimately, her comrades carried her onto a three-wheeled motorcycle and took her to a clinic for treatment. Before leaving, a trace of longing lingered on her pale face, she clutched Liu Cuihua's hand tightly, her voice weak but firm, "Auntie, don't evacuate the porridge stall... Let our comrades continue."

Liu Cuihua wiped her tears and nodded heavily: "Good children, don't worry, Auntie will help you watch over them!"

The motorcycle roared away, taking the injured female soldier with it, but not the warmth and words of advice she left behind. The Falcon Squad's porridge shed, nestled beneath the old locust tree, truly remained. But the cauldron never cooled, and the aroma of the porridge never faded.

Aunt Liu really kept her promise and appeared in the porridge shed every day as punctual as clockwork. She stood quietly by and watched the busy figures of the new female soldiers attentively.

The female soldiers diligently washed rice, lit a fire, and cooked porridge. Each step seemed unfamiliar, but they were full of enthusiasm and effort. Aunt Liu smiled, her eyes revealing her love and admiration for these young female soldiers.

When the porridge is almost done, Aunt Liu will walk gently to the pot, just like Lin Wei did back then, and carefully put a handful of red dates in. The red dates roll in the steaming porridge, emitting a light sweet fragrance.

Aunt Liu always said to the new female soldiers: "Your Captain Lin likes to put red dates in porridge. She said that the porridge will be sweeter and everyone will feel warmer." Her voice was gentle and kind, with deep nostalgia for Lin Wei.

As the female soldiers listened to Aunt Liu recount Lin Wei's story, the days associated with the fragrant porridge seemed to resurface before their eyes. They could imagine Lin Wei busy at work in the porridge shed, her smiling face as she served bowls of sweet porridge to everyone.

Aunt Liu recounted Lin Wei's story over and over again, each time like reliving those beautiful times. Her words were filled with longing and respect for Lin Wei, as if as long as she kept telling them, Lin Wei would never leave.

As the autumn wind picked up, the leaves of the old locust tree fell once again, blanketing the ground in golden glory. Smoke from the porridge shed continued to curl, blending with the morning mist in a dreamlike atmosphere. Liu Cuihua sat on a small stool, squinting as she watched the busy female soldiers. They were young and energetic, their faces bearing the same determination and tenderness that had once graced Lin Wei. Suddenly, Aunt Liu felt as if Lin Wei had never left—she was present in that bowl of steaming, date-scented porridge, in the contented sounds of children reading after sipping their sweet porridge, in the smiles that reappeared on the faces of the villagers, and in every ordinary day in Qingshi Town, filled with warmth.

In this world, there's a kind of youth that doesn't necessarily bloom dazzlingly on a battlefield. It can be hidden in a bowl of steaming porridge, its warmth like a mother's hand, gently caressing everyone's heart; it can be lurking in the marks left by worn leather armor, those fine lace marks that bear witness to the tenacity and perseverance of the female soldiers of the Falcon Squad; it can also be hidden in the simple yet sincere "thank you" from the people, the highest praise for their selfless dedication.

The women of the Falcon Squad, with their simple and unpretentious actions, have carved the word "dedication" into the long river of time, stroke by stroke, like a meticulously crafted work of art. This long river flows endlessly, carrying their sweat and tears, as well as their glory and dreams.

The aroma of that bowl of porridge lingered, seemingly forever. Like a wisp of light, it freely weaved through the branches of the old locust tree, sometimes leaping, sometimes pausing. This fragrance danced gracefully through the streets and alleys near the beehive, like a grand ball, inviting every passerby to share in its beauty. Finally, it slowly drifted into the memories of the people, becoming a touch of warmth in their hearts that they would never forget.

The story of Lin Wei and the female soldiers is like the lingering wisp of smoke from a cooking stove beneath an old locust tree, gently swaying in the breeze of time, telling its story. This story is filled with the passion of youth, the perseverance of life, and the unwavering protection of the lights of thousands of homes.

The aroma of porridge permeates the air, its fragrance lingering. That bowl of porridge, sweetened with the aroma of red dates, is more than just a simple dish; it becomes a symbol, a sign imbued with boundless power. This power, like a quietly flowing warm river, silently nourishes those who yearn for it over the years, and illuminates the path forward for those struggling on life's path.

Recalling the scene of the female soldiers distributing porridge, it was such a touching scene! Yet, now, as the villagers gazed upon the mutilated, naked, cold bodies of these women, anguish surged in their hearts, uncontrollable. Tears streamed down their faces as they recalled the soldiers' voices, faces, and smiles, as if those beautiful memories were present, yet so far away.