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

The night was as dark as ink, and the crackling campfire in the military camp illuminated the makeshift stage. Lin Xiaowan shone like the brightest star in the night sky, radiating dazzling light on this simple stage.

She wore a pomegranate-red dance dress, its hem like a burning flame, swaying with her spins and leaps, fiery and unrestrained. Her dance had lost some of the grace of her previous performance, gaining instead a touch of the unique boldness and untamed spirit of the frontier.

Her movements were unrestrained and flamboyant; every turn was resolute, every leap powerful. Her eyes shone with an untamed light, as if proclaiming her freedom and independence to the world. Her expression shifted between coldness and passion, determination and indulgence, making her elusive and unpredictable.

Her glamorous makeup added to her allure. Her lips were painted with vibrant lipstick, as tempting as ripe cherries; her eyebrows were drawn high and sharp, slender like willow leaves; her eyes were adorned with deep eyeshadow, as mysterious as the starry sky. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, gently brushing against her fair skin, as smooth as silk.

Bathed in the glow of the campfire, Lin Xiaowan's unrestrained movements and expressions, along with her glamorous makeup, created a captivating scene, eliciting cheers from the soldiers below the stage.

Lin Xiaohong's guzheng remained the soul of the stage. She changed to "Guan Shan Yue" (Moon over the Mountain Pass), the music sometimes desolate and distant, like the homesickness of soldiers guarding the frontier; at other times, it was like the clash of swords and the thunder of horses, like a thousand troops galloping in. The strings flew from her fingertips, each note striking precisely at the listener's heart, vividly portraying the grandeur and tragedy of the frontier.

Bai Jie's flute playing also changed from its usual clear and bright tone, playing a tune called "Breaking the Willow Branches," which was melodious and plaintive. Combined with the desolate sound of the guzheng, it added a touch of sorrow and parting, making many soldiers who were homesick quietly tear up.

Lin Xiaoyan's swordplay performance brought the atmosphere to a climax. Dressed in a tight-fitting outfit, her sword flashed, sometimes as swift and unpredictable as a snake flicking its tongue, sometimes as powerful as a tiger descending a mountain. She was no longer merely demonstrating skills, but rather incorporating her sword dance into a miniature narrative, as if telling a story of a bloody battle to defend the city. The final, clean sheathing motion drew cheers from the entire audience.

Lin Xuan's dance was full of exotic charm, passionate and fiery. Her swirling skirt was like a blooming flower, complementing Lin Xiaowan's red dress. One was still, the other was moving; one was strong, the other was gentle, and they complemented each other perfectly.

Bai Mei, who made the grand finale appearance, chose a stirring battle song. Her voice was no longer as melodious as a nightingale's, but full of power and charisma. Her singing pierced the night sky, as if it could awaken the deepest passion in the hearts of the soldiers.

The entire performance was spectacular, even surpassing the previous one. The soldiers watched with rapt attention, clapping along to the rhythm, and a long-lost relaxed atmosphere filled the barracks.

However, in a relatively quiet corner at the back of the crowd, two sharp eyes were fixed on everyone on the stage. They were Zhao Hu, the rebel general who had previously harbored suspicions about Lin Xiaowan and the others, and his shrewd and cunning deputy, Qian Bin.

Zhao Hu crossed his arms, his brows furrowed, and whispered to Qian Bin, "Brother Qian, take a closer look at these women. Is there anything unusual about them? I felt they were extraordinary last time. How could an ordinary music and dance troupe have such poise and skill? Especially the lead dancer Lin Xiaowan and the sword dancer Lin Xiaoyan, there's something in their eyes."

Qian Bin squinted, toying with a wine pouch in his hand, his gaze sweeping over everyone on the stage like a hawk, not missing a single detail. "The general is absolutely right," he said slowly, his voice extremely low. "Look at Lin Xiaowan's dance. It seems graceful, but every turn and leap subtly reveals a soldier's competence and control of power, something no ordinary dancer could achieve. And Lin Xiaoyan's swordsmanship, those few moves just now, 'Sweeping Through a Thousand Armies' and 'Splitting Mount Hua,' are clearly techniques from actual military combat, only she cleverly concealed them within her dance."

He paused, then pointed to Bai Jie, who was playing the flute: "That woman playing the flute has a steady and long breath, and her breathing is quite methodical. She doesn't seem like a weak woman who has been raised in seclusion for many years. And Lin Xiaohong, who is playing the guzheng, did you notice that her fingers, which pluck the strings, have distinct knuckles and faint calluses? That's not something that can be worn out from playing the zither for many years. It's more like... the result of holding some kind of object for many years."

Zhao Hu's eyes sharpened: "Qian Bin, you mean..."

“General,” Qian Bin said with a cold smile, “these women are indeed talented, but their identities are probably not as simple as they claim to be ‘a band displaced by war.’ Their performances seem to cater to our soldiers and boost morale, but upon closer inspection, their dances, swordsmanship, and singing all carry an indescribable inflammatory and…directive quality. Especially Lin Xiaowan, her gaze seems to be interacting with the audience, but in reality, she is secretly observing and gathering information.”

Zhao Hu fell silent. His previous doubts, after Qian Bin's analysis, had become clearer and more concrete. "Then...who exactly are they? What is their purpose in infiltrating our army?"

"The purpose..." A sinister glint flashed in Qian Bin's eyes, "is nothing more than to spy on military intelligence, or... to have a bigger scheme. General, why don't we..." He leaned close to Zhao Hu's ear and whispered a plan.

On stage, Lin Xiaowan seemed to sense something. Her gaze inadvertently swept over the corner where Zhao Hu and Qian Bin were, catching sight of their two gloomy faces. A chill ran through her, but she maintained her perfect smile, a graceful turn concealing the momentary tension. She knew their performance was becoming increasingly captivating, and the suspicions it aroused were deepening. Zhao Hu's personal visit with his deputy clearly indicated he was serious about them. The days to come would likely be anything but easy.

As the music ended, thunderous applause erupted. Lin Xiaowan led the women in a graceful bow, their smiles still radiant, but a tension had subtly tightened in each of their hearts. They had successfully gathered intelligence, but had also attracted their most dangerous enemy. A new contest had silently begun.