All the Female Protagonists Who Have Been Saved Have Become Obsessed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 54

Chunhua Alley had recently come alive again. A theater troupe from the south had arrived and was performing at the alley’s playhouse, drawing crowds from near and far to join the excitement. With them came a surge of small stalls and vendors, and the stream of visitors seemed endless.

Word was that the troupe’s leader had a striking stage presence and a voice that carried. The moment they stepped into the spotlight, eyes blazing, wealthy young men would shower the stage with money. People sending flowers to the leader could block the streets for two miles out. The locals in the alley passed these stories from ear to ear, and they didn’t seem like mere rumors.

As the gossip spread, it reached the ears of those with keen interest. A military officer, newly stationed in town, was known to love theater. Some opportunist, eager to curry favor, quickly invited the officer to the playhouse with a fawning smile.

These military ruffians—what did they know about theater?

It was only because the world was in chaos that bandits could come down from the hills, wave a flag, and call themselves lords.

Rumor had it this officer’s rank was bought with gold.

People only dared whisper about it, watching as the officer led a group of men, strutting grandly into Chunhua Alley.

The alley’s entrance was narrow, and vendors and shoppers hurriedly stepped aside, though some still caught a lash from a horsewhip.

Inside the alley, after twisting and turning, they passed through a large gate, and the view opened up. There stood an ancient theater stage, its age unknown, already decorated for the occasion. Canopies were set up on either side to block the scorching sun.

The town, with just tens of thousands of people, rarely saw such a proper stage. Everyone treated it as a spectacle, not as grand as the stages in big restaurants or teahouses, but for a single coin, you could sit in the back, sip tea, and enjoy fresh performances. The price was low, the acts were new, and naturally, people loved to come.

The officer arrived just in time. Onstage, gongs and drums sounded, and a graceful flower maiden stepped out from behind the curtain, wielding two spears. She spun them in her hands, twirled once, and stopped center stage. The officer, just settling into his seat, was instantly captivated, forgetting even to order tea, and simply shouted, “Bravo!”

Onstage, Zhou Xi’s eyes seemed fixed, but she was actually scanning the audience below. She asked her system, “Where’s the heroine?”

The system replied, “Right here.”

Zhou Xi sighed helplessly and continued her performance with the troupe, singing and acting as required.

After experiencing two ordinary worlds, the difficulty of this mission world had clearly increased. Her task this time was to assist the heroine in completing her work for the intelligence department.

This was an era of warlord chaos. The heroine had been adopted as a child and later forcibly conscripted with her foster father. Due to her exceptional physical abilities, she was assigned to the intelligence department for critical missions. The system indicated that the heroine would fail here unless Zhou Xi helped her.

The heroine’s mission was to kill the officer who had just sat down.

This officer, known as Third Master, was once a bandit from Jiming Mountain. Following his boss, he’d bought an official rank with gold and now held a legitimate military position. His current goal was to head south to aid allied forces in crushing the warlord faction the heroine served.

The south was embroiled in fierce fighting, and with the crumbling government stirring up trouble, the heroine’s intelligence department had decided to strike first, sending her to assassinate Third Master.

He must not be allowed to join the enemy and bolster their forces.

As Third Master sat down, a tea boy approached with a tea menu. Third Master, barely literate, frowned, but the man who’d accompanied him quickly fawned, “Third Master, I’ll order.” He barked at the tea boy, “Bring your most expensive tea and the best snacks! Hurry!”

The tea boy, hunched over, shuffled off without raising his face or even glancing up—a nobody who didn’t affect Third Master’s mood for the show.

His men roughly shoved the front-row spectators aside, claiming their tables. The displaced audience, seeing the military uniforms, could only swallow their anger and leave in frustration.

Onstage, Zhou Xi continued her performance, still scanning the crowd below. She couldn’t imagine who would dare attempt an assassination in such a setting. Third Master had brought many men—she glimpsed at least ten, filling four or five tables, each armed with a pistol.

Third Master’s lecherous gaze lingered on Zhou Xi. His square face, framed by a thick beard, might have looked respectable, but his sleazy stare betrayed him—no matter how fine his clothes, he’d never pass for nobility. The man beside him, groveling, was introducing the performers.

“That’s the troupe leader, called Flying Flower. Most of the crowd comes just to see her. She’s proud, though—no matter how much money they throw, she only performs once a day. They say her ancestors performed for emperors, which is why she’s so good.”

“Emperors?” Third Master sneered, then stroked his beard with a lewd grin. “Well, aren’t I enjoying what emperors once did?” Their eyes met, and they shared a knowing chuckle.

Third Master watched the flower maiden onstage. Her makeup couldn’t hide her beauty, her figure was exquisite, and her spear work showed real skill. Though he didn’t understand her lines, he could follow her movements and combat, and he shouted “Bravo!” again.

Zhou Xi’s performance lasted only the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, as the spear work required skill. She had just tossed her spears aside and begun singing when she noticed a tea boy passing below, carrying tea and snacks toward Third Master’s table.

The tea boy was part of the troupe, one of the children still training and not yet ready to perform. When things got busy, even non-performing actors helped out. Zhou Xi’s troupe was small, barely sixteen people including the musicians, but she’d never seen this tea boy before.

As she turned, Zhou Xi asked the system, “Is that the heroine?”

The system confirmed, and she breathed a sigh of relief, earning another round of applause with her next move.

As Zhou Xi neared the end of her performance, she grew anxious to stop the heroine. The drums sped up, clanging loudly. Seeing the heroine draw closer to Third Master, Zhou Xi’s heart sank—surely she wasn’t planning to strike now?

The drums continued, and Zhou Xi spun several times onstage, drawing cheers from the crowd. Some even stood in excitement, their eyes fixed on Flying Flower. At that moment, the tea boy neared Third Master, who didn’t spare a glance, his drooling gaze locked on the stage like a dog’s.

This town was too small. His boss had strictly forbidden looting women, and it had been days since Third Master had indulged. The local brothels were filled with the old and sickly, turning his stomach.

As Third Master fantasized, the tea boy—whether from nerves or something else—fumbled, spilling hot tea. Third Master felt a scalding heat on his thigh, and fury surged. He raised his horsewhip, but the tea boy stumbled, knocked into him by a kick from Third Master’s lackey, crashing into his chest.

Third Master opened his mouth to scold, but a sharp pain gripped his abdomen, his face twisting in horror.

He looked down slowly, seeing a knife plunged into his gut, held by the slender tea boy.

The tea boy smirked calmly, twisting the blade to ensure Third Master’s death.

The lackey rushed to support Third Master, pretending to berate the boy. “Can’t even pour tea right? What are you good for?! Third Master, calm down! I’ll deal with him!”

They propped Third Master into his seat. The lackey kicked the tea boy again, and the two were about to slip away when a guard suddenly stepped forward, firing a shot.

“Third Master’s dead!”

Chaos erupted.

Zhou Xi saw the situation spiraling. The enemy had numbers and guns, and they were closing in on the heroine. She signaled to someone at the stage’s edge, hurling a javelin forward. Others pulled down the canopy curtains, and amid screams, the tent collapsed.

Bang! Bang!

Two more shots rang out. Zhou Xi had already left the stage, grabbing the fleeing tea boy.

“Follow me!” Zhou Xi said.

The other looked shocked, stumbling and clutching her shoulder. Zhou Xi realized she’d been shot.

Glancing around, Zhou Xi saw the tent’s dark blue fabric had collapsed, trapping people inside. Her eyes, sharp despite the stage makeup, met the heroine’s strange gaze.

Why was Flying Flower helping her?

Zhou Xi tore the blue fabric in front of them, wrapping it tightly around the heroine’s wound to stop the bleeding, then whispered, “Where are your allies?”

The heroine, Tang Jing, was even more stunned. This mission was supposed to be top secret—how did Flying Flower know?

Seeing Tang Jing stay silent, Zhou Xi grew urgent.

“I can help you escape!”

“Where’s the killer?”

“After them!”

Enemy voices closed in, not far off.

“Boss! Boss!” someone called softly. “We’re ready!”

“Come with me!”

Zhou Xi couldn’t wait any longer. She grabbed Tang Jing’s hand, navigating through the chaos with ease. Outside, the troupe’s carriage was ready, and the performers had already fled. Zhou Xi pulled Tang Jing onto the carriage, where two children sat, grinning. These were the troupe’s real tea boys.

Someone drove the carriage, and it rumbled out of Chunhua Alley.

Third Master had entered through the front gate, which was narrow. But the back gate led to a wide road, big enough for two carriages, right by the city gate, perfect for a quick escape.

Once aboard, the two children deftly removed Zhou Xi’s stage headdress. She untied the straps holding her dramatic makeup, relaxing at last. Dressed only in a white undergarment, she looked at Tang Jing, slumped on the bedding, and said, “I’m Zhou Xi, also the troupe leader, Flying Flower.”

Tang Jing’s gaze lingered on Zhou Xi’s slender shoulders. Flying Flower lived up to her reputation as the town’s celebrated star. Her grace was captivating, even kneeling in the swaying carriage. Her expressive eyes held a charm that recalled her stage roles—each one alluring yet brimming with spirit.

Tang Jing had posed as an ordinary theatergoer, observing for days, and knew Flying Flower well. She’d seen Zhou Xi’s every performance and, despite being a woman, had sometimes been entranced by her singing and movements. But she never imagined Flying Flower would save her.

Tang Jing knew failure meant death, and this mission had seemed a suicide task. She couldn’t fathom why a stranger like the troupe leader would help her.

Zhou Xi’s eyes crinkled with a charming smile.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

“Code name Poison Rose, I’m Night Star of the Ranger Hall.”