Too many female prisoners, a special forces soldier transmigrates and marries wildly.

The atmosphere in Shuofeng City grew more tense day by day.

With grain prices soaring and rumors spreading, one could always see pale-faced people and hurried soldiers on the streets.

But life goes on, especially for those powerless common people. War and border troubles seem to be distant and vague backgrounds, while the daily necessities of life are the most important thing.

In the west of the city, "Xu's Congee Shop" is a rare place where a trace of life still remains amidst this somber atmosphere.

The shop is small, with only four or five square tables with peeling paint. A large pot of steaming hot porridge of varying thickness is set up at the entrance.

The proprietress, Granny Xu, was a kind-hearted widow. Seeing the food shortage in the city and the many poor families and migrants who had run out of food, she gritted her teeth and cooked several extra pots of thin porridge every day, selling it at a very low price to those who were truly desperate, sometimes even for free. As a result, this small porridge stall became a daily destination for some of the city's poor and displaced people.

Lin Feng, accompanied by Lao Dao and two other close associates, disguised themselves as ordinary merchants and walked along the rather deserted West Market Street.

He was ordered to secretly investigate clues about the "Shadow Hawk" mole in the city. After several days, he visited many places that might be related to black market transactions and intelligence transmission, but with little success. The other party seemed extremely cautious, hiding even more deeply under the tense atmosphere.

"Captain, we've been searching for most of the day and haven't found a single thing. The brothers have been watching a few suspicious spots, but there's been no movement either. Could it be that those bastards know we're investigating and are hiding their heads?" Old Dao lowered his voice, the scar on his face looking somewhat ferocious in the bleak afternoon sunlight.

Lin Feng frowned slightly, his gaze slowly sweeping over the shops and pedestrians on both sides of the street.

Indeed, the patrols over the past few days had yielded little more than the arrest of a few thugs who had taken advantage of the chaos to pickpocket and two suspected peddlers who were reselling military rations. Could it be that "Shadow Hawk's" network in Shuofeng City had shifted or gone into hiding after the fall of Flying Eagle Pass? Or was the mole deeper in hiding than he had imagined?

"No rush. A fox will always show its tail eventually. The calmer things are, the more suspicious it is," Lin Feng replied in a low voice. His gaze casually swept over an old beggar huddled under the eaves at the street corner, dressed in thin clothes, and then looked at a few idle men whispering together in the distance, but he didn't notice anything unusual.

As we walked, the aroma of food mingled with a faint smell of firewood wafted over.

Lin Feng looked up and saw the sign for "Xu's Congee Shop".

A short queue stretched out in front of the shop, mostly consisting of emaciated women, children, and the elderly, with one or two homeless people whose eyes seemed numb. A waiter dressed in coarse cloth was busy serving porridge to those in line, his movements swift and efficient.

Lin Feng intended to walk straight past, but his gaze was inadvertently drawn to a figure in the corner of the porridge shop.

It was a woman sitting in the innermost seat against the wall.

She wore a faded, coarse cloth dress with several patches of the same color, and a worn blue headscarf covered most of her face, revealing only her delicate chin and a small section of her fair neck. Her attire was no different from the poor women and homeless women around her, perhaps even more simple and shabby. But for some reason, Lin Feng felt something was different about her.

She sat up straight.

Even in this simple, noisy porridge shop, even in her tattered clothes, her posture remained naturally graceful and upright, unlike the casually hunched posture of ordinary women. She sipped the thin porridge, barely containing any rice grains, slowly and carefully, as if savoring a delicacy rather than a meager meal. The exposed section of her neck, with its delicate and smooth skin, was almost dazzlingly white in the dim light of the shop.

Moreover, she was very quiet. Most of the diners around her were talking in hushed tones, sighing, or complaining about the current situation, but she alone remained as quiet as a painting, completely out of place. Occasionally, someone in line would glance at her, but only for a brief moment before looking away. In this walled city where everyone was on edge, who had the leisure to pay special attention to an inconspicuous, impoverished woman?

But Lin Feng noticed it.

It wasn't because of her appearance—he hadn't seen her face clearly—but rather her indescribable aura. It was a refined tranquility that permeated her very being, so different from the harsh environment, like a white lotus quietly blooming in the mud, unassuming yet possessing its own unique beauty.

Is she a refined young lady who has fallen on hard times and ended up here? Or... does she have ulterior motives?

A sense of vigilance flashed through Lin Feng's mind. In these extraordinary times, any unusual behavior should be taken seriously.

He paused slightly, gave Old Dao a wink, and whispered, "You guys go wait for me at the tea stall in front, I'll go check it out."

Following Lin Feng's gaze, Lao Dao also saw the woman. Although he wasn't as observant as Lin Feng, he also felt that the woman seemed a bit too "clean," somewhat out of place with her surroundings. He nodded, and with another follower, casually walked forward, sat down at a tea stall not far away, ordered two bowls of coarse tea, but his eyes were subtly watching the porridge shop.

Lin Feng straightened his ordinary cotton long gown and walked to the entrance of the porridge shop.

When the waiter serving the porridge saw a reasonably well-dressed "customer" arrive, he immediately put on a smiling face: "Sir, would you like a bowl of hot porridge to warm yourself up? Our porridge is a bit thin, but there's plenty for everyone, only two coins a bowl!"

Lin Feng took out two copper coins and handed them over, but his eyes were glancing into the shop.

The woman seemed to sense that someone was watching her. She tilted her head slightly and covered her face more tightly with her headscarf, revealing only a beautifully curved profile and a small, delicate ear. She quickened her pace of eating her porridge, as if she wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"Give me a bowl, I'll drink it here." Lin Feng took a large, rough porcelain bowl filled with thin porridge that was almost reflective. He walked to the empty table diagonally opposite the woman and sat down, where he could see her clearly without being too abrupt.

He picked up the bowl, pretending to drink porridge, but his eyes were carefully scrutinizing the woman opposite him through the rim of the bowl.

The closer you get, the stronger the sense of incongruity becomes. Although her fingers are a little dusty, they are slender and long, with neatly trimmed nails—definitely not the hands of an ordinary woman who does rough work. When she drinks her porridge, her little finger is slightly raised, a long-cultivated, unconscious habit of deportment. Also, although she wears the coarsest clothes, the collar and cuffs are starched clean, and even the patches are neatly sewn with fine and even stitches.

This is not an ordinary refugee or a poor girl.

She had a certain air about her that came from a well-educated upbringing, perhaps even from being raised in a wealthy environment, though she tried her best to hide it.

The woman seemed to sense Lin Feng's gaze and appeared somewhat uneasy. She hurriedly finished the last few mouthfuls of porridge, took out two copper coins from her sleeve, placed them on the table, stood up, lowered her head, and quickly walked out of the shop.

As she passed by Lin Feng's table, a very faint, almost imperceptible, elegant fragrance wafted by. It was unlike any perfume or cosmetic, but rather like the scent of some kind of crisp grass mixed with the aroma of sunshine. In this shop filled with the smells of porridge, sweat, and dust, it stood out exceptionally clearly and uniquely.

Lin Feng's doubts deepened. He put down his almost untouched bowl of porridge, nodded to the waiter, and got up to follow him out.

After leaving the porridge shop, the woman did not head towards the dilapidated temple or shack area in the west of the city where refugees gathered. Instead, she followed the alley and turned into a more secluded residential area.

She walked briskly, seemingly quite familiar with the alleyways, deliberately choosing less crowded paths, occasionally glancing back, showing a high level of vigilance.

Lin Feng followed at a distance that was neither too close nor too far, using the street debris as cover, his figure appearing and disappearing in the long, slanting afternoon light and shadow.

Having received specialized tracking training, it was naturally easy for him to follow a weak woman who knew no martial arts but was somewhat alert.