Qin An was only sixteen years old this year and served as Qin Hu's personal page. He was very frail and could no longer bear the torment; he looked as though he had only one breath left in him.
In truth, Qin Hu was in little better shape. Over the past few days, the vanguard camp had been marching thirty miles daily, tasked with clearing paths through mountains, building bridges over rivers, cutting firewood, digging trenches, fetching water, and pitching camps.
What kind of situation would it be for these two pampered youths to spend every day among hundreds of rough, burly soldiers?
Chapter 1031