Qin An was only sixteen years old this year and served as Qin Hu's personal page. He was very frail, could no longer bear the torment, and looked as though he had only one breath left.
In truth, Qin Hu was not much better off. Over the past few days, the vanguard camp had been marching thirty miles daily, tasked with clearing paths through mountains and building bridges across rivers, cutting firewood and stoking fires, digging trenches and fetching water, and pitching camps.
And what kind of situation would these two pampered young fellows face every day, cooped up with hundreds of rough, burly soldiers?
Chapter 761