Qin An was only sixteen years old this year and served as Qin Hu's personal page. Being frail and sickly, he could no longer endure the torment and 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 Battalion had marched thirty miles each day, tasked with clearing paths through mountains, building bridges over rivers, gathering firewood, fetching water, digging trenches, and setting up camp.
What kind of situation awaited two delicate, pampered youths forced to spend every day among hundreds of rough, burly soldiers?
Chapter 464