Qin An was only sixteen years old this year and served as Qin Hu's personal page. Naturally frail, he was already worn to a shadow by the torment, looking 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, gathering firewood, tending fires, digging trenches, hauling water, and pitching camp.
What kind of treatment would two tender, delicate young men receive when forced to live among several hundred rough, foul-mouthed soldiers every single day?
Chapter 359