Qin An was only sixteen years old this year and served as Qin Hu's personal page. He was frail and sickly, already worn to the bone by the relentless torment, and now 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 carving roads through mountains, bridging rivers, gathering firewood, stoking fires, digging trenches, fetching water, and pitching encampments.
What could two pampered, delicate young men expect when thrown together with hundreds of rough, burly soldiers day in and day out?
Chapter 426