What is life like for soldiers in the army? Brian Clark had never had any concept of it. He had always thought that so-called soldiers should be bold and fearless, ready at any moment to give their lives for some belief. Yet, it seemed that the unit he was in was a little different?

All his impressions of the army came from modern times. His understanding was that a group of men should speak loudly, the kind who would shout at the top of their lungs at the slightest provocation. Some instructor-like figure would occasionally talk to the soldiers about life, ideals, and sacrificing for the country. But it wasn’t like that at all.

What he had seen and heard these past days was an army shrouded in lifelessness—silence, yes, silence. Except when necessary, no one spoke; it was an eerie, unnatural quiet...

None of the officers (including himself) would shout and yell like fools. Anyone who caused a commotion in the camp would be beheaded on the spot. No one ranted like a madman about sacrificing their lives for someone or something (including the country), nor did anyone try to instill such ideas. In fact, when there was no training, it seemed no one wanted to leave their tent; they either slept or stared blankly into space.

There were no passionate speeches, no imagined heroics. No wind, no rain—nothing but sitting in the tent, dazed and idle. Perhaps this was the true nature of the army? No need for excess thought: as swift as the wind, as gentle as the forest, as fierce as fire in attack, as immovable as a mountain.

Perhaps because he was an officer, he had a tent to himself, though it wasn’t large, which only made the monotony and boredom more pronounced. This was Brian Clark’s experience so far.

The Qin army had a strong sense of hierarchy—yes, hierarchy—and it wasn’t just about mealtimes.

Up to now, Brian Clark still hadn’t figured out how high his rank was, or even what he was supposed to do. No one had told him what his duties were.

He only knew that the soldiers respected him—not a formal, superficial respect, but a genuine one. This respect was shown in that whatever he said, the soldiers would do. Sometimes he even suspected that if he ordered them to run naked, they wouldn’t object.

Did he mishear? He snapped out of his daze a little; just now, he seemed to have heard the sound of a horn?

Yes, in movies and TV, the armies of China always used war drums, and only uncivilized savages would use horns, which required no skill. But... the Qin army really did use horns; he had never heard drums, at least not in Brian Clark’s experience.

This was the third time he’d heard the horn. The first time was for a “thousand-man” troop review—three short, long blasts. The second time was when the POWs rioted during the construction of the straight road—three long, long, long blasts. This time...?

“Long? Long? Still long?”

Of course, Brian Clark knew that every army had its own means of communication, and he was sure this meant the POWs were rioting again!

What caused the last POW riot? He didn’t know and didn’t want to know, but he’d heard not many were killed. That wasn’t the Qin army he knew. The Qin soldiers and officers he knew should be ruthless, killing without blinking, slaughtering people like dogs—at least, that’s how it was in movies and TV dramas...

He began to change his facial expression, thinking he should look even more Qin-like than the Qin soldiers—more ferocious, maybe even more so!

Out of boredom, he was already imagining what kind of expression he should use if he had to suppress a riot himself.

“Ta-ta-ta—ta-ta-ta—”

A sound of marching footsteps. Until the footsteps stopped and the tent flap was lifted, Brian Clark’s face remained twisted in a fierce expression. He stared fiercely at the person who suddenly appeared. Maintaining his fierce look but feeling nervous inside for at least five seconds, he finally came to his senses, picked up his longsword without a word, and walked out of the tent. By then, at least fifty soldiers were already lined up in the corridor.

The soldiers wore no armor. They were dressed in gray, tight-fitting robes, holding long spears, standing there expressionless and calm.

Brian Clark had always thought that people in ancient times weren’t tall? He’d assumed his height of over 1.8 meters would be a big advantage, but that wasn’t the case. He found that the average Qin soldier was about 1.7 meters tall, and he often saw soldiers who were two meters tall, most of whom were more muscular than he was.

These men came from different places within the empire, not even from the same commandery or county, let alone the same village. Since they were all strangers, they wouldn’t form cliques or do anything strange to save themselves, which laid the foundation for obedience to military orders.

To the soldiers, Brian Clark fit the image of a basic Qin officer very well. Because he couldn’t speak the language of this era well, he didn’t give many orders. Not knowing his own position, he was even less likely to wander around the camp, always seeming ready to die in his tent if no higher officer gave him orders.

This was exactly the image of a basic Qin officer—not someone who needed social skills like a senior officer, nor someone with lots of ideas like a mid-level officer. A basic officer should be rigid and cold, waiting for orders.

The soldiers seemed very satisfied with the fierce look on their officer’s face. An officer who rarely gave orders and was rumored to be ruthless in battle was always well-liked by his subordinates.