He didn’t even know what season it was now. Lately, it had been raining much more than before. From the conversations among his comrades, Brian Clark learned that the rainy season in the northwest had arrived. Before long, snow would start to fall mixed with the rain, and then it would become bitterly cold.

Perhaps due to the rainy season, construction on the straight road had stopped. At this time, the Qin army seemed to have entered a state of hibernation. Except for the necessary rotations to guard the prisoners of war, most of the Qin soldiers were strictly ordered to stay in their tents and not go out without military orders. The social connections Brian Clark had just begun to build were thus abruptly cut off.

During this not-so-special period, the responsibilities of officers seemed to take on a new meaning. The soldiers no longer lined up every day to receive their breakfast and dinner in person; instead, the squad leaders would go with the section leaders to the cooks to collect the food, then distribute it tent by tent to the soldiers. Of course, when receiving their meals, the soldiers would always carefully check to see if anything had been withheld. If they found nothing missing, they would give their superiors a simple or sweet smile.

Perhaps because there wasn’t much dry firewood during the rainy season, the daily flatbread was no longer hot. Without steaming hot vegetable soup to warm their stomachs, being soaked by rain and eating cold food would surely make many people fall ill.

The military life during the rainy season taught Brian Clark another important lesson: restricting soldiers from going out during the rainy season was clearly a measure to prevent illness.

Today, with no rotation duty, Brian Clark originally thought he could stay in his tent and daydream, but reality always seems to go against one’s hopes.

“The quartermaster is feeling generous—hurry and take some men to collect it.”

Edward poked his head into the tent and quickly withdrew, leaving with footsteps dotted with raindrops.

“Hm?” Brian Clark wondered, “Collect? Collect what?”

Although he didn’t understand what was happening, judging by Edward’s delighted expression, it couldn’t be a bad thing.

Observant as always, Brian Clark soon noticed something after leaving the tent: almost every squad leader was leading a few men, each carrying several baskets.

Not only Brian Clark, but almost all Qin soldiers without duties had no rain gear. The rain slapped their cheeks and trickled down their necks, and whenever the wind blew, it made them shiver uncontrollably.

The rain had lasted for a week already. The rainy season was the true test of whether the camp’s roads were up to standard. The soldiers’ paths, trampled constantly, had not turned muddy. The unit’s leader would be pleased with this, as it meant that even in this damned weather, the army’s assembly would not be affected.

Calling over the section leader of his squad and imitating the others by bringing baskets, Brian Clark and his five companions headed to the logistics area where supplies were stored.

There were already many people waiting in line to collect items, and more officers were arriving one after another. Brian Clark noticed many unfamiliar faces, which puzzled him.

He asked a squad leader he didn’t know beside him, “What are we collecting?”

The man answered simply, “Felts!”

Felts? When it was his team’s turn, Brian Clark found that the so-called felts were actually blankets, one and a half meters long and seventy-five centimeters wide.

The blankets were clearly made of coarse linen mixed with animal hair, feeling rough to the touch. They didn’t smell good and felt a bit greasy, though he didn’t know why.

He didn’t know when the drifting rain had stopped, but Brian Clark, soaked to the skin, still didn’t feel warm. The stronger wind only made him feel colder.

He saw that many officers who received blankets immediately draped them over their shoulders. Under the questioning looks of several section leaders, he shook his head: “My clothes are wet. If I put the felt over them, it won’t keep me warm—it’ll just make my body damp and cold. Wait until we get back, take off the wet clothes, and then cover up with the blanket for warmth.”

He wasn’t sure if they understood, but seeing their unconvinced expressions, Brian Clark simply pointed to the crowd shivering with cold even though they were wrapped in several blankets.

“This…” The burly section leader was convinced. “I think that makes sense.”

How could it not make sense? This is basic common knowledge in modern times…

If food was distributed daily or living supplies handed out from time to time, these were arrangements made by senior officers to foster bonds between junior officers and soldiers. Clearly, their intentions had succeeded with Brian Clark.

He didn’t know if other officers withheld food or supplies, but every time he personally handed things to his subordinates, the smiles on the soldiers’ faces made him feel happy and gave him a sense of responsibility he’d never experienced before.

In the days that followed, the rain continued off and on. During his rotation, he would receive a rain cape from his comrades. Compared to the Qin soldiers who had tents to shelter from the rain, the prisoners of war crowded into leaky, dilapidated thatched huts and received little food, living in utter misery. They had no hot meals, no warm clothing, and the cramped, stuffy spaces made many of the weak fall ill. Without treatment, they soon died, and the clothes of the dead were quickly taken by the stronger ones.

During his shifts, Brian Clark did his best to help the prisoners, such as cutting more grass to cover the leaky huts, but there was little he could improve, and people kept falling ill and dying.

Wave after wave of sick and dead prisoners were carted away on wooden wagons to be buried along the straight road. No matter how many times it happened, there was always a sigh from Brian Clark. He felt he was right: the straight road was truly a field of carnage.