He simply stayed there in silence, doing everything he could, while his mind inexplicably turned to the dreams he had had.
Those dreams that felt somewhat familiar to him, and the emotions he had felt within them, all seemed rather affected, even utterly laughable, in the face of everything he was experiencing before him.
At that moment, he remembered when he had asked his senior what war was.
Back then, his senior had worn an expression he could not understand as he told him, "War is something bad, something that makes people regret, but something certain things must go through."
Even now, Xiao An still could not truly understand what those words meant, but he looked at everything before him, felt the dried blood on his hands, and saw the expressions of the wounded lying in their hospital beds.
Xiao An felt a complicated emotion well up inside him. Perhaps, to him, the word "war" had already moved beyond what he had first imagined, presenting itself before his eyes in this most realistic of scenes.
But he still could not truly grasp the real face of this thing called war. After all, everything he saw before him was only one of its gentler corners.
Yet Xiao An felt he could understand a little of the expression Huo Yuhao had worn when he had said those words to him. It was an indescribable feeling, an expression of struggle.
And he thought again of those dreams he had had. The indistinct words and images within them began to stir a strange emotion against the scenes he now saw before him.
Xiao An did not know why, but he seemed to feel an instinctive aversion to those dreams from deep within his soul.
He did not know where this feeling came from. He