Chapter Thirty-Three: Lives as Insignificant as Ants

Ma Yuan was assigned to the Fifth Division. Liu Shishi, naturally, could not participate. To Ma Yuan’s surprise, Wang Xian was assigned to his same division, while Xiang Ting was placed in the Second.

The students of the Fifth Division were ordered to the southwest corner of Huizhou City. This sector was the site of the main battle for the defense of Huizhou—the most brutal, high-intensity front where the enemy’s assault was strongest; other areas faced far less intense fighting.

The main battlefield was manned by third-year seniors, experienced students whose survival odds were significantly higher. For these seniors, who were on the verge of graduation and about to enter military service, this was meant to be a trial by fire, though one that could very well cost them their lives.

Ma Yuan followed the main force. The leader of the Fifth Division was Xu Ze, a soldier from the Imperial Guard whose weather-beaten face spoke of countless battles.

"Listen up, you are all still students who haven't left school yet," Xu Ze said, his tone icy. "I didn’t want to lead you, but these are orders from above, so I must comply. Let me be clear: if anyone fails to follow my orders and ends up dead, it is your own fault. Is that understood?"

Ma Yuan chanted to himself, *Do not shake, do not shake. Stay calm when you reach the battlefield.* Most of the students around him shared the same sentiment; after all, it was their first time on the front lines, and simply suppressing the primal terror was a monumental task.

Under Xu Ze’s command, the students of the Fifth Division moved through the narrow alleys of Huizhou toward the front. Along the way, the ground was littered with the corpses of Huizhou’s defenders. The pungent scent of blood overwhelmed the students' senses. Their faces turned deathly pale, and they gasped for air, lost and mechanical, focused only on following the person in front to avoid falling behind.

Xiang Ting pushed over, forcing a grin in a display of feigned calm. "Ma Yuan, I regret this. But I don’t want Zeng Hui-xiang to look down on me. It’s quite the contradiction."

Ma Yuan glanced at him, but noticed Xiang Ting’s face was an eerie, ghastly white. It unsettled Ma Yuan, leaving him unable to find the words to respond.

Unbothered, Xiang Ting continued to himself, "I don't know what we'll face here, but I swear, I’m never coming back to a place like this again. Never."

As they spoke, a shout rang out from the front. The noise was chaotic, and Ma Yuan didn't catch the words, but seeing the soldiers ahead dive to the side, he immediately scrambled toward a nearby embankment.

A deafening roar erupted, followed by a massive cloud of dust that surged toward him. Ma Yuan trembled; the falling debris nearly buried him alive. Before he could recover from the shock of the blast, someone grabbed him and hauled him up, shouting, "Quick! Get up! Move forward! There are wounded ahead, hurry!"

Dazed, Ma Yuan allowed himself to be dragged forward. He helped lift someone onto a stretcher, then turned and began moving against the flow of the crowd toward the rear.

Shellfire continued to rumble nearby. Dust hung thick in the air, tasting of ash and smoke, stinging his nostrils and causing a dull, throbbing pain in his head. Wounded students lay in the trenches, their faces twisted in agony, but those passing by did not stop. In their eyes, rescuing the soldiers was the only priority.

Ma Yuan eventually reached the rear. It was crowded with the wounded, and he caught glimpses of medical students weaving through the chaos. Their youthful faces had lost all traces of joy, replaced by profound exhaustion.

"Hey, brother, you okay?" A soot-covered stranger he didn't recognize shoved him, then turned and rushed back toward the battlefield without waiting for an answer.

Ma Yuan shook his head vigorously, wiped the grime from his face, and took a deep breath. He suppressed his fear, his eyes hardening with resolve, and turned to sprint back into the fray.

The operation lasted nearly three hours. When Ma Yuan hauled the final casualty to the field hospital, he collapsed onto the ground. He accepted a cup of water from someone, drank it in long, desperate gulps, and sat staring at the people moving around him, lost in thought.

After the battle concluded, the Imperial Guard tallied the casualties. They had lost over a thousand men, and the Huizhou city defenders had suffered heavily as well. More than a hundred students had been lost, left behind on the battlefield forever. Most were third-years, having been sent to the most brutal sector of the main defense.

Yet, there was no time for grief. The Imperial Guard received word that in a few hours, the enemy would launch an even fiercer assault on Huizhou.

During the brief respite, Ma Yuan and the other students lay exhausted in the trenches, surrounded by the fires of war. Under the sun’s glare, the scene felt all the more tragic.

Soon, accompanied by the low, rhythmic thumping of artillery, the Imperial Guard began to charge toward the front of Huizhou City once more, never looking back. The students, too, returned to the battlefield after a short while to continue rescuing the wounded.

Ma Yuan followed Xu Ze back to the front. Having experienced the previous relief efforts, his nerves had dulled; he no longer felt the urge to vomit at the sight of blood and had accepted the cruelty of the battlefield with a cold, numb detachment.

He and another student were lifting a wounded man, preparing to head to the rear, when someone screamed, "Get down! Quick, move!"

Ma Yuan didn't hesitate, diving for cover. A massive explosion followed, and a wave of earth buried him. Half-entombed, he faintly heard voices calling, "Is anyone alive? Is anyone still alive?"

He struggled to claw his way out, gasping for fresh air, heedless of the dirt on his face as he searched for the man he had been helping. But he quickly realized that both the wounded man and the student who had been helping him had been obliterated.

Ma Yuan stood frozen in shock until Xu Ze stormed over and struck him, snapping him out of his trance.

"What do you think you're doing?" Xu Ze roared, spittle flying onto Ma Yuan’s face, but Ma Yuan didn't even notice.

Xu Ze stared him down, shouting, "Is there anything worth crying over? Now, pick up the wounded and move! Move! Did you hear me?"

Ma Yuan’s heart hammered against his ribs, but he immediately turned to lift another casualty and headed toward the rear.