"It's okay; I'm not so delicate," An Zhihang said, though he had a gentle appearance and a high position. Right from his childhood, Old Master An and An Zisheng had thrown him and An Zhiyan into the military to rough it out. Getting hurt was just part of the daily routine. Hence, even though An Zhihang was the heir to a major family, he wasn't a spoiled second-generation rich kid; instead, he was quite capable in combat.
"President, what should we do now?" The assistant finished organizing the leftover things, pressed into a crack in the door, and looked outside with concern.
