In the seventeenth year of the Kaihuang era, I wrote my will in the examination hall.

A touch of sadness and worry carried away the initial excitement that Yang Yan felt upon first seeing the ancient military formation.

He turned to look at his father, Yang Yong, who was still in high spirits beside him. His expression shifted perfectly, revealing the unique look of a young man towards the unknown, a mixture of timidity and burning curiosity.

"Father, the changes in the five-colored command flags are truly exquisite. However, I have a question: what subjects does an ordinary soldier train in on a daily basis? Compared to the Imperial Guards stationed in the capital, what is the emphasis of their training?"

Yang Yong's smile froze.

How...how could he know these things?

He was the crown prince of the Sui Dynasty, the future ruler of the world. He usually interacted with strategists like Gao Jiong and Su Wei, discussing state affairs and appreciating the elegant and profound poems and essays of literati.

As for the lowest-ranking soldiers, they would get up at the turn of dawn and run several miles every day. At dawn, they would practice archery or crossbows. At noon, they would practice square formations or circular formations. He never cared about these trivial details that were buried in the soil and sweat, and no minister would ever treat them as serious matters and report them to the Crown Prince's desk.

"This..." Yang Yong's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, his eyes darted around, and he stammered, trying to scrape together a few decent words from his meager military knowledge.

"Command flags are the essence of military formation and deployment. As for the specific drills... they are nothing more than the advance and retreat of ranks, archery and horsemanship, and long-range weapon parrying..."

The more he spoke, the lower his voice became, and the weaker his voice seemed. A faint blush gradually rose on his pampered, fair-skinned face.

As if eager to escape this embarrassing question and answer, he yanked hard on the reins.

The powerful steed beneath him, which came from the Western Regions, snorted in dissatisfaction and pawed the ground restlessly with its front hooves.

"Looking at it from afar is like scratching an itch through a boot; you can't see it clearly!" Yang Yong's voice suddenly rose, regaining some of his princely demeanor. "Come on, Yan'er, let's go down and see it up close!"

A brilliant tactical evasion.

"How can one achieve anything by merely scratching the surface?" Yang Yan sighed almost inaudibly to himself, but his face remained obedient and respectful as he nimbly dismounted.

The few strokes of history have already clearly illustrated my father's character.

He is fond of extravagance and literary talent, prioritizing strategic vision over practical details. Seeing it for myself today, I can confirm it is exactly as described.

Just then, a clear and steady voice rang out at just the right moment, instantly dispelling the silence between father and son.

"Reporting to His Highness the Crown Prince and His Highness the Prince of Changning."

The father and son looked in the direction of the sound at the same time.

A young general in silver armor stepped forward and bowed.

He was in his early twenties, with a tall and straight figure, handsome face, and clear, bright eyes that were as deep as a cold pool, exuding a sharp and intelligent aura.

His posture was extremely respectful, impeccably standard, yet without the slightest hint of the awkwardness or obsequiousness that a low-ranking military officer might display when facing royalty.

Yang Yong seemed to have grasped a lifeline, and the composure and demeanor befitting a crown prince quickly returned.

He sat upright on his horse, slightly raised his chin, and asked in his usual authoritative tone, carrying a sense of distance: "Who are you? What is your position here? You will explain things to the Prince of Changning. If you do a good job, I will reward you handsomely!"

The young officer bowed again, his voice calm and even: "Your Highness, it is my turn to be on duty today, responsible for patrolling and guarding the nearby garden walls."

Yang Yan's gaze, like that of a craftsman who has discovered a rough gem, was fixed on the young general.

Instead of repeating the embarrassing question about training subjects that had embarrassed his father, he pointed directly to a troop of soldiers at the far end of the training ground, who were slowly changing formation according to their flags, and posed a more tricky and pointed question.

"Just now, the garrison troops changed formation as ordered, and their overall coordination seemed to be more than a beat slower than the adjacent Imperial Guard formation."

"In your opinion, is this problem due to the overly complicated flag signals and drumbeats used in the army, making it difficult for soldiers to become familiar with them, or is it because... the rotation system between soldiers and officers already creates a sense of 'distancing'?"

The four words "a sense of estrangement" were not loud, but they made the young general, who had always kept his head down, suddenly raise his eyelashes!

He originally thought that this was just the Crown Prince's whim, taking the young prince to visit the Forbidden Garden and watch martial arts for fun, and that he was just asking casually.

But to everyone's surprise, this seemingly frail and young Prince Changning had such a sharp eye, like an old official judging a case!

His words pinpointed the most common, stubborn, and yet most ingrained problem in the military training system—a problem that officers at all levels had become accustomed to and even ignored!

He quickly composed himself and calmly bowed, replying, "Your Highness's insight is astute. In my humble opinion, there are three reasons for this problem."

"Firstly, as Your Highness said, the flag signals and drum signals in the army are complex and require time to memorize."

"Secondly, the Fubing (府兵) are different from the Imperial Guards. They follow the 'rotation' system, with frequent shifts. There is still a lack of tacit understanding between comrades and between officers and soldiers."

"Thirdly, and this is the root of the problem—" He raised his voice slightly, his tone revealing a confident understanding of the essence of the matter.

"The soldiers of the Fubing (府兵) are both farmers and soldiers. They farm in peacetime and serve as soldiers in wartime. Their training focuses on 'building up strength' in preparation for large-scale conquests by the dynasty. On the other hand, the Imperial Guards are always on standby and specialize in combat skills, focusing on 'sharpness' to respond to changes in the capital region. The two have different purposes, so their training methods are naturally worlds apart."

"What a perfect combination of 'building momentum' and 'sharp edge'."

Upon hearing this, Yang Yan inwardly praised, "Beautiful!"

This answer not only explained the phenomenon but also pointed out the underlying institutional logic.

But this is not enough.

His knowledge of modern organizational management instantly combined with the ancient military system before him, and a deeper question came to his lips.

"The 'rotation system' established to prevent generals from becoming too powerful and holding too much military influence is indeed a strategy of the emperor to strengthen the central government and weaken local power."

"But while this lock restrains the ambitions of generals, has it also become a 'systemic lock' hindering battlefield cohesion?"

"An army with inexperienced soldiers and slow coordination, even if it numbers in the millions, how much fighting power can it have on a real battlefield?"

"And if the Imperial Guards practice martial arts every day without ever being shed blood, won't that 'sharpness'... eventually become nothing more than a 'mirage' that's only good for show?"

"The shackles of the system... a mirage..."

Yang Yong, who was standing to the side, seemed to understand but not quite. He felt that these words and phrases were incompatible with the governing strategies or poetic language he was familiar with, and he couldn't help but frown slightly.

The young officer silently ground those words between his lips.

When he looked up again, the last trace of his formulaic submissiveness had vanished from his eyes. In its place was the sharp glint of a tiger eyeing a deep mountain or a strategist meeting a kindred spirit—a glint of shock, excitement, and extreme awe.

He saw it clearly. This young prince wasn't asking about specific military drills at all.

He questioned the deep-seated contradictions of the imperial military system and examined the fundamental gains and losses of the national armament system.

These few words have touched upon the core of the eternal, unsolvable, yet unavoidable, dilemma in military development under centralized power: the balance between "efficiency and checks and balances" and "combat readiness and stability maintenance."

This...this is truly the vision and courage of a sixteen-year-old prince living deep within the palace?

And the question was directed at someone as insignificant as himself, a military officer patrolling the garden.