Qin Dynasty: Who offended my frail and sickly minister?

Next, only Wang Ben was left.

To be honest, Zhou Wenqing struggled for a long time about what to give Wang Ben.

This fierce general, later known as the one who "single-handedly destroyed four kingdoms," was different from Meng Tian. Meng Tian relied on horseback archery to defend against the Xiongnu, while he was able to analyze the most suitable weapons.

But Wang Ben...

Zhou Wenqing searched through his memories but couldn't find any record of what weapon he usually used.

Knife? Gun? Halberd? Spear?

It seemed like either option would work, yet none of them were necessarily his most suitable choice, so Zhou Wenqing dared not make a rash move.

However, one thing is certain: this master of destroying a country was extremely flexible in tactics and was known for his strategy and efficiency.

So...

He snapped out of his thoughts and his gaze fell on the last piece of wood... Hey, where's my box?

The table and wooden box that should have been in sight were completely blocked by a broad back.

Zhou Wenqing was startled: "When did you get behind me?!"

Wang Ben had moved to the table at some point and was standing there, staring intently at the last wooden box, his hands itching to move, clearly impatient.

"Hehe!" He grinned, a smile exactly like his father's. "It's my turn, Uncle Zhou, can I open it now?"

Zhou Wenqing: "..."

You still remembered to ask after all that, you're quite polite.

He waved his hand dismissively, saying with annoyance, "Go ahead, go ahead, but wipe your mouth first. I'm afraid you'll drool on your head!"

Wang Ben couldn't wait any longer. He could clearly see that of all the boxes on the table, his was the largest.

Wang Ben reached out with both hands and lifted the box, but almost used too much force and flipped himself over.

Wang Ben quickly steadied himself, holding the box in both hands and weighing it in his hands. "How come...it's so light?"

Zhou Wenqing smiled without saying a word, but simply raised his chin, gesturing for him to open it.

Wang Ben carefully lifted the box lid—

The box contained no weapons he had imagined, no heavy iron objects, only a book, two bulging cloth bags, one large and one small, and a neatly folded... sheepskin chessboard.

He picked up the book first.

The book is bound with brand-new manuscript paper, and five neat Qin seal characters are written on the cover:

The Thirty-Six Stratagems

Wang Ben was stunned.

He opened the cover, and the first line caught his eye: "Crossing the sea under cover of darkness—when preparations are thorough, vigilance is relaxed; what is commonplace is not suspected."

He looked down and saw dense annotations and battle examples, all written neatly and clearly, stroke by stroke.

"Uncle Zhou, this is..."

"The Art of War." Zhou Wenqing picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Thirty-six strategies, six for each of winning, fighting the enemy, attacking, fighting in chaos, fighting side by side, and losing. These are the culmination of the life's work of several... selfless predecessors, and are extremely valuable. I happened to have read through a fragment of the scroll and then silently memorized it."

He paused, looking into Wang Ben's bright eyes, his tone becoming more serious:

"It's up to you. How much you can see, remember, and use depends on your ability."

Hopefully, this book, which he has spent a lot of effort in the system space to replace the battle examples, add annotations, and reorganize the Thirty-Six Stratagems, can help this "general who has just come of age".

Seeing Wang Ben's eyes light up as if he had found a treasure, Zhou Wenqing added a comment in his mind.

Sun Tzu, Wu Qi, Sun Bin, Han Xin, Cao Cao, Zhuge Liang, Li Jing, Yue Fei... all my predecessors, I apologize for any offense.

I'd like to borrow your wisdom for a moment, regarding the copyright fee...

Luckily, I came up with the papermaking technique in advance. I'll burn it for you all later!

But then I thought, if those predecessors who painstakingly wrote these words knew that their wisdom could help the Qin cavalry conquer the six kingdoms and unify the world, they probably wouldn't blame him for "plagiarism." Instead, they would stroke their beards, smile, and nod in agreement.

"Take it; it was originally intended for those who wish to end war."

He put away this distracting thought and raised his head.

The two old generals were much more restrained this time. They loved it, but they didn't try to snatch it openly like before.

"Master Zhou...?" Wang Jian rubbed his hands together, tentatively speaking, even his form of address unconsciously becoming more polite. "This military treatise... may I take a look at it?"

"Of course." Zhou Wenqing gestured for him to make himself at home. "If General Wang doesn't mind, Wang Ben can make a copy for you to peruse."

He spoke politely, but he knew perfectly well what was going on—for an old general like Wang Jian who had fought all his life, military strategy had long been a system in itself, and this book was probably not as useful as it was for a young person.

but……

Upon hearing this, Wang Ben instantly became alert, clutching the book protectively to his chest and glaring intently at his father:

"Did you hear that? Uncle Zhou said he asked me to copy one for you! Don't even think about taking it from me after I've finished reading it!"

Wang Jian was both amused and annoyed by his gaze, and his mustache twitched: "Hey! I'm your father, what's wrong with taking a look?"

"One glance is fine, but two glances are not!" Wang Ben retorted, "Do you think I don't know your eyes? You think you can just steal it after one look!"

"Hey! What did you say, you unfilial son? You've gone too far!" Wang Jian was so angry that he blew his beard and glared at his son, his beard standing on end. He raised his hand to hit him.

Zhou Wenqing couldn't tell how many times he had sighed or how many fights he had broken up with that day.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" He slammed his finger on the table, his face stern. "This is a restricted area of ​​the study. No fighting or noise is allowed. Violators will be—"

He thought for a moment, then said in a chilling tone, "Don't even think about taking anything out of my study again."

As soon as he finished speaking, the study became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not only Wang Jian and his companion, but also Meng Wu and the others who were eager to make a move behind them, instantly turned into stone statues.

My ears are finally at peace.

Zhou Wenqing nodded in satisfaction; they could finally continue.

He cleared a large space on the table and beckoned to Wang Ben: "Isn't there something else in that box of yours? Take it out and let me see."

Wang Ben then remembered that there were other things in the box.

He first took out the neatly folded sheepskin and spread it out on the table.

It really does resemble a chessboard, neatly drawn with ink lines, except for the numbers marked on the edges.

He then untied the ribbons of the large cloth bag and reached inside...

"This..." Wang Ben withdrew his hand, rubbed it between his fingertips, and looked completely bewildered. "Uncle Zhou, is this sand?"

The cloth bag was clearly filled with fine sand.

Zhou Wenqing reached out and took it, pinched up a handful of sand, and let the fine stream fall through his fingers into the center of the sheepskin chessboard, quickly forming a small sand pile.

"Sand?" He smiled. "Yes and no."

He flattened the sand pile with his palm, then grabbed a handful and began to shape it on the flat sand surface. As his fingers flew across the sand, a slightly raised ridge meandered out from west to east.

"Xianyang is here." Zhou Wenqing pointed to a spot slightly west of the center of the sand dune, then took the smaller cloth bag from Wang Ben's hand, took out a small black flag from it, and gently stuck it in the marked spot.

He grabbed another handful of sand and piled it up in the southeast direction of "Xianyang" to form an undulating area: "This is Mount Li."

A black stone falls.

Then, he traced a curved groove in the sand with his finger, going around "Xianyang" from the west and extending northeast: "The Wei River comes from the west, passes north of Xianyang, and flows eastward."

The eyes of the people surrounding the table gradually widened as they craned their necks to look ahead. Zhang Han and Meng Yi, the two younger ones, even squatted down in front of the table, bringing their eyes level with the sand.

Zhou Wenqing then took out several ceramic pellets of different sizes from the cloth bag—some black, some white, some coarse, and some fine.

He pressed the three small white pills onto the sand dune west of "Xianyang": "This is Zhangtai Palace."

He then took two more black pills and placed them on the north side of "Xianyang": "This is Xianyang Palace, and this side is the city and residential area."

Finally, he pinched up a small handful of fine sand and piled it up in a far place to the east of "Xianyang," creating a small, almost imperceptible bump.

“Here,” he pointed to the pitifully small sand dune, “is Hangu Pass.”

"This..." Wang Ben looked up, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Uncle Zhou, you... you put the mountains and rivers into a box?"

Zhou Wenqing did not answer, but simply held a white chess piece between his fingertips and gently placed it on the west side of "Xianyang", then slowly moved it eastward.

The chess piece crossed the sand dunes, stepped over the grooves, and finally stopped in front of the small protrusion representing Hangu Pass.

After finally settling in, Zhou Wenqing patted the fine sand off his hands and then tapped the markings on the edge of the sheepskin box:

"Let me tell you, each square on this map corresponds to one li (approximately 500 meters) on the ground. If you discover that there is an enemy attacking outside Hangu Pass, how should you report this to your commander?"

Wang Ben stared at the sand table, gesturing as he blurted out, "Enemy troops have been spotted thirty li outside Hangu Pass. There are mountains and a river here. If the enemy comes from the east, they will surely pass through this route..."

He suddenly stopped, turned his head sharply to look at Zhou Wenqing, and his breathing became a little rapid.

"Uncle Zhou, this picture...this item..."

"Sand table, how is it? Does it still feel light?"