Courtyard House: I Rely on Time-Space Trade to Build a Nation

"Literate? Ping An, isn't that a bit...?" Zhao Dongliang frowned, feeling that his younger brother's idea was far-fetched.

Soldiers are just there to earn a living and risk their lives; what good is literacy? It can even breed ulterior motives.

Zhao Desheng scratched his head: "Battalion Commander Zhao, most of the brothers are roughnecks and can't sit still. Besides, the ink, paper, and inkstone..."

"Brother, Battalion Commander Desheng," Zhao Ping'an said, already prepared, "we don't expect them to become scholars."

He only recognizes a few hundred of the most commonly used characters, can write his own name, hometown, and military unit number, and can understand commands such as "advance," "retreat," and "assemble."

For arithmetic, just learn addition and subtraction; being able to count the number of people and calculate the food rations is enough.

Pen and ink? You can draw on the ground with a twig, mix soot from the bottom of a pot with water to make ink, or use the back of waste paper or old account books.

Instructors? We'll do it ourselves. Me, Dazhu, and a few other brothers who studied in private schools for a few years will take turns teaching.

"Just half an hour after training each day is enough."

He paused, looking at the two of them: "Think about it, we have good food and good equipment now."

If we can make the brothers feel that following us will help them improve their skills, even if it's just learning a few words, wouldn't they feel even more hopeful to stay with us?

Will my mind be more stable? And if we need to split up in the future, wouldn't being able to understand simple commands and maps be more useful?

Zhao Dongliang and Zhao Desheng exchanged a glance; what he said made sense.

In chaotic times, giving subordinates a tangible hope for the future, even something as small as literacy, is a wonderful way to win their hearts and minds.

Moreover, Zhao Ping'an spoke simply and practically, focusing entirely on practicality and troop leadership, leaving no room for criticism.

"Give it a try," Zhao Dongliang finally nodded. "But it has to be voluntary, not forced. And don't make it too conspicuous."

"I see."

So, the literacy class was set up in a corner of the camp.

Initially, only a dozen or so curious veterans or those who had suffered from a lack of education and had their pay cuts were accepted.

Zhao Ping'an personally taught the first lesson, focusing on the characters "Zhao," "Ping'an," "Sixth Regiment," "eating," and "brothers."

For this reason, Zhao Ping'an even brought out the "Chinese Pinyin" system, this "magical tool".

He wrote neatly on a blackened wooden board with charcoal, explaining things in a simple and easy-to-understand way, and even making jokes about daily life in the military. The atmosphere quickly became lively.

As the news spread and people saw that they could really learn something and that the content taught was indeed useful, more and more people joined.

Later, they simply divided it into "beginner class" and "advanced class".

Several students, including Dazhu, who had a foundation and learned quickly, also became junior instructors.

At night, around the campfire, groups of three to five soldiers could often be seen gesturing on the ground with twigs, quizzing each other.

The sounds of "Ah (a)", "Bo (b)", "Ci (c)" and "De (d)" echoed throughout the camp, occasionally punctuated by bursts of sudden realization or good-natured laughter.

A subtle change is spreading throughout the camp, not just in terms of learning knowledge, but also in the formation of a collective positive atmosphere.

After the literacy class was on track, Zhao Ping'an launched the storytelling program.

Ostensibly, it was to help the brothers who had worked hard all day to relieve their boredom and liven up the atmosphere.

At first, he told excerpts from "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" and "Water Margin," which the soldiers listened to with great interest.

But soon, he began to guide the conversation selectively. He talked about Yue Fei's army's motto of "rather freeze to death than dismantle houses, rather starve to death than plunder," about how Qi Jiguang rigorously trained his troops and shared weal and woe with them, and about how Zhuge Liang cherished his soldiers and was fair in rewards and punishments.

These stories are compelling in themselves, but when Zhao Ping'an tells them, he always inadvertently emphasizes the fighting power brought about by strict military discipline and the unwavering loyalty earned by treating his soldiers like his own children.

Occasionally, he would share some of his "overseas experiences." He would say:

"I've heard that the German army is incredibly powerful. Why? Not only are their weapons excellent, but more importantly, they have strict discipline, rigorous training, and are meticulous in everything they do."

Every soldier knows what they're supposed to do, like a machine. Or, to put it another way:

"What did American soldiers rely on to sweep across the Pacific? Besides airplanes and artillery, their logistics were truly terrifying; they could even transport ice cream to the front lines."

Do you know what ice cream is? It's made by mixing milk and sugar together, and it tastes just like those milk candies I gave you for self-defense.

After being frozen, it turns into something similar to snow, and it tastes very sweet.

And if they were injured, the fastest boat would take them to the hospital. That's why they dared to fight desperately, knowing they had support behind them.

These stories never directly mention any sensitive words; they simply describe what a "powerful army" should look like.

But those who listen carefully will naturally compare it with their own circumstances.

Why was Yue Fei's army so powerful? Why did Qi Jiguang's army strike fear into the hearts of Japanese pirates? Why were foreign armies so formidable?

Compare this to your past days of hunger, oppression of the people, and exploitation by superiors.

After experiencing the atmosphere of being well-fed and clothed, undergoing rigorous training, and having officers leading the way in learning to read, many soldiers began to have some vague thoughts.

One night while patrolling the camp, Zhao Dongliang overheard several veterans chatting idly while huddled together reviewing new characters.

One person said, "I used to think that being a soldier was just about making a living. If the officer told you to charge, you charged. If you died, so be it."

Now... hey, after recognizing a few words, my head feels completely different.

Another voice said, "Yeah, Platoon Leader... oh no, Battalion Commander Zhao was really into telling the story of Yue Fei! That's what it means to be a real soldier!"

The third one lowered his voice: "I think our Battalion Commander Zhao leads his troops in a way that's a bit like those famous generals in stories... He follows the rules, but he's also genuinely good to us."

Zhao Dongliang walked away silently, his heart filled with mixed feelings.

The younger brother's seemingly insignificant actions are subtly changing the "soul" of the team.

His initial confusion and worry were gradually replaced by a complex emotion.

He saw a different kind of light beginning to flicker in the soldiers' eyes, beyond just warmth and fear—hope, recognition, and even a nascent sense of honor.

This team is becoming less and less like the army he is familiar with, but he can't quite put his finger on the difference; he just feels that it is more powerful and more cohesive.

He returned to the regimental headquarters and saw Zhao Ping'an still writing something under the oil lamp. He went closer to take a look.

It was an outline for tomorrow's "storytelling session," which read, "Wei Qing, Huo Qubing, and the Xiongnu—On the Long-Range Mobility and Logistical Support of Cavalry."

"Ping An," Zhao Dongliang sighed, his tone complex, "your stories... are quite good. The brothers enjoy listening to them and broaden their horizons."

Zhao Ping'an looked up and smiled: "Brother, we're just killing time anyway. It won't hurt to teach the brothers a little more about principles."

It's better than getting together to gamble, brag, and feel homesick.

Zhao Dongliang nodded and said nothing more.