In the past, when I was studying art with my master, I read a lot of miscellaneous books.

From astronomical geography, see electrician welding.

Among them, there is a folk rubbing, which has been lost, called "Ten Rules of Strange Soldiers".

This talks about the essentials of hiding soldiers in the deep mountains - far stone piles, pro-river; Occupy half of the slope and send surprise soldiers.

In fact, this layout is contrary to "The Art of War".

According to common sense, the arrangement of troops should be in front of the river and behind the mountain, there is a block in front and a road in the back, both offensive and defensive, and can advance and retreat.

And in the mountains, close to the river, in order to hide in the crisis.

Stay away from the rocks because the target is too large and easy to be targeted.

As for being in Banpo, it is easier to understand, but anyone with a normal brain will not choose a position that is not up or down.

What the enemy ignores is often our opportunity.

This kind of lost ancient book is not as famous as other art of war, and it is extremely practical.

On this occasion, I am especially grateful to my Master.

Soon, I divided the eight people into three groups.

The old horse knows the number of roads, and the old man is sophisticated.

The older ones can help me see the six roads when I go halfway up the mountain.

The young, in good physical condition, hide in the weeds on the side of the road, ready to launch a surprise attack at any time.

The last group hid halfway up the mountain, acting as a mobile unit, ready to support at any time.

All signals are subject to the wolf whistle.

Several people went step by step, and each of them took their own orders.

"That's good."

When I turned around, Uncle Ya still maintained a meditative posture, but with a smile on his face.

"Don't panic when you encounter problems, do things in order."

Uncle Ya slowly stood up and pointed to the other side of the mountain, "If I were you, I wouldn't let a few old guys occupy the halfway point of the mountain."

"Why?"

Uncle Ya smiled indifferently: "No matter how difficult the battle is, there is only one commander, don't you put them on it just so that they can help you see the way?"

I was puzzled, "Aren't you a storyteller? How do you still know the art of war?"

"Silly boy, if you talk a lot, you will naturally gain knowledge."

I suddenly realized that Uncle Ya was cultivating me, intentionally or unintentionally.

And his ability doesn't seem to be limited to storytelling.

As the time of contact became longer, I suddenly realized that I could not understand him more and more.

I bowed my hand, bent down and asked, "Then where do you think these elders should be?"

"It's quite a good learner."

Uncle Ya pointed to the bottom with a fan: "It seems reasonable to carry two sacks on your back and pick up some waste on the road!"

Really.

The old saying is true - the art of war is not to be seen, but to be practiced.

I was like Avanti who opened the treasure for the first time, and kept asking Uncle Ya for advice.

He was kind and tirelessly answered.

Looking at the warm smile on his face, it seems that he is quite enjoying my chatter.

At this moment, Uncle Ya suddenly pointed to the donkey cart at the bottom of the mountain.

"Something is wrong with this car."

I followed the direction of his finger and saw that it was an ordinary donkey cart with square straw stacks on it.

The handlebars of the two chariots waved their whips from time to time, and the bells under the donkeys made a crisp crashing sound.

"This ......"

I looked at the ground suspiciously, "What's wrong with that?"

"Twenty-two minutes ago, they just passed through here."

Uncle Ya's answer really shocked me: "I haven't seen you look at the watch, how do you know?"

He laughed: "Storytellers, like teachers, are the most annoying in the classroom."

"I can tell the time with my eyes closed!"

I looked down the hill and then at Uncle Ya: "This distance is a few hundred meters, are you sure it's the same car?"

"I never use my eyes to see things."

"Look closely." Uncle Tooth pointed to the straw, "What season is it?"

"Summer."

"That's right!" Uncle Tooth slapped me on the head, "Is there any straw in summer?"

I covered my head, smiled awkwardly, and immediately pinched my thumb and forefinger together and blew the wolf whistle fiercely.

One long and one short, this is our agreed pathfinder outpost.

Soon, the old man on the hill walked down.

"Man, can you pull me back into the city? I'll give the money!"

His voice was loud, and it echoed louder in the valley.

He seemed to be deliberately trying to make me hear.

The handlebar of the donkey cart shook its head, but it didn't agree, and the money was pushed back.

Now that the traffic is so developed, those who can drive donkey carts will basically not have good conditions at home.

There's no reason for him to turn down this business!

"There's a problem!"

Uncle Ya smiled indifferently, "What are you going to do?"

I was stunned for a moment, what else could I do?

Of course you have to catch it!

On second thought, no, Uncle Ya is burying a trap for me!

I took a closer look and pointed to the donkey cart: "The straw is windy on all sides, and it is the best for Tibetans!"

Uncle Ya shook his fan, his face was calm: "Smart."

Without waiting for Uncle Tooth to speak, I blew the wolf whistle again.