Chen Shijie waved his hand, and a scorched area on the sand table instantly returned to normal.
"Do you know how to use the sand table?"
"Not very well," Zhao Xing reluctantly admitted. He didn't dare to reveal too much. Knowing things from reading books was one thing, but being perfectly clear about how to use military equipment in the army was too strange.
"It's written in the 'Military Strategy,' you can look it up yourself." Chen Shijie pointed to a pile of chaotic documents. "Almost forgot, Gui Niang is still waiting for me in the side hall... You go ahead and read, I'll be right back."
With that, Chen Shijie transformed into a gust of wind and left.
Zhao Xing examined the Marching Hall on his own.
Besides the illustrated sand table, there were also many grassmen in the hall. The grassmen were very small, almost the size of a palm.
Additionally, there were battle formation drums, "hurry up and march" orders, and various military flags.
