Zhao Douan walked out of White Horse Hall when the sun was past its zenith.
Outside, his car awaited, with Little Wang, the coachman, shading his face with a cap, half-asleep, but he promptly rose upon hearing movement and asked,
"Sir, you're out. Where to next?"
Zhao Douan replied, "Back to the government office."
Little Wang asked curiously, "And then?"
As a leader's driver, after this period of testing, he had grasped some of Zhao Douan's style of doing things.
Though not knowing specifics, he vaguely knew that his master had recently been targeting someone and setting up some strategies.
"Wait," Zhao Douan said calmly, leaning back on the soft cushion.
In his previous life caught in a whirlwind of events, he had bought a copy of "The Art of War" out of curiosity. After reading it, he came to two conclusions:
First, war is about outnumbering the enemy, concentrating superior forces, making large advances, and not giving the adversary a chance to breathe.
