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Yue Dapeng became energetic.

"That's a lot! I love listening to "Tie Weng Pass" the most."

His voice suddenly rose.

"Lei Wanjun, the old master of the Golden Spear, guarded the Iron Weng Pass, and two hundred thousand barbarians attacked it for twenty days!"

"Lao Linggong rode alone, armed with a golden spear, and picked out nine enemy generals in front of the battle line, killing barbarian corpses all over the field and blood flowing like rivers."

"That's such a pleasure!"

Chen Zui stroked his long beard, chuckled and said:

"Okay. I want to ask you, how many enemy generals can Mr. Lei, with his golden spear, pick out in one day?"

"The book explains it clearly." Yue Dapeng blurted out without even thinking, "I picked nine at once!"

"Nine a day." Chen Zui nodded and asked again,

"But there are two hundred thousand barbarians besieging the city. He just picks ninety of them a day, can he finish them all?"

Yue Dapeng was stunned, scratched the back of his head, and muttered: "Of course there are endless choices."

"I can't finish my selection." Chen Zui asked again,

"Is this Iron Weng Pass defended by his one golden spear, or by the three thousand defenders on the wall?"

Yue Dapeng opened his mouth.

After hesitating for a long time, he said: "...In the final analysis, it is the three thousand brothers who are guarding it with their lives."

Chen Zui looked at him steadily and said:

"But Mr. Storyteller talks about the glory of being able to pick out nine generals with a golden gun. Why doesn't he talk about how three thousand people clung to the wall?"

"What's there to say?"

Yue Dapeng curled his lips and said matter-of-factly:

"Soldiers defending the city just stand on the wall and shoot arrows, smash stones, and roll logs. How can these trivial things be exciting to pick out a general with a golden spear?"

Chen Zui shook his head.

"The bad thing is that there is nothing to talk about."

Chen Zui stretched out a hand, spread his fingers, waved it in front of Yue Dapeng's eyes, and said:

"Look. One hand, five fingers. When you were holding the knife in front of the battle, did you ever think about it one by one, first bending the thumb, then the index finger, and then the middle finger?"

"How can that be possible?" Yue Dapeng laughed and said,

"At a critical moment of life and death, all I could think about was cutting people, and I would tighten my grip on the knife handle as soon as I got there. I wouldn't have time to think about which finger to bend first."

Chen Zui closed his fingers and clenched them into a strong fist.

"An army of one hundred thousand is just one hand."

"The commander, Qian Hu, is the five fingers. The general flag, Bai Hu, is the joints on the fingers."

"As a coach, you just have to hold on to the thought of 'fighting out' in your heart. Your fingers will automatically close together, and your joints will automatically bend. Only then can this hand be clenched into a strong fist."

"With one punch, one hundred thousand people will be as strong as one person. This is the power to defeat the enemy!"

Chen Zui slowly retracted his fist: "Lei Laolinggong's real ability has never been in the golden spear."

"He is the general under his command in the camp on weekdays. He keeps the team in an upright position. He is trained to advance when he hears the drum and retreats when the gold is sounded. He uses his fingers like an arm."

"When he faced the battle, wherever he pointed the sharp edge of his golden spear, three thousand men would block it. This was the reason why the storyteller never stated it clearly, but he truly protected Tieweng Pass."

Yue Dapeng was entranced by what he heard. He opened his mouth and was stunned for a long time.

"Tsk...Sir, I seem to know a little bit about it!"

"I was leading the troops before. I didn't like this one, I thought that one was slow, and I wanted to take care of everyone. No wonder at the end of the day, I was so tired that my heels hit the back of my head!"

"I'm enlightened." Chen Zui smiled and said, stroking his palms.

"It's not that you can't control hundreds of people. You want to bend every joint yourself."

Chen Zui stretched out two fingers and tapped on the desk:

"You only need to firmly hold the general flag under your hand, grab a few capable commanders, and ask them to bend the fingers of the leading soldiers for you. Your hand will naturally become more alive."

Yue Dapeng's brows knitted together again, with a grimace on his face:

"That's the truth. But in my camp, half are new recruits, and half are defeated troops collected from Pingjin. No one of these two groups looks down on the other, and they don't obey me. The banner of the boss I left behind may not be suppressed, and no one may be willing to listen to his orders."

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