The Master Strategist: Shh, You're Disrupting My Plans

This is a world of the Hundred Schools of Thought.

The Mohists patrol the realm on Heaven's behalf. Beneath the Blood-Red Glazed Tree, a million soldiers need no weapons to calculate all under heaven.

At Jixia, purple clouds stretch thirty thousand li eastward. Without the Master's birth, the Confucian way would have been shrouded in darkness for all eternity.

Beyond Changping Pass, ghosts wail by the thousands. The Military School's butcher stains the Central Plains with blood and never sheathes his blade.

Adrift on the sunken sea, the strategist's army has nine heads and nine minds, changing in countless ways, its true face impossible to see.

Where there is no water, the Buddha's sword must rise, its sacred chants proclaiming my boundless freedom.

Mo Cangli: Zifang, have you come here especially to praise me? If so, paper and brush are ready. Write all you like, then you may leave.

Gai Nie: Mr. Zhang Liang, the purpose of the sword in my hand is to stop people like you!

Gongsun Li: There is a flower that comes from the sky and returns to the earth. That is its life's purpose. Mr. Zhang Liang, is this Ali's fate too?

Han Fei: The gaps in time are often used to conceal truths too painful to face. Zifang, be careful.

Hahahaha! Gentlemen, the tea is still warm and the wine has not yet gone cold. In this chaotic world, allow me to make the first move.

Could this be the easygoing, chaotic daily life of the Sage of Stratagems?

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Please do not imitate.