After the morning's shelling, the Prosenians seemed to have lost their drive and made no further moves.
Wang Zhong finished breakfast without any disturbances, and then Popov came over with a box.
"Come on, have a game of chess," Popov said as he opened the box, spilled out the pieces, and the box unfolded into a black-and-white checkered chessboard.
Wang Zhong, "I only know how each piece moves."
"Really?" Popov's eyes widened in surprise.
Wang Zhong, "I'm dead last in skill."
"Stop with your last place talk. Just try and see, if I can beat you easily, I'd have something to brag about," Popov said as he sat opposite Wang Zhong, pushed the cutlery aside on the table, and began setting up the chessboard, "Anyway, we've got nothing else to do right now, and if we don't find something for ourselves, Pavlov will call us to help out!"
Pavlov looked up and glanced over at the two of them, "You know I need help and you're not coming over?"