Skip to main content

What Does Sun Tzu Have in Common with Dear You?

At first glance, they couldn't be more different.

One is a 2,500-year-old military classic.

The other is a heartwarming movie that has touched millions through its message of Qing Yi (情义)—care, loyalty, integrity, and courage.

Yet both teach the same timeless truth.

Sun Tzu wrote:

"The supreme excellence is to win without fighting."

He also taught that the highest form of leadership is to unite people through the Dao (道)—a shared moral purpose that inspires willing commitment rather than forced obedience.

In Dear You, we see this lived out through Qing Yi.

  • People do not stay because they are forced to.
  • They stay because they care.
  • They sacrifice because relationships matter.
  • They choose loyalty over convenience.

That is leadership through the heart.

In today's organizations, leaders often rely on authority, KPIs, and processes. These are necessary, but they are rarely enough to inspire discretionary effort.

People may comply with authority.

But they commit to Qing Yi.

This is where Love Intelligence (LQ) completes Sun Tzu.

Sun Tzu gives us the strategy:

Win without fighting. Lead with Dao.

Love Intelligence gives us the practical path:

  • Care builds trust.

  • Courage earns respect.

  • Connection creates unity.

When people believe in both the purpose and the person leading them, extraordinary things happen.

You no longer need to fight for cooperation.

People choose to walk with you.

Perhaps that is the deepest lesson shared by both Sun Tzu and Dear You:

The greatest victories are won not by conquering people, but by winning their hearts.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

What an Executive Coach and Business Coach Does

The Secret Under the Mattress: Why would a 79-year Man Bet So Big on 4D?

It was 2007 when we discovered his secret. While moving my father’s mattress, we found them: heaps and heaps of Singapore Pools 4D tickets. They were stacked in layers, a paper trail of lost hopes. What shocked us most wasn’t just the volume, but the stakes. He wasn’t betting a few dollars for fun. He was punting hundreds of dollars per draw—nearly ten times a month. At the time, my siblings and I were furious. Our father was a 79-year-old retiree. We wondered, with a mix of anger and confusion, why a man at his stage of life would need to win such "big money." What was he going to do with the money? We saw it as a reckless habit, a sign of poor judgment in his final years.  Some of us would say, "If I were to give him money to buy 4D, why don't I use the money and buy 4D myself?  At least I have better discipline".  It has taken me two decades, and the experience of raising my own three grown-up children, to finally see the truth that was hidden under that matt...

Head Bleeding when the Chair Falls

The Weight of Silence: What Were We Really Arguing About? My earliest memories are punctuated by the sound of shouting. In 1970, when I was barely 6 years old, I stood as a small witness to the fierce quarrels between my father and my late eldest brother Kah Yang (he passed away in 1971 at the age of 17). As I grew up, these contradictions became the soundtrack of our lives, usually centered around our family's shoe shop and clothing stalls in Chinatown. In the court of family opinion, the verdict was almost always the same: my father was "wrong." He was judged as a man who didn't fulfill his role, who wasn't "burdening" enough for the family’s success. But as I look back from the vantage point of 2026, I have to ask: Was that actually true? Let me finally put to rest what my father did right: the truths that were buried under decades of criticism: Unseen Labor: He worked grueling, long hours. I remember him hauling boxes of goods and equipment to set u...