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A wanderer once asked an old man: "What is courage? What is wisdom? What is chivalry?"
The old man gave no answer.
He rose, took out an old painting, and slowly unrolled it. In the painting was a Yaomo—massive as a mountain, fangs protruding, eyes burning red.
"This is called Bo're."
"To face the Bo're and stand your ground—that is courage."
"To face the Bo're and walk away, knowing you cannot win—that is wisdom."
"As for chivalry..."
He paused, shook his head. "I cannot say."
The wanderer sat in silence for a long time, then stood and bowed in thanks.
That night, the wanderer lay awake. At dawn, he left the village and continued his journey.
On the mountain road, the smell of blood hit him.
Ahead stood the Bo're, eight feet tall, gnawing on bones.
The wanderer understood immediately—this fight would kill him.
He turned to flee.
But in that instant, he saw the village behind him. Morning mist. Quiet houses. Smoke about to rise.
The wanderer stopped.
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