The calf is capable of walking quite well now," Dazu said. "He never stumbles.""But I told you to carry him back here," the teacher said. "The first thing a soldier must learn is to obey orders."Every day, the calf grew a little heavier, and every day, Dazu had to struggle a little harder. He would collapse, exhausted, when he finally got to the ranch, and the calf would bound out of his arms, glad to be able to walk on his own and stretch out.When winter rolled around again, Médo handed him a wooden sword and asked him to strike as hard as he could at the practice dummy. Dazu looked with distaste at the crude weapon with no edge, but he swung obediently.The wooden dummy fell in half, cut clean through. He looked at the sword in his hand with wonder."It's not the sword," his teacher said. "Have you looked at yourself lately?" He brought Dazu to stand in front of a brightly polished shield.The young man could hardly recognize the reflection. His shoulders filled the frame of the mirror. His arms and thighs were twice as thick as he remembered, and his chest bulged over his narrow waist."A great warrior trusts not his weapons, but himself. When you possess true strength, you can deal a killing blow even if all you have is a blade of grass."Now you're finally ready to learn from me. But first, go thank the calf for making you strong.
Ken Liu, The Grace of Kings
allegory, muscle-building, muscles, parable, soldiers, strength