“Master, I brought you a new blanket,” Little Ox announced, carefully placing the silk-wrapped bundle before the legendary swordsman known as the Weakling.
The Weakling, perched cross-legged atop a wooden bench, didn’t even open his eyes. “What’s wrong with my old one?”
“It has seventeen holes and smells like a wet dog that’s been marinating in baiju, Master.”
“Precisely why I love it. Every hole tells a story of survival.” The Weakling finally cracked open one eye. “Like this one here - from when the Five Venoms Gang tried to assassinate me while I was napping. I rolled up in my blanket and used it as a shield. Their poison needles got stuck in it instead of my vital points.”
Little Ox sighed. “But Master, your reputation… The greatest swordsman in jianghu, sleeping under a tattered rag…”
“My reputation?” The Weakling chuckled darkly. “Do you know why they call me the Weakling?”
“Because you pretend to be frail to fool your enemies?”
“No, because I genuinely am weak. Can barely lift my sword most days. This blanket is the source of my invincibility.”
Little Ox’s jaw dropped. “The… blanket?”
“Indeed. You see, everyone in the martial arts world is obsessed with looking strong. They train their muscles, perfect their stances, develop secret techniques. Meanwhile, I focus on looking as pathetic as possible. This ratty blanket is my greatest weapon.”
The Weakling gestured at his prized possession. “When challengers see me wrapped in this sorry excuse for a blanket, they immediately lower their guard. ‘How dangerous could this shabby fellow be?’ they think. Then - BAM!” He clapped his hands, making Little Ox jump. “They’ve already lost.”
“But Master, surely your sword skills…”
“Are mediocre at best. My true art lies in weaponizing others’ prejudices against them. The more they underestimate me, the more powerful I become.”
Just then, a mighty roar shook the courtyard. “WEAKLING! Come out and face your death!”
“Ah, right on schedule.” The Weakling wrapped his beloved blanket around his shoulders. “Watch and learn, Little Ox.”
He shuffled out to meet a muscle-bound warrior brandishing a massive blade.
“Is this some kind of joke?” the challenger sneered. “I’ve come to duel the legendary Weakling, not some beggar!”
“My sincere apologies,” the Weakling mumbled, appearing to shrink further into his blanket. “I’m not feeling well today. Perhaps we could reschedule?”
The warrior roared with laughter - until the Weakling’s blanket suddenly billowed outward like a sail, momentarily blinding him. There was a flash of steel, a startled yelp, and the challenger’s weapon clattered to the ground.
“How… impossible…” the warrior stammered.
“Thank you for the excellent duel.” The Weakling bowed slightly, already shuffling back inside. “Little Ox, please show our guest out. And keep that new blanket - I prefer my old friend here.”
Little Ox watched his master disappear into the shadows, finally understanding. True strength lies not in appearing powerful, but in knowing how to use your perceived weaknesses as strengths.
The old blanket had gained another story to tell.