That old man that tried to tame the horses that week, fell off his horse and broke his leg. The son who made the living of the house will now be staying in bed. The villagers are here, old man. Once again, they said you were right. Because of these horses, your only son will not be able to use his leg for a long time. But there's no one else to take care of you. Now they're going to be poorer and poorer than before. The old man said, "You're caught up in early decision-making."
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My son broke his leg. That's the truth. Beyond your decision. But I wonder how true. Life comes in such small pieces and you never know what happens next.
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A few weeks later, the enemy attacked the dynasty with a huge army. The king ordered to send all the young men who had a gun with a last hope. Officers from the village, all of the young men apart from the broken leg of the old men were recruited. The village is wrapped in mourning. Because it was not possible to win the war, everyone knew that the outgoing youth would either die or be captured.
The villagers, the old men again. His son's leg is broken, but at least with him. But perhaps ours'll never returned to the village. It's not unfortunate that your son's leg is broken, but it's unfortunate.
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