The chapter opens by splitting courage into two kinds and giving them opposite outcomes. One who is brave in daring is killed. One who is brave in not daring lives.
The construction insists that both are courage. Restraint is not being contrasted with bravery here; it is being described as a second kind of it, which requires its own nerve, and the chapter does not pretend the two are easy to tell apart from outside.
Then a hesitation that is rare in this book. Of these two, one is beneficial and one is harmful, and who knows the reason for what heaven dislikes? Having stated a rule, the chapter immediately admits it cannot account for the preference behind it. Chapter fifty-eight does something similar when it asks who knows where the reversal of fortune and calamity ends.
The middle of the chapter describes how heaven operates, in four clauses that are all denials of method. It does not contend and yet is good at winning. Does not speak and yet is good at answering. Does not summon and yet things come of themselves. Is unhurried and yet good at laying plans.
The last of those is the most interesting, because planning is exactly the activity the book distrusts in human beings. Applied to heaven it is qualified by slackness, which is to say a scheme with no urgency in it, and the difference between that and human contrivance is the difference the whole text is about.