I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 107: The Next Time We Meet, We’ll Be Rivals

Seoul.

A black-haired, black-eyed teenager slumped into his computer chair as if all the strength had drained from his body. He stared blankly at the screen, his expression dazed and lost.

“How… how could this happen?”

He gazed at the board on the screen, full of confusion.

If he had simply been crushed in the midgame due to a sheer gap in strength, overwhelmed by his opponent’s fierce attacks until he had no choice but to resign, he would have accepted it. A loss was a loss—he would admit he wasn’t good enough.

But that wasn’t the case!

From the moment he saw his opponent’s terrifying 100% win rate, he had braced himself for a tough match, fully prepared to give it his all, even if it meant losing in the end.

So, from the very start, he played with utmost seriousness. He believed his opening moves were flawless, each one adhering strictly to proper Go principles, without a single moment of hesitation.

Because of this, he had even thought he had gained the upper hand in the opening phase.

His black stones seemed to be cornered, unable to advance or retreat, gradually slipping into a disadvantage.

Even now, as he scrutinized the board and reviewed his opening moves, he still couldn’t figure out where he had gone wrong!

Then came the midgame, where his opponent’s sharp, relentless attacks suffocated him. Each move was like a violent storm, leaving his formations riddled with weaknesses.

All he could feel was helplessness.

Having already fallen behind in the opening, and with such an overwhelming difference in midgame skill, he had no choice but to resign when he realized the game was beyond saving.

The gap between them… was astronomical.

As a Go trainee, he had a keen sense of the disparity in skill. And this gap—this abyss—was simply too vast.

"Shdide… a professional player?"

He stared at the screen in shock, still lost in thought, trying to pinpoint exactly where his opening had fallen short.

After a long time, something suddenly clicked. He quickly moved his mouse and sent a friend request to shdide.

But his opponent’s profile was already grayed out—offline.

He sighed in disappointment but still clicked Follow. This way, he would get a notification when shdide logged in again, and he could even spectate his matches.

"I really can’t figure out what I did wrong. I’ll show the game to my teacher tomorrow and ask for advice."

With that thought, he stood up and left his room.

Although this match had been a complete one-sided defeat, it didn’t crush his spirit. Online Go was filled with all kinds of hidden masters and prodigies.

His opponent had to be a professional—and not just any professional, but a top-tier one.

As he passed by the study room, he suddenly paused, slightly surprised.

Inside, a fourteen-year-old boy sat alone, his short, slightly messy hair framing a focused expression. A Go board was set in front of him, and he was meticulously replaying a game.

"Fang Haoxin?"

The boy looked up at him, nodding slightly. "Yeah?"

"You’re still studying game records?"

"Mm."

Fang Haoxin nodded and said, "I’m reviewing the second game between Zhuang Weisheng, Tenth Dan, and Kong Zi in the Tianyuan title match."

"Oh, that was an incredible game! Both of them played brilliantly. Just watching it got my blood pumping. Zhuang Weisheng is still as formidable as ever!"

The teenager sighed in admiration, then walked into the study and sat beside Fang Haoxin.

"So, you’ve decided to return home, right?"

"Yeah."

Fang Haoxin nodded. "I’ll be going back in a month to prepare for next year’s Promotion Tournament."

"You’ve been here for what, almost five years now? If you hadn’t suddenly mentioned returning home to get promoted, I’d have nearly forgotten your nationality."

The boy hesitated, then asked, "Why go back? I mean, I get that there are fewer slots for professional players here, but with your skill, you’d have no problem earning a spot even if you stayed."

"Your country still ranks among the world’s top Go nations, though it’s not as dominant as before. In international competitions, only Zhuang Weisheng holds the fort."

"If you really want to improve, staying here would be better."

Fang Haoxin was silent for a moment before answering slowly, "That’s exactly why I have to go back."

"Huh?"

The teenager was momentarily stunned.

Fang Haoxin picked up a stone from the bowl, placed it on the board, and said, "Because if Zhuang Weisheng, Tenth Dan, ever falls… who will be there to carry on after him?"

"Ah, isshe! That kind of talk makes me wanna punch you!"

The teenager huffed in frustration but soon sighed. "But honestly… with your talent…"

He trailed off, shaking his head with a slightly melancholic expression.

"Then again, I guess it makes sense. After all, your great-grandfather was Fang Xin—the only person from that era to ever defeat Shen Yi. You probably have Go in your blood."

He patted his own chest, as if comforting himself. "I’m different, though. My great-grandfather just sold kimchi. The fact that I even have a shot at becoming a pro is already a miracle!"

"My great-grandfather didn’t win."

Fang Haoxin corrected him, "That wasn’t a fair match. In the end, my great-grandfather resigned. And besides, my father, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather—none of them were Go players."

"You’re really gonna argue about whether your ancestor won against Shen Yi?"

The teenager was exasperated. "I don’t get how your mind works."

"My great-grandfather left a family rule," Fang Haoxin said calmly. "He didn’t care what others said about him, but his descendants never claimed he had won against Shen Yi."

"Alright, alright."

The teenager shook his head, sighing.

"But still, it’s kind of awe-inspiring."

"In Shen Yi’s era, your country absolutely dominated the Go world. It wasn’t just Shen Yi—there were plenty of players as strong as your great-grandfather."

"The rest of us couldn’t even lift our heads in the international scene. It was like all the Go geniuses of that generation were born in your country. If you wanted to play seriously, you had to travel there just to compete."

"Shen Yi’s death was like a whale falling to the ocean floor, nourishing countless lives."

"One era ended. And now, we live in a brand-new one."

The teenager’s voice was tinged with nostalgia. Even though that legendary era was over a hundred years in the past, he still felt a deep longing for it.

So many stories. So many legends.

Even after all this time, those games, those players, those moments remained unforgettable.

Though Go had continued to evolve over the past century, the records left behind by those past masters still carried an undeniable weight.

Looking at them felt like crossing a hundred years in an instant.

It was almost as if the players of that era were still whispering to them, their voices echoing through time.

Go was also known as Handtalk.

And when a stone was placed on the board, it spoke volumes—without the need for words.

Fang Haoxin remained silent.

Even though his great-grandfather was Fang Xin, he had never even met his great-great-grandfather, as the man had already passed away before he was born. That legendary era, when his ancestor had stood among the giants of the Go world, felt distant and unfamiliar—yet, at the same time, incredibly alluring.

Suddenly, the teenager beside him seemed to think of something. His eyes lit up, and he eagerly asked, “Oh, right! Have you heard about the rumor going around online recently?”

“What rumor?” Fang Haoxin asked.

“The one about Shen Yi’s defeat!” The boy looked excited. “They’re saying that Shen Yi actually lost a game at some point. If anyone knows the truth about this, it’s got to be you, right?”

Since Fang Xin was Fang Haoxin’s great-grandfather, no one had more authority on the subject than he did.

“It’s fake.”

Fang Haoxin shook his head firmly. “After turning twenty-three, from then until his death, Shen Yi never lost a single game.”

“I mean, yeah, I figured it was probably fake, but hearing it from you makes it even more convincing.”

The teenager chuckled, then suddenly remembered something else. With a curious expression, he asked, “Oh, there’s something I’ve always wanted to know.”

“Go ahead,” Fang Haoxin said.

“What was your great-grandfather’s reaction when he found out Shen Yi had died? I mean, after Shen Yi passed away, your great-grandfather basically became the number one player in the world.”

Fang Haoxin was silent for a moment before answering, “I heard from my grandfather that when my great-grandfather received the news of Shen Yi’s death, he simply let out a long sigh. He didn’t say a single word.”

“…That’s it?”

The teenager looked disappointed. “I thought he would’ve at least said something.”

“Nothing.”

Fang Haoxin shook his head. “But my grandfather told me that when he was little, he would sometimes see my great-grandfather sitting alone in a room, staring at a Go board. One bowl of stones was placed to his right, and the other was set across from him.”

The teenager frowned. “Wait… across from him?”

“One Go bowl on his right side. The other on the left side of the board, directly opposite. Both bowls open. As if…”

Fang Haoxin paused for a moment before continuing, “As if someone was sitting across from him.”

Hearing this, the teenager froze in place.

Under normal circumstances, this might have sounded like the beginning of a ghost story.

But he didn’t feel scared at all. Instead, a strange, indescribable emotion settled in his chest—a mix of sadness, nostalgia, and something else he couldn’t quite name.

“…Damn.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. He wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn’t know what.

“It’s all in the past.”

Fang Haoxin broke the silence. “If you manage to become a professional player, the next time we meet, we’ll be rivals.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hope so.”

The teenager sighed dramatically. “Unlike you, I can’t just decide to get promoted. I need insane luck just to have a shot. Anyway, my goal is to turn pro before I’m eighteen. You really were born with Fang Xin’s blood in your veins.”

“I already told you—my dad, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather weren’t Go players.”

Fang Haoxin corrected him again. “By your logic, they should’ve been great at Go too. But in reality, none of them even played much.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

The teenager waved it off, clearly unwilling to argue.

“Still, I guess it’s good that you’re going back. If you stayed here, I’d be under even more pressure.”