I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 130: The Bitterness of a Fallen Comrade

Zhuang Fei quickly made his way to Su Yiming’s table and cast his gaze upon the board.

“Su Yiming is playing White, Wu Xiu is playing Black. As for the current board position…”

As he examined the board, Zhuang Fei swiftly assessed the situation, his expression shifting slightly.

On the board, black and white stones intertwined. Black had secured some territory in the corners, but its crucial formations had been cut off, while White had near-complete control over the central area!

“I didn’t see how the game got to this point, but the fact that the board ended up like this is enough to show that there’s a massive gap in their skill levels!”

Standing still, Zhuang Fei continued watching as they played a few more moves.

“They're playing fast, assessing the situation with incredible speed. Every move is precise. White isn’t outright killing, but just through positional exchanges, Black is already crumbling!”

“I can see that he’s strong, but… with a game like this, if the opponent is weak, I could achieve the same result. There’s nothing special about it.”

Zhuang Fei furrowed his brows, suddenly feeling frustrated.

Go was a peculiar game. If an amateur 4-dan played against a professional 9-dan, the disparity would be obvious. But if that same amateur 4-dan played against a professional 1-dan, the difference wouldn’t seem as stark—because the amateur was simply too weak.

A few moves later, Wu Xiu, sitting across from Su Yiming, lowered his head and admitted defeat. His voice was weak as he said, “I lost.”

“Thank you for the game,” Su Yiming responded with a slight bow.

“…Thank you for the game.”

Wu Xiu hesitated for a moment before finally replying.

Watching this, Zhuang Fei clenched his teeth, withdrew his gaze from the board, and strode out of the playing room without looking back.

“It doesn’t matter. If he really has the strength, as long as I keep winning, I’ll run into him eventually.”

A sharp glint flashed in Zhuang Fei’s eyes, and he instinctively tightened his fists.

“Fang Haoxin lost to him? That only proves Fang Haoxin wasn’t all that great to begin with. But I’ll defeat him!”

Just as Zhuang Fei reached the hotel lobby and was about to leave, a man in his thirties walked straight toward him. Distracted, the man bumped into Zhuang Fei’s shoulder.

“My apologies,” the man quickly snapped back to his senses and apologized.

Zhuang Fei frowned slightly and looked at the man, suddenly feeling surprised.

He remembered this guy—one of the finalists in the tournament, something-Pu. Because he was the oldest player in the final stage of this promotion tournament, Zhuang Fei had taken note of him.

Technically, the age limit for this tournament was thirty, but it was rare for players close to that age—twenty-eight or twenty-nine—to participate, let alone make it to the finals.

“You lost?”

Zhuang Fei looked at Pu Weize and asked.

Pu Weize, only now realizing he had bumped into Zhuang Fei, opened his mouth but hesitated. After a brief silence, he finally nodded and said softly, “…Yeah, I lost.”

Zhuang Fei shook his head, said nothing more, and turned to leave the hotel.

Pu Weize watched Zhuang Fei’s departing figure before sighing and slumping onto a sofa in the hotel lobby. Staring at the ceiling, his expression was filled with confusion.

“I wanted to win too… but somehow, I fell behind in the opening. By the mid-game, I was completely crushed. I never even had a chance…”

“…I still can’t figure out where I started to lose ground.”

The Next Day

Early the next morning, Yu Shao arrived at the playing room once again.

Half the players had already been sent to the losers’ bracket yesterday, but since there were only fifty participants in total, everyone still played in the same room.

Compared to the previous day, a noticeable number of players now bore heavy expressions. Those who had already lost once knew that if they lost again, they’d be eliminated.

Even those who had won yesterday weren’t at ease—there were still several rounds left, and no one could guarantee they’d make it through.

As Yu Shao entered the room, Jiang Xiahua took a deep breath.

“Yu Shao… won again. And he beat Pu Weize.”

Yesterday, Jiang Xiahua had intended to watch Yu Shao’s game after finishing his own, but by the time his match ended, Yu Shao’s had already been over for quite a while.

Yu Shao scanned the room, noticing that Table Eight was still empty. Just like yesterday, he sat down at the table and waited for the draw to begin.

As the match time approached, all the players gradually filled the room. Though fifty people wasn’t a small number, every single one of them seemed preoccupied with their own thoughts, making the atmosphere eerily quiet.

Not long after all the players had arrived, Ma Zhengyu and another referee finally entered the playing room.

The already silent room became even quieter.

“The second-round draw will now begin.”

Standing at the judges’ table, Ma Zhengyu gestured to two draw boxes placed in front of him. “Winners’ bracket players will draw from the right box, losers’ bracket players from the left. Whoever draws number thirteen gets a bye this round.”

Upon hearing this, the players’ expressions shifted.

After the first round, twenty-five players had entered the winners’ bracket and twenty-five into the losers’ bracket. From this round onward, since the number of players was uneven, some players would start getting byes.

Now, luck would come into play.

A bye meant automatic advancement to the next round. And because future rounds would also have an odd number of players, there would be additional byes.

If someone was lucky enough, they could even get three byes in a row—and no one could complain. After all, luck was a part of the game too.

Normally, this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But this year, the competition was brutal—Zhuang Fei, Fang Haoxin, and now the sudden dark horse, Su Yiming, were making everyone feel suffocated.

Everyone wanted a bye.

Because if their luck was bad and they drew Zhuang Fei, Fang Haoxin, or Su Yiming, they’d just have to accept their fate.

“Starting with Table One.”

Ma Zhengyu looked at the two players sitting at the first table. “Come forward and draw your lots.”

The two players took a deep breath, walked up to the judges’ table, and reached into the draw box, pulling out their slips of paper.

But neither of them opened it immediately. Instead, they clenched it tightly in their fists. One of them even closed his eyes, as if praying.

Then, the players from Table Two stepped forward to draw their lots.

Then came the third table, the fourth, the fifth…

In less than ten minutes, everyone had drawn their numbers.

Seeing this, Ma Zhengyu frowned and urged, “What are you all waiting for? Open your slips already!”

Only then did the players slowly unclench their hands and look at their numbers, most of them revealing expressions of disappointment.

Jiang Xiahua, however, blinked at the number on his slip before a barely restrained joy spread across his face.

“Who got number thirteen?”

At the judge’s table, Ma Zhengyu asked, “Raise your hand.”

“I did!”

In the winners’ bracket, Jiang Xiahua immediately raised his right hand, gripping his slip.

Almost simultaneously, in the losers’ bracket, Bai Jingchuan also raised his hand, his face showing excitement. “Me too! I got thirteen!”

Ma Zhengyu nodded, quickly jotting down their names before continuing, “Who got number one? Take a seat at table one.”

Two boys of similar age stood up. They exchanged a glance—clearly familiar with each other—then walked to table one with solemn expressions.

Yu Shao glanced at his own slip.

Number two.

That meant he was up next.

Sure enough, Ma Zhengyu soon called out, “Who got number two? Please take your seats at table two.”

“Here.”

Yu Shao responded, immediately rising from his chair and heading toward table two. Meanwhile, from table ten, Zhuang Fei also stood up and walked in the same direction.

“Wait… Yu Shao’s opponent this round is Zhuang Fei?!”

Jiang Xiahua couldn’t help but feel a surge of concern for Yu Shao.

Seeing that Yu Shao and Zhuang Fei had drawn table two, the other players let out a collective sigh of relief. They all cast silent looks at Yu Shao, inwardly lamenting his fate.

There was no schadenfreude in their gazes—only a shared sense of dread.

This round, it was Yu Shao’s turn.

But next round, it could be any one of them.

Someone exhaled heavily, unable to bear the oppressive atmosphere.

The only one who remained unfazed was Su Yiming. He glanced at the slip in his hand—number nine. His eyes held a flicker of disappointment.

“…Oh well, it won’t be long now.”

“As the winners’ bracket thins out, sooner or later… we will have to face each other.”

Su Yiming’s emotions were in turmoil.

Last year, around this exact time, the City High School Go League had taken place.

That was when he suffered his first defeat—after arriving more than a hundred years into the future.

At the time, he hadn’t been naive enough to believe he could keep winning forever. Go had evolved tremendously over the past century and a half.

But he had never expected to lose in something as trivial as a high school Go league match.

He had only entered the tournament on a whim, out of curiosity about modern Go competitions.

Yet, even if he could do it all over again, he would still enter that high school league.

And this year, he was even more determined to participate.

“The game we’re destined to play… how will it unfold?”

Su Yiming’s gaze shifted to Yu Shao, his expression heavy. Subconsciously, he tightened his grip on his slip.

“…Who will emerge victorious?”

Zhuang Fei and Yu Shao arrived at table two, pulled out their chairs, and sat down.

“Zhuang Fei?”

Yu Shao was slightly surprised to see him as his opponent this round. He nodded at him lightly.

Zhuang Fei glanced at Yu Shao but didn’t return the greeting. Instead, he simply stared at the board in silence, seemingly preoccupied.

Yu Shao chuckled to himself but didn’t take it to heart.

After all, Zhuang Fei was still young, and having gained recognition at an early age, a little arrogance was only natural.

When Yu Shao had earned his professional rank at twelve, he had been just as cocky.

Before long, all the players had taken their seats according to their assigned numbers, facing their respective opponents.

“The match will now begin!”

A moment later, Ma Zhengyu checked his watch and announced in a steady voice, “Each player has three hours. One-minute overtime countdown. Black gives a 7.5-point komi. You may now determine turn order.”