I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 149: Shock! Zhuang Weisheng’s Son Is Actually...

The match was over.

Black wins—Dragon-Slaying Victory.

With this final game concluded, Jiang Xiahua had secured the last professional qualification slot, officially bringing this year's Promotion Tournament to an end.

The crowd’s gazes toward Jiang Xiahua carried a deep sense of awe.

His performance in this game had once again exceeded everyone’s expectations.

Many among them were familiar with Jiang Xiahua—some had even played against him multiple times—but after watching yesterday’s and today’s matches, it was obvious that he was no longer the same player they once knew.

Yesterday, one might have argued that he had simply been in peak condition, which led to his exceptional performance.

But today’s game proved otherwise—Jiang Xiahua had truly improved.

It wasn’t just about skill growth—through this match, they had also witnessed his determination and courage on the board.

Most players, when holding an advantage, would focus on safe, solid play.

But Jiang Xiahua had dared to sacrifice stones and launch an all-out assault—a move few would have the confidence to execute without absolute certainty.

"He finally looks like a real Go player."

Yu Shao watched Jiang Xiahua, sensing the clear transformation in him.

He still remembered their first encounter—back then, Jiang Xiahua had been constantly sighing, complaining about how Zhuang Fei and Fang Haoxin were born into Go families, while he himself stood no chance against them.

But now?

If Jiang Xiahua were to face Zhuang Fei or Fang Haoxin again, he would no longer flinch.

He would fight to the bitter end on the board.

Before this, Jiang Xiahua had been a strong player, but he had never truly embraced the mindset of a professional.

A true Go player is someone who pursues greatness despite fear and challenges the game with reverence.

Now that Jiang Xiahua had developed this understanding, his Go skills had surged forward alongside it.

It might sound mystical, but in Go, such moments of enlightenment were real.

One day, you might be evenly matched with someone.

The next day, you suddenly find yourself unable to keep up—watching helplessly as they soar ahead, leaving you behind, no matter how hard you try to catch up.

Jiang Xiahua stood up.

He quickly spotted Yu Shao in the crowd and, after reporting his match results to the referee, hurried over.

"Congrats on making it to the pro ranks," Yu Shao said with a smile.

"Same to you," Jiang Xiahua grinned, unable to hide his excitement.

As they walked out of the playing room together, he added,

"Five years… it took me five years, but I finally made it. I didn’t let Master down."

"Right, speaking of your Master—where’s your junior apprentice?"

Yu Shao suddenly remembered that Jiang Xiahua had previously introduced his junior, someone named Yuan Wenyi, but he hadn’t seen him around at all.

"You mean Monkey?"

Jiang Xiahua chuckled. "He got eliminated in the third round of the main tournament and went home ages ago."

"Even though he's in the dojo's trainee class, he's ranked near the bottom. He entered this year mostly for experience, not expecting to go pro."

"But he’s only eleven. He’s still got plenty of time to train and improve."

Yu Shao nodded thoughtfully.

In this world, many people studied Go at dojos, but not all of them aimed to become professionals.

Because of the dojo system, people commonly referred to all dojo players as ‘promotion trainees’.

But in truth, only those who performed well and entered the official "promotion class" were considered true professional aspirants.

In other words, being in a dojo didn’t automatically mean you were on the path to becoming a pro—it was just the first step.

If you didn’t make it into the promotion class, you wouldn’t abandon traditional schooling. Most would simply play Go during vacations while attending school regularly—making them vastly different from those in the promotion track.

Historically, the final rounds of the Promotion Tournament were dominated by promotion trainees, with almost no amateur players making it this far.

That’s why, last year, when Zheng Qin—an amateur player—crushed the promotion trainees and secured his professional status with a flawless record, it caused a huge sensation online.

As for this year...

"Next up is the Flame Inheritance Match," Jiang Xiahua said, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"My Master has played teaching games with me plenty of times, but I’ve never actually faced a 9-dan pro in an official setting."

"Even though it’s just a ceremonial match, I’m really looking forward to it!"

"If I can sync up with my Master well enough, maybe we can take down a 9-dan player together. That’d be an amazing start to my pro career."

Then, he turned to Yu Shao, realizing something.

"Since you’re from the amateur circuit, the association will assign you a partner. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"Hmm?"

Hearing Jiang Xiahua mention the Flame Inheritance Match, Yu Shao thought for a moment before replying,

"Not really. Anyone’s fine."

He was actually curious to see who he’d be paired with—and more importantly, who his opponent would be.

Even though the Flame Inheritance Match was just a symbolic event, meant to pass down the legacy of Go, Yu Shao still found it interesting and worth looking forward to.

Jiang Xiahua suddenly smirked mischievously.

"Listen, no matter what happens in the Flame Inheritance Match, we rookie pros can’t lose."

"Huh?"

Yu Shao looked at him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it this way—if we win, that means we rookies beat 9-dan professionals."

"But if we lose, it’s not our fault—it’s because our 9-dan partners lost to the other 9-dan pros."

Jiang Xiahua raised an eyebrow proudly.

"So, no matter what, we never take the blame!"

"...What?"

Yu Shao was stunned.

At first, something about this felt wrong, but after thinking it over, he couldn’t actually find any flaws in the logic.

It sort of made sense… in a ridiculous way.

"That… actually works?"

Yu Shao was genuinely caught off guard.

"It’s just how it is," Jiang Xiahua laughed.

"So really, it doesn’t matter who we’re paired with. Either way, we can’t lose."

The Promotion Tournament closing ceremony was scheduled for two hours after the final game.

Even though Jiang Xiahua hadn’t eaten yet, he was too excited to feel hungry.

After five years of effort, he had finally gone pro.

Instead of going out for food, he grabbed some snacks from the hotel’s refreshment table and stayed in the lobby with Yu Shao, chatting about dojo stories while waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Before long, the twelve newly promoted pros gathered in the event hall.

Having battled through an entire month of intense competition, they looked visibly exhausted—but more than anything, excited and thrilled to finally be professional players.

Among them, Yu Shao’s presence stood out.

Even the players from the women’s division were curiously glancing at him, whispering among themselves.

Though they had competed in separate brackets, Yu Shao’s name had come up repeatedly over the past few days.

Soon after, Su Yiming and Xu Zijin also arrived, each finding a seat to wait for the ceremony to begin.

As the hall filled with people, the air buzzed with anticipation.

Yu Shao knew that in this world, the Go industry was incredibly developed—even amateur tournaments attracted significant attention, so it was only natural that professional events were even more highly regarded.

As a result, sponsors flocked to Go tournaments, driving sponsorship fees sky-high. This meant that even losing players still received substantial appearance fees.

Thus, for a professional Go player, even as a first-dan rookie, simply participating in enough tournaments—even without winning a single match—was more than enough to support an entire family.

Sure, it might be embarrassing to lose all the time.

But so what?

"The national soccer team embarrasses the country all the time—why should Go be any different?"

Furthermore, in this world, famous Go players had endorsements, book deals, and sponsorship contracts, sometimes making even more money than tournament prize pools.

Of course, for unknown, low-ranked professionals, such opportunities were still far out of reach.

That’s why, given that just playing in matches already provided generous income, the 50-million-yuan ($500,000) annual subsidy for three years seemed excessive to Yu Shao.

But looking around at the exhausted faces of those who had fought their way to the top, he suddenly understood.

Becoming a professional player in this world was even harder than in his past life.

Everyone here had clawed their way out of brutal competition—this financial support was simply a way to compensate them for years of sacrifice.

The three-year subsidy wasn’t just about money—it was meant to remove financial worries, allowing new pros to focus on improving their skills without external pressures.

And after three years, if a player had shown results, losing the subsidy wouldn’t matter anymore.

"Then why does Wu Zhixuan always complain about being broke?"

Yu Shao suddenly thought back to all the times Wu Zhixuan had sent him memes of an empty wallet with only a few coins inside.

At the time, he had genuinely believed she was struggling financially.

"Turns out, even someone as 'righteous' as Wu Zhixuan can be a liar. She’s not as innocent as I thought!"

At that moment, Ma Zhengyu cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone.

"Now, when your name is called, please step forward to receive your dan certificate."

"Men’s Division: Yu Shao, Su Yiming, Jiang Xiahua, Fang Haoxin, Bai Jingchuan, Zhu Yi."

Hearing his name, Yu Shao focused and stepped out of the crowd.

Immediately, all eyes locked onto him.

The moment his name was announced, the journalists and cameramen in the hall lit up like hungry wolves catching the scent of fresh meat.

The clicking of shutters filled the air as flashbulbs exploded like fireworks.

Though the Promotion Tournament wasn’t as prestigious as professional events, these reporters knew exactly what was coming—once the results were published, it would cause a massive stir.

Even though this wasn’t a major international event, for young Go players, it was the equivalent of college entrance exams—a career-defining moment.

Since the tournament had still been in progress until now, reporters had been forbidden from interviewing players or reporting results to avoid interfering with the competition.

But now?

The tournament was over.

"Quick! Take more shots!"

Zhang Feng, a seasoned reporter, urgently instructed the photographer next to him.

"Get close-ups!"

"I know, I know, stop rushing me!"

The cameraman adjusted his lens, aiming directly at Yu Shao, pressing the shutter relentlessly.

Zhang Feng exhaled sharply, his eyes gleaming with shock and admiration.

He had initially expected this year’s tournament to be a clash between Zhuang Fei and Fang Haoxin.

And while he had correctly predicted an intense rivalry…

He had never imagined it would be between two entirely different players.

The pre-tournament favorite, Fang Haoxin, had dropped into the losers’ bracket and barely managed to secure his promotion.

And Zhuang Weisheng’s son, Zhuang Fei—who had been expected to shine—had failed to qualify entirely.

Meanwhile, Yu Shao, a completely unknown name before the tournament, had dominated the field, crushing the competition with a flawless record to secure his place as a professional player.

Zhang Feng couldn’t even begin to imagine the reactions this report would trigger.

"This is going to be a massive headline!"

"Oh, and make sure to get plenty of shots of Su Yiming when he gets his certificate!" Zhang Feng added quickly.

"And don’t forget Xu Zijin during the women’s division!"

"Relax, I’ve been doing this for years—I know exactly who to focus on," the cameraman replied with a grin.

Yu Shao soon reached Ma Zhengyu, accepting his dan certificate.

"I’m finally a professional..."

Looking down at the certificate, the words "Professional 1-Dan" stared back at him.

His expression became subtly complicated.

At last, he had officially stepped through the door into the professional Go world—a realm that was both deeply familiar and entirely foreign to him.

Not long after, Su Yiming and the others also stepped forward to receive their certificates.

Then, Ma Zhengyu spoke again.

"Women’s Division: Xu Zijin, Tian Wanwan, Chu Minqiao..."

Soon, the six female players also stepped forward to receive their certificates.

Among them, Xu Zijin stood out the most.

Even the journalists were just as focused on her as they were on Yu Shao.

Her identity as Xu Duanhua’s daughter, her strong performance, and her undefeated record—all combined to make her a sensational topic.

It was rare for a single Promotion Tournament to produce so many major headlines.

The reporters, pumped with adrenaline, continued firing their cameras nonstop.

"Congratulations to all twelve of you for becoming professional Go players!"

Ma Zhengyu addressed the crowd once more.

"I hope that as you embark on your professional careers, you continue to grow and achieve great results."

Then, he turned his gaze toward the remaining competitors.

"As for those who didn’t make it—don’t be discouraged. Keep honing your skills, and you’ll have another chance next year."

"Now, I will call forward those receiving Amateur 7-Dan certificates. Men’s Division: Zhuang Fei..."

The moment Zhuang Fei stepped forward, the reporters went wild.

The combined attention on Yu Shao and Xu Zijin didn’t even compare to the media frenzy surrounding Zhuang Fei.

"Shock! Zhuang Weisheng’s son fails to qualify and suffers a crushing defeat!"

Flashes exploded as reporters snapped photos like madmen.

Zhuang Fei’s face was grim as he walked up to receive his Amateur 7-Dan certificate.

Despite the fact that 7-Dan was an honor, seeing those words on the certificate felt like an insult.

His jaw clenched, and he lowered his head—filled with frustration.

But to the reporters, this was gold.

"Shocking! Zhuang Weisheng’s son was devastated by loss—his face filled with sorrow!"

Seeing the media pounce on him, Zhuang Fei quickly straightened up, pretending he didn’t care.

But the reporters were merciless.

"Shocking! Zhuang Weisheng’s son was already prepared for defeat—fully accepting his own elimination!"

Click! Click! Click!

The flashes were blinding.

As the tournament concluded, a new chapter in Go history had begun.