I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 152: How Can One Climb Without Steps?

Kong Zi suddenly became alert, quickly searching for more news about Zhuang Fei. It wasn’t long before a headline about Yu Shao popped up.

"Yu Shao, amateur player, sixteen years old..."

“So, this kid was the one who sent Zhuang Fei to the losers’ bracket, where he then faced Fang Haoxin and got eliminated?”

“Wait… how did Fang Haoxin end up in the losers’ bracket too? He lost to… Su Yiming?”

Even someone as seasoned as Kong Zi was momentarily stunned while reading the reports on the Southern Region’s promotion tournament.

Zhuang Fei and Fang Haoxin—both taken down by amateur players and forced into a showdown in the losers’ bracket?

What kind of absurd storyline was this?!

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all!

Then, as if struck by a sudden realization, Kong Zi’s eyes widened, and his expression lit up.

“Zhuang Fei has been eliminated, and this Yu Shao kid secured his rank with a perfect record. That means Zhuang Weisheng is very likely going to challenge him in the Flame Inheritance Match!”

As an old rival, Kong Zi understood Zhuang Weisheng far too well. The moment he saw the news, he immediately guessed what was going to happen next.

“Interesting… very interesting!”

Kong Zi became more excited the more he thought about it, his eyes gleaming.

“If I apply to be this Yu Shao’s partner in the Flame Inheritance Match and we defeat Zhuang Weisheng together… wouldn’t that mean Yu Shao has beaten both Zhuang Fei and Zhuang Weisheng?”

“Even though it’s just an exhibition match, the media will definitely frame it that way!”

The more Kong Zi considered it, the more thrilled he became. Without hesitation, he exited the news page and opened his contacts.

Before long, he found Ma Zhengyu’s number and dialed it.

“Hey, Old Ma!”

Hearing the voice on the other end, Kong Zi chuckled. “Come on, it’s just one loss. Winning and losing is part of the game. Do you think I’d take it to heart?”

“Mm-hmm… right, I wanted to discuss something with you.”

Clearing his throat, Kong Zi continued, “Normally, the Flame Inheritance Match pairs top-ranked players from the same region with new professionals, right?”

“But, you see, I take an interest in all young talents, regardless of which region they come from. After all, the future belongs to them.”

“So even though Yu Shao is from the Southern Region, I’d love to guide him. What can I say? I just enjoy helping the next generation.”

“I heard… there’s a Yu Shao, 1-dan, this year?”

“He may come from an amateur background, but achieving a perfect record in the promotion tournament? That’s a true talent! A hero isn’t defined by their origins, and I find him incredibly promising.”

“So, let’s do this—I’ll partner with him in the Flame Inheritance Match. Help him kickstart his professional career. What do you think?”

However, what Ma Zhengyu said in response made Kong Zi’s eyes bulge in shock.

“What?!”

“There are already several 9-dan players who applied to partner with Yu Shao? Including Chang Yan, 9-dan?!”

“Why is she, a female player, getting involved? Is she out of her mind? This isn’t how things are done! She may be strong, but since when do female pros partner with male rookies in the Flame Inheritance Match?”

Damn it—someone had the same idea as him!

Kong Zi gritted his teeth in frustration and quickly pressed on. “No, no, no! Old Ma, come on, the Flame Inheritance Match is just an exhibition match. The result doesn’t matter, and since Yu Shao has no mentor, you can pair him with anyone. You have to let me have this one!”

“Old Ma, we’re good friends, aren’t we? Remember two months ago when I was in Jiangling for a tournament and treated you to hot pot? You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

Jiangling, Southern Go Academy

In the academy’s cafeteria, Ma Zhengyu sighed as he hung up the phone.

A nearby referee, overhearing the conversation, grinned and asked, “Another one trying to partner with Yu Shao?”

“Kong Zi… the Meijin.”

Ma Zhengyu had almost referred to him as Tianyuan but caught himself mid-sentence—Zhuang Weisheng had reclaimed the Tianyuan title from Kong Zi. Now, Kong Zi held only the Meijin title.

Every time this happened, Ma Zhengyu couldn’t help but think of Zhuang Weisheng.

Over the years, champions had come and gone, but only Zhuang Weisheng’s Tenth Dan title remained unshaken. He had held it for twenty years, completely untouchable.

“Kong Zi? The Meijin?

The referee was stunned. “But he’s from the Northern Region. Why is he interfering with our Southern Region’s affairs?”

“This is rare. High-dan players usually don’t care much about the Flame Inheritance Match. Some even find it a hassle and avoid participating altogether.”

Someone chuckled. “It’s the first time so many top-ranked players have actively applied to partner with a new 1-dan they’ve never even met.”

Zhang Feng, a reporter for the Southern Go Academy, was also dining in the cafeteria. Hearing this, he nodded.

“Well, it makes sense. After all, Yu Shao defeated Zhuang Fei. Naturally, he’s attracting attention.”

“The funny thing is, we never actually leaked the fact that Zhuang Weisheng applied to be Yu Shao’s opponent in the Flame Inheritance Match. But for some reason, all these pros seem to take it as a given.”

The journalist across from Zhang Feng was puzzled. “Could Zhuang Weisheng himself have leaked the news?”

“No, he wouldn’t. That’s not his style.”

Ma Zhengyu shook his head. “They know because they are his rivals.”

“Yeah, it’s fascinating,” Zhang Feng mused. Then he turned to the journalist and asked, “Why is it that the people who understand you best aren’t your family, your friends, or even your colleagues, but the ones who want to utterly crush you?”

“Dude, why are you asking me?”

The journalist rolled his eyes. “I majored in journalism, not philosophy.”

At that moment, another referee asked Ma Zhengyu, “Since you’re in charge of the Flame Inheritance Match, have you decided who will partner with Yu Shao?”

Ma Zhengyu hesitated for a moment before replying, “I was still deciding, but since Kong Zi personally called me about it, I’ll give it to him.”

“If a Meijin is willing to travel all the way from the Northern Region to participate, it would be rude to turn him down.”

“Really?”

The referee smirked and teased, “I thought it was because Kong Zi treated you to hot pot two months ago.”

At that, the entire cafeteria burst into laughter—even Ma Zhengyu himself chuckled.

Then, suddenly remembering something, Ma Zhengyu turned to the journalist across from Zhang Feng.

“Ding Huan, you’ve been following the Fangyuan Cup, right?”

“It ended two days ago. Why hasn’t the official report been published yet?”

Ding Huan sighed deeply, looking utterly defeated.

“I don’t even know how to write it.”

“We got eliminated by the U.S. team, and the internet is already ripping us apart. No matter how I phrase it, it’s just bad news.”

He smacked his lips in frustration. “And I have to provide commentary on every match? This is painful…”

“Ugh, but fine. I’ll try to finish it today.”

The lively atmosphere in the cafeteria instantly became heavy.

“It’s true…”

A referee’s smile gradually faded as he spoke. “A decade ago, the overall level of Go in the United States was still slightly behind ours. But now, they’ve caught up.”

“European countries are also making great strides. Although their high-dan players still have a gap compared to us, in recent years, a number of outstanding young players have emerged.”

“And as for Japan and Korea… well, there’s nothing more to say.”

Hearing this, someone nodded in deep agreement and sighed. “Our country’s overall Go strength is still among the world’s best, but who knows how long we can maintain that position?”

“I always miss the era of Shen Yi. Back then, who in the world could stand against us? Not to mention Shen Yi himself—even players like Fang Xin were able to dominate the global Go scene.”

“But… that era is gone.”

For a moment, Ma Zhengyu remained silent. Then, suddenly, he shook his head and said, “Why do we always dwell on the past?”

“What is gone cannot be changed, but the future is still ours to shape.”

In his mind, Ma Zhengyu recalled the match between Yu Shao and Su Yiming during the promotion tournament. He took a deep breath, a faint smile appearing on his face.

“Unlike you all, I’m actually looking forward to the future.”

The turmoil of the outside world had nothing to do with Yu Shao at this moment.

Right now, he was playing an online game against Su Yiming.

In his room, Yu Shao’s expression was more focused than ever. His eyes were locked on the computer screen. After a long while, he finally moved his hand and gently clicked the mouse, placing another move on the board.

Click. Click. Click…

In the quiet room, the crisp sound of stones landing echoed continuously.

Although they weren’t physically in the same place, the computer had become their Go board, bridging the distance between them. Across the vast expanse of cyberspace, they sat facing each other, taking turns drawing stones from their respective bowls and placing them down.

After a long battle, a pop-up message appeared on the screen.

Su Yiming has resigned.

"After the endgame and counting the score, Black loses… by six and a half points."

Six and a half points—a decisive margin of victory.

However, despite winning by such a margin, there was no joy on Yu Shao’s face. His gaze remained fixed on the screen, his expression grave.

“The endgame, where every point must be fought for with absolute precision, is supposed to be my strength. In my past life, after undergoing AI training, I should have had the upper hand… and yet, it was an even match.”

“I had nearly a fifteen-point lead in the mid-game, but in the late middle-game and endgame, that lead was chipped away until I was only ahead by six and a half points.”

“I completely underestimated him.”

“Calling him a genius is an insult—this level of talent is monstrous.”

Yu Shao’s eyes grew increasingly solemn as he stared at the computer screen.

In his previous games against Su Yiming, the battles had always been decided in the mid-game. But this time, through their online match, they had fought all the way into the endgame—finally allowing Yu Shao to glimpse the full extent of Su Yiming’s strength.

“This was just an ordinary online match, with both of us playing in a relaxed state.”

“But precisely because of that, there were no external distractions. The outcome of this game was determined purely by skill.”

“And the conclusion is clear—he’s not as strong as me.”

Even though Yu Shao had now gained a clearer understanding of the gap between them, his expression only grew more serious.

“But if he gains the same understanding of Go that professionals in my past life had—if he learns to judge thickness, grasp positional nuances, and read the overall board with AI-era precision…”

“If that happens, and I remain stagnant, relying solely on my current aggressive playstyle—”

Yu Shao’s eyes sharpened.

“I will lose.”

Staring at the Go board displayed on the screen, Yu Shao remained silent. From this game—where the gap was still clear—he had, instead, sensed an unprecedented threat.

Slowly, Yu Shao closed his eyes.

This feeling… he had experienced it countless times before.

In his past life, as wave after wave of gifted young players rose to challenge him, he had felt the pressure, the threat, the anxiety.

But this time, in this life, the one chasing him was far beyond the level of those past prodigies.

This was Su Yiming—a true anomaly.

After a long pause, Yu Shao suddenly opened his eyes.

His gaze was as sharp as a blade, exuding an undeniable determination and fighting spirit.

The pressure was still there. The threat was still there.

But now, instead of worry, he felt excitement!

“I am no longer standing at the peak.”

“But in this life, I will climb even higher—to the absolute summit!”

Yu Shao took a deep breath, his eyes shining with resolve.

“If there were no rivals—no pressure, no threats—”

“Then how could I ever climb step by step to the top?”

"How can one climb without steps?!"