I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 170: The Meaning of Tengen

"A single move... T-Tengen?!"

The moment Jiang Xiahua saw the black stone land at Column 10, Row 10, his eyes widened in shock. He stared at the television screen in disbelief, as if he had just seen a ghost.

This move was even more absurd than 3-3.

3-3, at least, had historical precedent. Playing at 3-3 often led to the opponent gaining thickness and external influence, but it secured territory in the corner.

Tengen, however, was pure madness.

"Gold in the corners, silver on the sides, and grass in the center"—this principle had been a core Go theory for centuries.

In the opening, the corners were the most valuable, followed by the sides, and the center was the least efficient place to play.

The reason was simple:

Corners were the easiest to enclose—just a few moves could secure territory.

Sides took more moves to enclose but were still manageable.

The center required even more moves to surround, making it the least efficient area to claim territory.

The phrase "The strong play in the center" only applied to the midgame, when controlling the middle became crucial. But that very phrase emphasized just how difficult the center was to handle.

"What is he doing...?"

Yuan Wenyi was equally stunned. He swallowed hard, staring at the board.

"How is this possible... a first move at Tengen?"

Yu Shao also gazed at the screen, his eyes locked on that black stone in the absolute center.

At first, he was surprised.

But within moments, he understood.

"He's responding to me."

This was Su Yiming’s answer to the game Yu Shao had played yesterday.

Because of Yu Shao’s radical 3-3 move, Su Yiming had begun exploring entirely new ways to play—even if they seemed outrageous, even if they bordered on absurdity.

Jiang Xiahua couldn’t understand.

Yuan Wenyi couldn’t understand.

Most people watching probably couldn’t understand.

But Yu Shao could.

Because this move was meant for him.

Yu Shao’s emotions grew complicated.

"A move at Tengen… is this just blatant disrespect toward his opponents?"

Yuan Wenyi frowned. "Isn’t this basically wasting a move?"

Hearing that, Yu Shao shook his head.

"Respect or disrespect doesn’t matter. If it were truly meant as disrespect, then wouldn’t playing at 19-19 be even more insulting?"

Jiang Xiahua and Yuan Wenyi both froze at that.

He was right.

If playing at Tengen was a way to mock the opponent, then playing at the very edge of the board (19-19) would be the ultimate insult.

"Then why did he play Tengen?"

Jiang Xiahua furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

"I get it!"

Yu Shao looked at him in surprise. "You do?"

"He’s putting pressure on Fu Shunan and Zhu Yi!"

Jiang Xiahua took a deep breath, speaking with excitement.

"By making such an outrageous move, he’s shaking their confidence!"

"In a normal game, either side winning would be understandable. But if Su Yiming wins after playing Tengen, that would be completely unacceptable for Fu Shunan and Zhu Yi."

"The pressure on them is going to be immense!"

"Fu Shunan, in particular, will be under extreme scrutiny. He cannot afford to lose this game. That means he’ll be forced to push himself even harder than usual—and if he overcommits, Zhu Yi might not be able to keep up!"

Jiang Xiahua whistled in admiration.

"This is a genius-level strategy for a team match!"

Yuan Wenyi was completely dumbfounded.

"This actually works?!"

Hearing this, Yu Shao couldn’t help but chuckle.

Jiang Xiahua’s reasoning wasn’t wrong—but it wasn’t Su Yiming’s true intention either.

"Actually… a move at Tengen isn’t necessarily nonsense."

Yu Shao shook his head.

"...?"

Both Jiang Xiahua and Yuan Wenyi turned to him in disbelief.

"What do you mean?"

Jiang Xiahua looked at Yu Shao, utterly confused.

"You’re saying Su Yiming actually believes Tengen is a good move?"

"Tengen is actually a very strong position."

Yu Shao didn’t answer directly. Instead, after a moment of thought, he said:

"If you have a stone at Tengen, then during fights for the corners and sides, your liberties will never be an issue, right?"

"Right."

Jiang Xiahua hesitated, then nodded.

"If there’s a stone at Tengen, then in any capturing race in the four corners, it would be advantageous."

"But—"

Jiang Xiahua suddenly changed his tone.

"That advantage comes at the cost of wasting an entire move. And in the opening, every move can be worth dozens of points."

"Tengen doesn’t help secure territory at all. As long as White is willing to sacrifice a little efficiency to avoid capturing races, then Tengen becomes useless."

"And if that happens, Black will inevitably lose."

Yu Shao nodded.

He didn’t disagree.

This was exactly why Tengen had always been considered a bad move.

After a moment of thought, Yu Shao spoke again.

"But theoretically speaking… in Go, there does exist an optimal strategy."

"...An optimal strategy?"

Jiang Xiahua and Yuan Wenyi glanced at each other, puzzled.

Jiang Xiahua looked shocked.

"Go can’t possibly have a perfect strategy!"

"Go doesn’t have one now, because the board is 19x19."

Yu Shao glanced at Jiang Xiahua and asked,

"But what if the board was only 5x5?"

"5x5?"

Jiang Xiahua froze.

Then he thought about it carefully.

And then he realized something terrifying.

His entire body tensed.

"...Tengen would be a guaranteed win?!"

"Yes."

Yu Shao nodded. "If the board were only 5x5, a single move at Tengen would guarantee victory. The same applies to 7x7. But beyond that, Go undergoes a fundamental shift."

"A move at Tengen is weak not because it is inherently bad, but because we humans cannot grasp its full potential."

As he spoke, Yu Shao’s emotions grew complicated. He paused briefly before continuing,

"The world of Go is vast and incomprehensible. No matter who stands before the board, they will always feel their own insignificance and ignorance."

"Even after playing a million games, one might never fully understand its mysteries. No matter how much we explore, we are still fumbling in the dark."

"Seeking the one absolute answer on a Go board is beyond human capability. No one can achieve it—no one."

"A move at Tengen is seen as weak because its value is too difficult to quantify."

"A game that begins with Tengen follows a path with no precedents, no reference points, no fixed standards. Each move seems meaningless at first, but its true value is only revealed after many moves."

Yu Shao turned his gaze back to the computer screen, where White had finally responded, playing at Star Point (4-16).

"A move at Tengen often signifies a large-scale strategy, an approach that prioritizes massive frameworks over small territorial gains. But such a strategy is difficult to master. Those who attempt it usually fail, much like the infamous Three-Star Formation."

Yu Shao’s eyes flickered as he continued,

"But if someone could truly master the art of large-scale Go…"

"Then a move at Tengen might actually be…"

"…A pretty good move."

—

Silence.

Jiang Xiahua and Yuan Wenyi sat stunned, completely at a loss for words.

Since they had started playing Go, they had always known the saying:

"Gold in the corners, silver on the sides, grass in the center."

Because of that, they had never even considered whether a first move at Tengen could be viable.

But after hearing Yu Shao’s explanation, they had no counterargument.

Every word hit the mark—it was impossible to refute.

And for the first time, they were forced to consider a perspective they had never even thought about before.

"I finally understand why you were able to play that 3-3 move yesterday," Jiang Xiahua muttered after a long silence.

He exhaled deeply, looking at Yu Shao with a complicated expression.

"This kind of unorthodox thinking… I wouldn’t even dare to consider it."

"But what you’re saying does make sense."

"If someone could truly master the art of large-scale Go… then maybe Tengen really isn’t such a bad move."

Jiang Xiahua chuckled bitterly.

"But such a person probably doesn’t exist, right? If someone could pull it off, they’d be a literal God of Go—I can’t imagine anyone beating them."

They exist.

Yu Shao didn’t say it aloud.

But in his heart, he silently answered:

There is someone who can do it.

Or rather… there is something.

Go AI.

In his past life, Go AI had already played a Tengen opening.

And the result had been utterly terrifying—

A move that looked like a catastrophic blunder to human eyes was, in reality, only a 6% decrease in win rate.

In other words…

Tengen was only half a point worse.

And for human players?

A loss of half a point was imperceptible.

A move that seemed like an immediate disaster, a move that every professional had rejected for centuries, was actually barely a disadvantage in the eyes of an AI.

That was horrifying.

Because it meant that AI had nearly mastered the art of large-scale Go.

Through pure calculation, AI had determined that while Tengen was not optimal, it was nowhere near as bad as humans believed.

A half-point loss—could it still be played?

Yes.

Even in his past life, many professional players—including himself—had sometimes played slightly suboptimal moves for strategic purposes.

For example, choosing a flexible opening instead of rushing to secure territory, or opting for a more balanced position instead of an immediate advantage.

But if the entire world already knew that Tengen wasn’t that bad—why did no one play it?

Because…

No human Go player would ever believe they could play like an AI.

No one believed they could control a large-scale formation with the same level of precision as an AI.

No one believed they could calculate the long-term consequences of Tengen as perfectly as an AI.

That’s why no one dared to play it.

But unlike Yu Shao, Su Yiming didn’t know that.

He didn’t have the knowledge of a past life.

He didn’t know that AI had already explored this path.

He didn’t know the true mathematical loss behind Tengen.

And yet, he still played it.

Because he was searching in the dark, trying to find a way forward.

This was Su Yiming’s answer.

This was his response.

And this was his resolve.