I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go! -
Chapter 175: A Future Ahead
“Yu Shao, isn’t Zhang Dongchen kind of… strange?”
Wu Zhixuan chuckled. “It’s so hard to tell what he’s thinking. Even when he looks worried, he still seems like he’s smiling. That’s why people call him the ‘Smiling Tiger.’”
“Smiling Tiger?”
Yu Shao raised an eyebrow. Now that she mentioned it, even though Zhang Dongchen had looked deep in thought earlier, there had still been a faint, almost subconscious smirk on his face.
If this were a romance novel, a character like him would definitely be described as having a smile filled with hidden mockery—seven parts indifferent, three parts careless.
But using "Smiling Tiger" to describe him… wasn’t that usually an insult?
Wu Shuheng seemed to pick up on Yu Shao’s thoughts and explained, “Normally, yeah, ‘Smiling Tiger’ has a negative connotation. But in Zhang Dongchen’s case, it’s actually a compliment—it means his Go is just that good.”
He continued, “Think about it—he became a professional at thirteen with a perfect record, reached 9-dan at twenty-one, and that same year, he took the Go Sage title from Chang Yan, 9-dan.”
“Though he failed to defend the title the following year, he made a strong comeback two years ago, reclaiming the Go Sage title and even successfully defending it last year.”
Wu Shuheng sighed. “When Zhang Dongchen was around my age, he was already a high-dan professional. The gap is just too big.”“That’s why his nickname, even though it sounds negative, is actually a mark of respect. The fact that people use an ironic term to praise him just makes it even more memorable.”
Yu Shao was surprised.
So it was Zhang Dongchen who had taken the Go Sage title from Chang Yan?
He hadn’t known that. He had only been aware that Chang Yan had lost the title after just one year, but he hadn’t realized it was Zhang Dongchen who had dethroned him.
“The Go Sage main tournament is almost over, and the challenger match is coming up soon.” Wu Shuheng shook his head. “Now with this international challenge happening, Zhang Dongchen must be feeling immense pressure.”
As they chatted, the three of them walked into the Go Academy cafeteria.
Even though it was already past 2 PM, the cafeteria was still open. Go tournaments rarely had set mealtimes—players ate whenever their matches ended, so academy cafeterias stayed open all day to accommodate them.
At this hour, there were only a few people left inside.
But even so, as soon as Yu Shao walked in, heads turned.
People whispered among themselves, their gazes fixed on him.
After finishing their meal, the three of them headed for the academy’s entrance.
Yu Shao hailed a taxi, preparing to leave.
“Today was your first official pro match, right?”
As Yu Shao was about to get in the car, Wu Shuheng grinned. “Congratulations on officially becoming a professional player.”
“Thank you, senior.”
Yu Shao nodded and then waved at Wu Zhixuan. “See you later.”
“Bye-bye!” Wu Zhixuan waved cheerfully. “Stay safe!”
As Yu Shao’s taxi pulled away, Wu Zhixuan finally turned to Wu Shuheng, her curiosity overflowing.
“Brother, how did Yu Shao beat you?” She couldn’t hold the question in any longer.
She had been dying to ask this ever since their game ended.
During the Flame Inheritance Match, she had noticed Yu Shao’s bold and unconventional ideas during the opening.
Although most professionals still didn’t believe in the new 3-3 invasion variations, there was no denying that Yu Shao’s ideas were innovative and shocking.
And throughout that game, he had worked seamlessly with Kong Zi—even though the two weren’t teacher and student.
This meant his mid-game play was just as strong.
But how strong was he, really?
That was still unknown.
Hearing her question, Wu Shuheng’s smile gradually faded.
After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke.
“I’ve lost to lower-ranked players before.”
“But I never think one loss means someone is outright stronger than me.”
“In Go, victory and defeat are normal. Even if I lose badly, even if I get completely crushed, I’ll just tell myself I was careless. That I didn’t play my best.”
“I only admit someone is better than me if they beat me multiple times in a row.”
“And it’s not just me—most professional players think this way. We might admit someone is strong, but we won’t admit they’re stronger than us.”
Wu Shuheng looked up, recalling Yu Shao’s brilliant press move in their game.
“But this match was different.”
“Even though I only lost once, I already feel certain that Yu Shao is stronger than me.”
Hearing this, Wu Zhixuan’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Meanwhile, in the National Master Tournament preliminaries, most players were still locked in their matches.
However, at Table 16, where Zheng Qin and Ban Hao were playing, a crowd had gathered.
All eyes were fixed on the board, their faces showing a mix of shock and awe.
Ban Hao stared at the board, his jaw clenched tightly. His right hand reached into the Go bowl but hesitated—instead of picking up a single stone, he found himself gripping a handful.
A long silence passed before he finally forced himself to release the excess stones and place his move.
Across from him, Zheng Qin studied the board, his brow furrowing slightly as he analyzed Ban Hao’s latest move.
It didn’t take him long to decide. With razor-sharp focus, he reached into the Go bowl, his fingers brushing against the stones with a crisp clattering sound before swiftly placing his move.
Click!
Small Knight’s Move, Column 8, Row 15!
“He didn’t jump—he played a Small Knight’s Move instead?”
A murmur of surprise rippled through the spectators.
And then, as realization dawned, their expressions shifted from confusion to shock.
"Wait… can you actually play like this?"
Among the onlookers, the long-haired player who had walked with Wu Shuheng earlier felt his mind churn in turmoil.
"I thought Black, though behind, was still holding a solid position. I expected a close endgame battle. But this… this completely overturns that assumption!"
"This level of positional judgment… this depth of calculation…"
He sucked in a deep breath as he examined the board.
"White has a chance to kill Black’s dragon. And if he wants to do it, this is his one and only opportunity. With this Small Knight’s Move, he can dive into Black’s weak spot and force him into a kill trap!"
This was not an obvious move.
First, one had to recognize that it was even possible—to see through the board’s complexity and pinpoint this precise move.
At first glance, it looked like a crude move, a mere "crude push" (俗手).
But only through precise calculations could one realize that this so-called crude move was actually a masterstroke—a passive move that turns into an attack, a setup leading to the eventual slaying of Black’s dragon!
Seeing Zheng Qin’s move, Ban Hao’s forehead veins bulged, and his hand instinctively tightened around the stones in the Go bowl again, producing a harsh clattering sound.
He glanced at Zheng Qin, then back at the board.
His teeth clenched so hard that an audible click escaped between them.
And then—he fell into deep thought.
Gone was his pre-match confidence.
There was no trace of the unshakable composure he had carried at the start of the game.
Among the spectators, a 14-year-old boy looked up at Zheng Qin, his emotions in turmoil.
“Ten months ago, he wasn’t even a match for Ban Hao, a 6-dan player. But now…”
“…he has cornered Ban Hao, leaving him no way out!”
He himself had turned professional last year at the same time as Zheng Qin.
Back then, Zheng Qin had been much stronger than him. But he hadn’t cared—he had only been thirteen years old. He had a long future ahead.
By the time he reached nineteen, he was sure his strength would far surpass Zheng Qin’s.
But now?
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Maybe he would surpass nineteen-year-old Zheng Qin.
But when he turned twenty, could he still surpass twenty-year-old Zheng Qin?
And when he turned twenty-one?
He had always believed that his greatest advantage was his youth—that his future was limitless.
But now, watching Zheng Qin's meteoric rise, he realized that Zheng Qin’s future was just as bright as his own.
Or perhaps… even brighter.
He watched as one high-ranked player after another had fallen before Zheng Qin.
For the first time, he felt a sense of awe—and even a touch of admiration.
Even he himself didn’t realize it yet.
After what felt like an eternity, Ban Hao’s face turned ashen.
Finally, he reached into the Go bowl again, pulled out a stone, and slammed it onto the board.
The sound was louder than normal.
And in that single sharp echo, everyone could hear the raw emotion behind it—
Unwillingness.
Rage.
Murderous intent.
And, beneath it all—
Pain.
Zheng Qin remained completely unfazed.
His expression calm and cold, he studied the board for just a brief moment before picking up his next stone and placing it swiftly.
With only one and a half hours per player, and with the early game moving at a slow pace, both players had very little time left.
They were about to enter byoyomi.
From here on, White would go all-in, launching a full-scale attack on Black’s group.
And Black, having no other option, would have to fight back with everything he had.
It was going to be a brutal, no-holds-barred battle—life or death.
Click. Click. Click.
Stones continued to rain onto the board.
The tension in the room was suffocating.
No one dared breathe.
Every pair of eyes was glued to the board, unblinking, watching this terrifying, bloodless war unfold.
Then, after another fierce sequence—
Zheng Qin struck.
Click!
Atari, Column 7, Row 12!
A deathly silence filled the room.
Dragon slain!
Seeing this move, Ban Hao didn’t reach for another stone.
Instead, he stared at the board, his face alternating between pale and dark.
In the end, he lowered his head.
“…I resign.”
Zheng Qin, ever composed, bowed his head slightly.
"Thank you for the game."
Ban Hao gritted his teeth, but still forced himself to respond.
"Thank you for the game."
Immediately after, he hurriedly began clearing the stones, his movements rushed and frantic—as if hoping that erasing the board would also erase his humiliating defeat.
Zheng Qin slowly rose to his feet.
His gaze shifted to Table 6.
Seeing that both seats were empty, he let out a slow exhale.
Then, he turned toward the referee.
The referee gave him a small nod, acknowledging that he had witnessed the outcome of the match.
Zheng Qin clenched his fist tightly.
He looked back at Table 6.
"One more win… and I’ll be 3-dan."
And then, his eyes burned with determination.
"Yu Shao, I’ve been waiting for our third match."
"But this time… in the professional circuit!"
"I've waited a year and a half for this."
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