I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 182: In the Hall of Go, No One Stands Above

Three hours later.

After tidying up the board, Yu Shao slowly stood up. His gaze briefly drifted toward Su Yiming, but he didn’t stay to watch his game. He simply retracted his gaze and walked toward the referee.

After reporting his result, he turned and left the playing room.

At Table Three, Han Anhui sat motionless, staring blankly at the board as if the stones were still there.

Elsewhere, Yang Shi had his head bowed low, his face hidden from view. He said nothing, but the way his shoulders slumped made it clear—he had taken a heavy blow.

Across from him, Su Yiming rose from his seat, walked to the referee, reported his result, and left without hesitation.

Half an hour later, at Table 21.

"N-No way..."

Chu Xiongdian's lips trembled as he stared at the board. The words were on the tip of his tongue, yet he struggled to say them.

His mind was in turmoil, unable to accept the reality before him.

He had been ahead—yet, move after move, the game had somehow slipped out of his grasp. Before he realized it, the situation had taken a shocking turn.

In the end, all he could do was struggle to stay afloat.

But it wasn’t enough.

At last, Chu Xiongdian lowered his head, forcing out the words through clenched teeth.

"...I lost."

After exchanging bows, Xu Zijin stood up, reported her result, and left the room.

Chu Xiongdian, however, remained seated, staring blankly at the board, questioning everything he thought he knew.

—

The first round of the Yingjiao Cup Preliminaries had concluded.

Normally, preliminary rounds of any tournament received little attention. Only after players advanced to the main event—stepping into the Handtalk Room, where games were broadcast online—did they start gaining traction.

For the finals, it wasn’t just about online streaming—sports channels would air live broadcasts, often featuring professional players providing analysis.

In major tournaments, even non-sports TV networks would broadcast the finals.

Yet, this first round of the Yingjiao Cup preliminaries had already sparked widespread discussion.

Because Yu Shao had won again—his record now stood at four consecutive victories.

According to inside sources, he had once again played a 3-3 Point Invasion in the opening.

The same Yu Shao who had declared—

"If my 3-3 move is wrong, then prove it to me with your own game."

And so far—every single game he played using this approach, he had won.

He remained undefeated.

Now, the question burning in everyone's mind was—

How far could Yu Shao go on the 3-3 path?

—

However, no matter how much attention Yu Shao was receiving, it paled in comparison to another event—

The Go Sage Title Match.

After holding the Go Sage title for two years, Zhang Dongchen was about to face his most formidable challenger yet—Jiang Changdong, a National Master.

Would Zhang Dongchen successfully defend his title for a third consecutive year?

Or would the veteran Jiang Changdong, despite his age, prove that he still had the strength to draw the bow of three stones and unleash his full might?

Or would the younger and sharper Zhang Dongchen once again fend off his challenger and cement his reign?

The media had already begun hyping up the showdown, building anticipation.

The day before the match, the Go Sage Title Match surged to the top of trending searches, sparking intense discussions across the internet.

—

On the day of the Go Sage Title Match, Yu Shao woke up early and took a taxi to the Southern Go Association.

Though he had no games today, he had been assigned to serve as the official recorder for the first match of the Go Sage Title Match in the Handtalk Room.

—

"Yu Shao?"

The moment he stepped into the association, he heard someone call his name.

Turning around, he saw Jiang Xiahua, looking surprised.

"I thought you were competing in the National Master Cup?" Jiang Xiahua asked as he approached. "You don’t have a match today, so why are you here?"

"Today is the Go Sage Title Challenge—I’m here as a recorder," Yu Shao explained. "Do you have a match today?"

"Yeah, it’s the fourth round of the Meijin Cup Preliminaries," Jiang Xiahua nodded. He then glanced at Yu Shao with a hint of admiration.

"The association must think highly of you," Jiang Xiahua remarked. "They specifically assigned you as a title match recorder."

"Huh?"

Yu Shao raised an eyebrow.

"I thought they just needed someone to fill the role. Why pick me?"

Usually, recording games was a task assigned to female players, not male professionals.

"You have no idea?" Jiang Xiahua rolled his eyes. "This is a title match. Who wouldn’t want a front-row seat to watch two top players battle?"

"Even if a player volunteered to be a recorder, the association wouldn’t necessarily agree. For major events like this, they always handpick the most promising lower-dan players for the job."

"Huh. I didn’t know that."

Yu Shao shook his head, then asked, "How have your matches been going?"

"I’ve played four games so far—won one and lost one in the Meijin Cup Preliminaries," Jiang Xiahua replied, his expression darkening slightly.

"But in the New 1-Dan Tournament, I lost in the first round..."

The New 1-Dan Tournament was a round-robin format, where every player faced every other competitor once.

It was considered the fairest system since every player had to play the full schedule, but the downside was that it took a long time to complete.

"You lost in the first round?"

Yu Shao was a bit surprised.

"Did you lose to Fang Haoxin?"

The New 1-Dan Tournament would first determine the top four players from each region, who would then move on to compete at the Central Go Association against the top players from other regions.

Given what Yu Shao had seen in the Promotion Tournament, he had expected Jiang Xiahua to perform well.

"No. I lost to Bai Jingchuan."

Jiang Xiahua shook his head.

"Bai Jingchuan has improved a lot," he admitted. "I misjudged the midgame position, fell behind by one crucial move, and lost by one and a half points in the endgame."

He exhaled deeply, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice.

"And it’s not just Bai Jingchuan."

Jiang Xiahua’s brows furrowed slightly.

"I watched Fang Haoxin’s games—he’s also gotten much stronger since the Promotion Tournament."

"I originally thought that with my current strength, I could at least play evenly against Fang Haoxin. But that was the Fang Haoxin from the Promotion Tournament."

"Now... I’m not so sure anymore. There’s a good chance I’ll lose."

"It’s not just me improving—they are too."

Instinctively, Jiang Xiahua clenched his fists.

"If my progress stalls, sooner or later, I’ll be left far behind."

Hearing those words, Yu Shao felt a complicated mix of emotions.

Go had always been like this.

Two months might seem short, but for some players, it was enough to undergo a transformation.

For others, forget two months—some improved every single day.

This was the true meaning of "If you haven't seen someone for three days, look at them with fresh eyes."

An opponent you easily surpassed a month ago might suddenly be your equal today.

And if another month passed, you might find yourself completely outmatched.

This happened all the time in Go—so often that no one found it surprising anymore.

Every Go player was like a ship sailing the vast ocean, navigating through raging waves and fierce competition.

And the only choice was to keep moving forward—because if you slowed down, those behind you would catch up and surpass you.

In his past life, Yu Shao had once believed that if the Way of Go was a hundred, then he had already grasped fifty.

But when AI emerged, violently blasting open the doors of Go’s highest halls, the entire world suddenly realized—

There was no one inside.

—

"They’re getting stronger, but I haven’t stopped either. The outcome is still undecided."

Jiang Xiahua shook his head and smiled. "Alright, I should head to my game. Hopefully, I can win this one."

"Good luck," Yu Shao said.

He put aside his thoughts and waved as Jiang Xiahua left.

Only after watching Jiang Xiahua’s figure disappear did Yu Shao exhale lightly and turn toward the Handtalk Room.

The further one advanced in Go, the harder it became to break through and improve.

But right now, Yu Shao was walking a path of breaking and rebuilding—a road of transformation.

—

Before long, he arrived at the Handtalk Room, the venue for today’s match.

Pushing open the door, he stepped inside.

Inside the room, several cameramen were busy adjusting equipment.

One was fine-tuning the camera angles.

Another was securing a tripod.

A third was adjusting the aperture on a DSLR camera.

However, the central chess table—the battlefield for today’s match—remained empty.

Neither of the two competitors had arrived yet.

The moment Yu Shao entered, Ding Huan, already seated in the press area, looked surprised.

"Yu Shao, 1-dan? What are you doing here?"

At the mention of his name, the cameramen in the room froze for a moment.

Then, almost in sync, they turned their heads toward Yu Shao, curious expressions on their faces.

After all, over the past few days, his name had been everywhere.

"I’m today’s game recorder," Yu Shao explained as he walked to the recorder’s seat.

Then, he glanced at Ding Huan.

"You’re the reporter for today’s match?"

"Yeah, I’m covering today’s game," Ding Huan nodded. He didn’t seem too surprised that Yu Shao was the recorder and even smiled.

"This match is gonna be huge," he said. "I have a feeling it’s going to be an absolute bloodbath."

Then, as if remembering something, Ding Huan chuckled.

"Oh, by the way, do you know who’s commentating today?"

Yu Shao shook his head.

"Chang Yan, 9-dan, and Kong Zi, Meijin," Ding Huan revealed.

"Chang Yan, 9-dan, once held the Go Sage title for a year. I bet his emotions are going to be all over the place while commentating today."

Yu Shao raised his eyebrows—that was news to him.

—

At that moment, the door to the Handtalk Room swung open again.

A middle-aged man, around forty years old, strode inside.

He wore a light gray suit and a black tie.

His sideburns were streaked with white, his eyes slightly narrowed, and despite his average height, he carried an unmistakable aura of sharp intensity.

"Jiang Changdong, National Master, has arrived?"

The moment he saw the man, Ding Huan’s eyes lit up, and he greeted him with a wide smile.

Jiang Changdong turned toward Ding Huan and nodded politely.

"I’m here," he replied.

As he was about to shift his gaze away, his eyes suddenly landed on Yu Shao, seated at the recorder’s table.

He paused—surprise flashing across his face.

He had heard this name before.

Recently, Yu Shao’s reputation had exploded online—even Jiang Changdong had taken notice.

Noticing Jiang Changdong’s gaze, Yu Shao gave him a small nod in greeting.

Jiang Changdong nodded back before finally looking away and making his way toward the central chess table.

As he walked, he asked, "Has Zhang Dongchen, Go Sage, arrived yet?"

"Not yet, but he should be here soon," Ding Huan replied. "Players usually enter fifteen minutes before the match."

Then, he grinned.

"Congratulations on defeating Li You, 7-dan, and earning a spot in the Go Sage Title Challenge. After all these years, you’re still as strong as ever."

"Haha, hold that thought until I actually win the title," Jiang Changdong chuckled, shaking his head.

"Zhang Dongchen may be young, but he’s no pushover. If I lose, how can I still be as strong as ever?"

Ding Huan laughed but found himself momentarily speechless.

After all, while Jiang Changdong had a positive record against Zhang Dongchen in past encounters, a title match was different.

The chances of him losing weren’t small.

—

Not long after, the Handtalk Room’s doors swung open again.

And this time, it was Zhang Dongchen, Go Sage, who walked in.

—

Yu Shao had met Zhang Dongchen once before.

Like Jiang Changdong, Zhang Dongchen was also wearing a suit today.

The moment he saw Jiang Changdong already seated, his brows furrowed slightly.

Then, his eyes shifted—landing on Yu Shao, sitting at the recorder’s table.

For a brief moment, his expression froze.

But it lasted only an instant before he quickly regained his composure.

Yu Shao met Zhang Dongchen’s gaze and gave him a small nod.

Zhang Dongchen stared at him for a moment longer, then looked away and turned toward Jiang Changdong.

Without hesitation, he walked to the opposite seat, pulled out his chair, and sat down.

As Zhang Dongchen took his seat across from Jiang Changdong, the faint smile on Jiang Changdong’s face gradually disappeared.

Underneath the calligraphy scroll that read "Discussing the Way While Seated", the two players sat across from each other, and in that moment, the atmosphere in the Handtalk Room grew heavy and solemn.

Everyone instinctively held their breath.

Neither player spoke a word, yet the tension between them was palpable—as if fire and water could not coexist.

One of the Seven Major Titles—the Go Sage Title—would be decided over this best-of-five match.

And this was Game One.

Whoever claimed victory in this first battle would seize the early momentum, setting the tone for the rest of the series.

Thus, in the coming game, both players would pour everything they had into crushing their opponent—fighting to the death, unwilling to concede even a single step.

But this game would also be a true "discussion of the Way."

A battle of black and white, yin and yang, life and death, motion and stillness, thickness and thinness.

This duel of minds would capture the attention of the entire world.

—

Not long after, Ma Zhengyu and another referee arrived, taking their seats at the referee’s table.

They, too, remained silent, sitting upright with unwavering focus.

"Time is up!"

After a deep breath, Ma Zhengyu spoke in a steady and serious tone.

"Each player has three and a half hours, with a one-and-a-half-minute byo-yomi per move. Game One will determine turn order via coin flip. Afterward, the players will alternate colors for fairness."

In a best-of-five format, players took turns playing Black and White.

Though the komi system provided compensation for White, many professionals preferred playing Black. At the same time, there were players who excelled with White. The alternating colors ensured a balanced competition.

Ma Zhengyu paused briefly before continuing.

"You may begin the turn-order selection."

—

Hearing this, Jiang Changdong reached into his bowl first, grabbing a handful of white stones.

Zhang Dongchen followed suit, taking two black stones and placing them on the board.

In the end, the result was—

Jiang Changdong to play Black first. Zhang Dongchen to play White.

—

"Please guide me."

"Please guide me."

After exchanging bows, the battle officially began.

—

"It’s starting."

Yu Shao’s gaze remained fixed on the board, eyes sharp as he awaited Zhang Dongchen’s response to the opening move.

He, too, had high expectations for this game.

Jiang Changdong studied the board for a moment before reaching into his bowl and placing his first stone.

Snap!

Column 16, Row 4—Star Point.

"A Star Point opening?"

Yu Shao took note of the move and smoothly moved his mouse to record it, clicking on the upper-right Small Point as he followed the game.

Zhang Dongchen did not respond immediately.

He furrowed his brows slightly, thinking for over ten seconds before finally reaching into his bowl.

With a soft click, he placed his stone.

Snap.

Column 4, Row 4—Star Point.

—

Though the game had only just begun, every move was made with the utmost caution.

No one dared to be careless.

Even at this early stage, those watching could feel the weight of every stone played—each one carrying an undercurrent of silent aggression.

Snap, snap, snap...

The tension in the room was suffocating.

Every spectator was fully absorbed in the match, barely daring to breathe for fear of disturbing the players.

Meanwhile, Yu Shao continued to observe while recording the game, his fingers moving smoothly over the mouse.

—

The game unfolded with a Star-Small Point vs. Star-Small Point opening.

Black formed an Unassailable Corner with a Small Knight’s Enclosure in the lower-right.

White responded by approaching the upper side with a Flying Approach.

Neither side was willing to concede any ground—both launching their own strategies, move for move.

It was once again Zhang Dongchen’s turn to play.

—

After a brief period of deep thought, Zhang Dongchen reached into his bowl and placed his next move.

Snap!

Column 16, Row 14—Block!

Yu Shao swiftly recorded the move.

Without hesitation, Jiang Changdong followed up.

Column 3, Row 3—Attach!

—

"He attached directly at the corner?"

Yu Shao’s brows twitched slightly.

This move wasn’t bad, but the sequencing of Black’s plays felt a little strange.

"Instead of pressing from above, he chose to attach at the corner. If he had pressed, White might have opted to extend outward for territory..."

As Yu Shao pondered, Zhang Dongchen placed his next move.

Snap!

Column 3, Row 18—Hane!

Jiang Changdong immediately followed up—

Snap!

Column 8, Row 4—Two-Space Extension!

—

As Yu Shao continued recording, he noticed a subtle but unmistakable pattern.

Though the differences in move order were slight, there was something hidden beneath the surface.

"Jiang Changdong has laid an invisible trap for White."

"If White follows the standard variation and extends, Black won’t hane from above—instead, he’ll push directly against White’s 17th-line stone!"

"If that happens, White may have no choice but to abandon stones!"

—

At that moment, Zhang Dongchen recognized the danger and made his decision.

Snap!

Column 15, Row 6—Jump!

—

"White has sensed the threat and chosen to tenuki instead!"

Yu Shao’s eyes gleamed as he quickly recorded the move.

From the press section, Ding Huan’s eyebrows twitched in surprise.

"A tenuki here?"

He hadn’t expected White to ignore the sequence and play elsewhere.

After a moment of contemplation, his expression suddenly changed.

"If White had extended, would Black have pushed instead of haning?"

"If Black pushed, White would face a crucial decision!"

"If White blocked, the resulting fight would leave two Black stones cutting into White’s shape like daggers!"

"If White chose to capture Black’s two stones instead, White would need two extra moves to do so—leaving the outer position weak, while Black would suffer no loss in territory."

Ding Huan took a deep breath, visibly shaken.

"And this is just the opening. Even now, their back-and-forth is terrifyingly intense. Every move is hiding a deeper fight!"

—

After this exchange, the atmosphere in the Handtalk Room subtly changed.

Both Zhang Dongchen and Jiang Changdong’s expressions turned cold.

Both understood—the opponent in front of them was no ordinary rival.

The previous exchanges were merely testing the waters.

The real battle had only just begun.

—

Snap, snap, snap!

The sound of stones striking the board filled the silent room.

One by one, pieces fell.

All eyes were locked onto the board.

This was a battle without words—a war fought only in black and white.

Time passed unnoticed.

Everyone had forgotten the world outside—all that existed was this game.

—

"Brilliant!"

Ma Zhengyu, staring at the board, muttered, "Even now, they remain perfectly balanced!"

"White leads in territory heading into the midgame," Ding Huan noted, chewing on his pen cap. "But Jiang Changdong, despite being behind, still has plenty of chances."

Yu Shao, gripping his mouse, frowned slightly.

"White’s position is thin. Black has immense potential. If Black solidifies his influence and launches an all-out attack, White may struggle to hold on."

"At this point, White can’t play conventionally anymore. He needs to win with an unexpected strategy."

He turned to glance at Zhang Dongchen.

Zhang Dongchen’s brows were tightly furrowed, deep in thought.

Across from him, Jiang Changdong was equally serious, locked in concentration.

A full thirty minutes passed in silence.

Then—

Snap!

Column 14, Row 8—Atari!

—

"Atari?!"

Yu Shao’s eyes flickered.

"An excellent move—precise judgment!"

"With this, White has no choice but to engage in a decisive fight!"