I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 272: My Go Skills Have Yet to Touch a Higher Realm

In the Chinese team's review room, Gu Chuan took a deep breath as he stared at the TV screen, his expression complex.
"It's over. Ten straight wins."

"Ten straight wins in the tournament," Le Haoqiang echoed, looking dazed as he glanced at the board.
"Hard to imagine... even playing ten games in a row, he still doesn’t lose?"

No one else spoke for a moment.

It wasn’t just the wins—it was the consecutive wins that were so astonishing. Maybe the ten opponents weren’t the absolute strongest, but holding out through ten games under tournament pressure? That was nearly impossible.

And more than that—they’d been here waiting for ten days and hadn’t even gotten a chance to play?

Zhou Wei suddenly realized something. He looked up at Su Yiming, who was still deep in thought, staring at the board.
"Su Yiming!"

Su Yiming’s thoughts were broken. He pulled his gaze from the board and looked at Zhou Wei.

"You have to challenge him tomorrow. If it’s you, I believe you can win—avenge the humiliation of the Hero’s Pride Cup."

Zhou Wei looked serious. "No matter what, he must be tired by now!"

Everyone else’s eyes lit up. Someone suddenly shouted, “Why wait till tomorrow? Go now! Right now, immediately!”

Su Yiming looked a bit speechless at first. He turned his gaze back to the board. The smile on his face gradually faded.

“I am waiting for my next game with him.”

Su Yiming stared quietly at the board and said,
“But not now. And definitely not tomorrow. If I’m going to face him in a match, I want it to be after I’ve also played ten consecutive games.”

“In short—I want our match to be determined by nothing but our strength.”

“Let’s go.”
He pulled his gaze from the board and gave a faint smile. “The tournament is over.”

---

In the Handtalk Room—

Yu Shao had just finished packing up the stones and was about to stand up when the referee suddenly snapped out of it and said,
“Yu Shao, 2-dan.”

Yu Shao turned his head toward the referee.

“I know you're tired, but you still need to head to the interview room for a quick post-match interview,” the referee said a bit sheepishly, regaining his composure.
“Reporters from all over the world have been waiting for ten days.”

Normally, if a player still has matches to play in the tournament, they’re not allowed to give interviews—to avoid affecting performance. You can only be interviewed after you’re eliminated.

But these reporters had waited ten full days.

This had never happened in the history of the tournament.

“Got it.”
Yu Shao nodded immediately. “I’ll go.”

Before he left, Zeng Jun looked back toward Hong Jun across the board.

Zhou Wei was still seated, staring silently at the board, head lowered.

Yu Shao thought for a moment and then said in English,
“I’ll be waiting for our future game.”

Zeng Jun suddenly looked up, meeting Yu Shao’s gaze.

Yu Shao gave him a slight nod—then turned and walked out of the room.

In this game, after he tenukied, he originally thought that massive dragon would live.
But Zeng Jun had countered by crawling on the second line, starting a ko fight, and ultimately slaying the dragon.

It wasn’t a total loss—White’s dragon wasn’t worth that many points, and it had a lot of dead stone value—but if Yu Shao hadn’t fully capitalized on that value, the game would’ve been lost.

In other words, after the dragon died, there could not be a single mistake.

Among the opponents Yu Shao had played so far, only Su Yiming, Wu Zhixuan, and now Zeng Jun had ever managed to slay his dragon.

“And in this match’s midgame, it was obvious—Zeng Jun’s understanding of thickness and thinness had changed. Some of my stones that might’ve once been seen as influence, he treated as isolated groups—and attacked aggressively.”

Walking toward the interview room, Yu Shao mentally reviewed the game.

The world was starting to change.

---

Not long after, Yu Shao arrived at the interview room.

Through the door, he could already see a crowd of reporters and cameramen pacing restlessly, faces full of impatience.

When Yu Shao finally appeared at the entrance, all their eyes lit up. They surged forward, recorders and cameras in hand, instantly surrounding him.

He was swarmed from all sides—front, back, inside, out.

“Yu Shao, 2-dan, how do you feel about today’s match?”
“Is it true that you’re self-taught in Go?”
“Ten straight wins in the tournament—a feat never before seen. What do you have to say about that?”

The reporters were from all over the world, all different backgrounds and accents, but they all spoke fluent Mandarin—no translators needed.

One question after another came flying in.
Yu Shao was clearly tired, but he still answered each one patiently.

Then a reporter, speaking somewhat clunky Chinese, asked:
“Yu Shao 2-dan, in Go’s ‘Ten Guiding Principles,’ one is ‘entering the opponent’s area should be done cautiously.’ But your shoulder hit at the unassailable corner today was absolutely shocking—it breaks this principle entirely.”

“Not just that shoulder hit—you’ve played 3-3s, bumped small points, and even launched an unexpected push against the Demon Blade. These moves have been nothing short of incredible.”

“So I—and I believe many others—are curious. What are your thoughts on Go principles? Like the Ten Guidelines?”

The room instantly fell silent. Everyone looked at Yu Shao. They’d all wanted to ask this.

Yu Shao thought for a moment and said,
“The Ten Guidelines are: Don’t be greedy, enter cautiously, attack with awareness of your own position, sacrifice stones for initiative, give up small for large, abandon danger, don’t rush, adapt accordingly, defend against the strong, seek peace when isolated.”

Then he paused—and smiled.
“But I believe… Go needs a new Ten Guidelines.”

The room fell deathly quiet.

Everyone could sense something was coming.
They stared at Yu Shao, holding their breath.

Yu Shao said:
“Fight decisively to win. Enter boldly. Attack and forget yourself. Sacrifice to kill. Take both small and large. Charge into danger. Speed brings thrill. Every move is a response. If the enemy is weak, strike hard. If you’re isolated, go down swinging.”

Hong Jun looked toward the crowd of reporters and added:
“That will be the new Ten Guidelines of Go.”

Silence.
Utter silence.

A long while later, the reporters finally began scribbling down this new Ten Guidelines.

Then came more questions—but everyone’s mind was still buzzing from what they’d just heard.

They all understood what this meant.

These Ten Guidelines weren’t just a theory—they represented a complete overturning of Go tradition.

This post-match interview would echo across the entire Go community.

The reporters looked at Yu Shao, their hearts filled with conflicting emotions.

“He’s only seventeen… Still so young… Where will he go next?”

There was only one Chinese reporter present. The rest were foreign.
But every one of them now felt an inexplicable anticipation toward Yu Shao.

---

Eventually, the interview ended.

Reporters slowly filed out, gazing up at the darkening sky outside, feeling a bit sentimental.

“Maybe… a new era really is coming.”

Inside the room, as the last of the journalists left, Yu Shao also turned to leave.

Just then, a voice called out from behind.

“Yu Shao 2-dan.”

He stopped and turned around.
It was the only Chinese reporter present—a slim, bespectacled middle-aged man.

“The chairman just messaged me. He asked me to check—would you be willing to do commentary for the second match of the tournament?”

Yu Shao blinked in surprise. “Commentary?”

“Yes.”

The reporter nodded. “Normally, to attract more attention, commentary spots go to famous high-dan players. But right now, there’s probably no one more talked about than you.”

“The Go Academy hopes you’ll do commentary. It’s not just about popularity—it’s symbolic of passing the torch. Would you be willing?”

He chuckled. “Of course, there’s a fee. And from what I hear, it’s quite generous.”

“Should be fine,” Yu Shao said after thinking.
Then he asked, “Has the player lineup for the second match been confirmed?”

“It has.”
The reporter smiled. “Zhang Dongchen, the Go Sage. Chen Shan, 9-dan. Kong Zi, Meijin. Chu Jingfeng, 9-dan. Zhu Huaian, Go Sage. Fu Shunan, Grandmaster. Fan Shengjie, 9-dan. Jiang Changdong, National Master. Lu Bo, 9-dan. Zhuang Weisheng, 10-dan.”

“You’ll be notified a day in advance. Rest well for now, Yu Shao. These ten days—you’ve worked hard.”

“Thanks.”
Yu Shao nodded and said goodbye before finally leaving the interview room.

---

He didn’t go home right away.
Instead, he returned to a nearby hotel to rest up, planning to head home the next day.

After washing up, Yu Shao sat on the bed and finally let out a long, exhausted breath.

Ten straight days of ultra-slow Go games…
No way he wasn’t tired.
He honestly wasn’t sure how he even made it through.

“But I gained a lot too. I can sense kill fights more clearly now.”

The ten matches replayed in his mind like a film reel.
He could clearly feel how he had changed.

“But it’s still not enough. There’s still a long, long way to go…”

“The world of Go is boundless. Even after playing a hundred games, you can’t grasp its full mystery. The answers lie on the board, yet I still can’t fully see them.”

“My Go skills… have yet to touch a higher realm.”