I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 287: A Deception for the Ages

As the stones continued to fall, the crowd calmed down, focusing intently on the board.

In the lower-right corner, White had settled the group with a humble second-line peep, but the board was still wide open. Though Black had secured the upper hand in the opening, the game was far from decided—there was still a long, grinding battle ahead.

Tap. Tap. Tap!

Time flew by with each crisp move.

After twenty more moves, Li You looked at the board and furrowed his brow slightly.

“After White lived in the bottom right, the moves that followed were nearly flawless. Black couldn’t find any weaknesses and had to reinforce his own positions and grab big points.”

“That said, there’s nothing really wrong with Black’s situation either.”

Even as he thought that, a faint sense of unease crept into Li You’s heart—he wasn’t sure why.

He wasn’t alone. Chen Shan beside him felt it too, though he couldn’t pinpoint the source.

Seven or eight more moves later, Yu Shao picked up a white stone and played again.

Tap!

14-15, Jump!

“A jump?”

Li You blinked.

That move was overtly aggressive. But earlier, Black had extended on the right, building solid influence. If White fought head-on there, it would likely backfire.

Li You started mentally calculating the variations—and suddenly froze.

He looked back at the board, eyes wide in disbelief.

Tap. Tap. Tap!

And then…

“Wait…”

Someone in the crowd stared blankly at the board, as if they’d just seen through something—and stood rooted in place!

One person. Two. Then eight…

Gradually, more and more people froze in shock. Their expressions shifted—from intense focus, to confusion, to stunned realization, until at last, their hearts filled with nothing but disbelief.

“How is that possible?!”

Everyone was asking the same question in their hearts.

Now that they reexamined the board, they finally saw—somehow, at some point, a shocking shift had occurred!

White had seemed to accomplish little on the left side.

And although White gained some territory on the upper side, somehow—without anyone noticing—he had built up a framework in the center!

And not just that—the shape was thick and solid. For a moment, it was nearly impossible for Black to invade without putting himself in serious danger.

White now forced Black to resort to reduction strategies instead of direct invasion.

And if Black couldn’t destroy White’s framework head-on...

“Then Black’s... at a disadvantage?!”

At that moment, Yu Shao picked up another white stone and placed it on the board.

You Yuhao stared at the board, disbelief flickering across his face, but he forced himself to remain composed and analyze the position.

After a long think, he finally picked up a stone and resumed playing.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Moves resumed rapidly!

“You Yuhao is hanging in there with everything he’s got... but the gap just keeps widening. White is even threatening Black’s eyes—Black’s forced to defend!”

The crowd fixated on the board, assessing the position, hearts pounding in disbelief.

Faced with disadvantage, You Yuhao unleashed a fierce and frightening counterattack, striking hard at the weaknesses in White’s shape.

But even under the storm of Black’s relentless assault, White held firm—and even launched counterattacks of his own, forcing Black to patch weaknesses instead!

Time continued ticking by, but around Table Three, no one noticed. All eyes were locked on the brutal clash of black and white stones.

“White left a gap earlier, but Black didn’t take the bait—even at a disadvantage. Looking back now... that was a trap!”

Someone gasped, eyes wide at the complex board. “If Black had attacked at that moment, White had clamps and peeps ready—he would’ve sacrificed stones and forced a fight. Black would've collapsed!”

“But... Black saw through it. That level of reading and judgment—it’s insane!”

“But the problem is, even with all that, Black still didn’t catch up in the midgame!”

Another black stone landed. After the intense midgame fight, the territory and life-and-death statuses had mostly settled. The game moved into the endgame!

“Endgame!”

Even now, the outcome remained uncertain. Though White held a sizable lead, the endgame could change everything.

Many dominant positions have been lost in the endgame due to sloppy play. In this phase, even a single point must be contested.

Most attack-oriented players aren’t known for their endgame—typically it’s the roughest part of their play. While a few have sharp endgame skills too, they’re rare.

After all, most attackers live by the motto: “If I can kill you before the endgame, why bother getting there?”

“But his endgame… it’s incredibly precise!”

With every new move, the crowd’s hearts trembled.

“In the midgame, Black was still hanging on, but now... the gap is widening?!”

The stones continued to fall. As both players pressed forward, a hushed silence spread through the room.

Soon, all the major endgame points were taken. Only small ones remained.

And then...

You Yuhao stared at the board, silent for a moment. Then he reached into his bowl.

Clack!

With the sound of stones clicking, he reached out and gently let two black stones fall onto the board—resignation.

Though there were small moves left, the position was clear. Even if White blundered slightly, the lead was unshakable.

Black resigns.

“White wins... by eight and a half points…”

Li You sat still, eyes locked on the board.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t accept White winning.

But… not like this.

If it had been a chaotic melee, and White came out on top through flawless calculation, he could accept that.

But this?

This wasn’t a clash of titans—it felt like Black just... slipped into defeat.

During the shift from advantage to disadvantage, there were several moves Black made that Li You wouldn’t have chosen.

But still, none of them were bad. They were just different ideas—reasonable alternatives.

So why had Black ended up behind?

Did he miss a slack move or a misstep that everyone had overlooked?

Li You wasn’t the only one thinking this. Everyone in the room was replaying every move in their minds, faces dazed.

At that moment, Yu Shao packed up his stones and stood up to leave.

The crowd hadn’t recovered yet, but their bodies instinctively parted, clearing a path for him.

Later that evening, Jiangling.

In a quiet Go room, the sound of stones echoed softly.

Zhuang Weisheng and Zhuang Fei sat across from each other, placing stones in turns.

Zhuang Fei stared at the board, deep in thought. After a long pause, he finally placed a black stone.

Zhuang Weisheng studied the board, then followed up with a move of his own.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of moves was crisp and clear.

Eventually, Zhuang Weisheng looked at the board and nodded. “I lost this one.”

Zhuang Fei let out a quiet sigh of relief. Though he’d won, there was no arrogance on his face.

After all, this game had reverse komi.

Reverse komi meant that Black went first and, instead of giving White komi, White had to give 7.5 points back to Black at the end.

In other words, if Black ended with 50 points, White would need at least 58 to win.

This rule was used for players with moderate skill gaps. For wider gaps, handicaps were used instead.

“Your play used to be sloppy. Even when you had moments of brilliance, you couldn’t fully realize their potential,” Zhuang Weisheng commented, pointing at one of Zhuang Fei’s stones. “But this connect—it’s measured and mature. You’ve broken old habits.”

“You’ve won reverse komi games before, but never this cleanly.”

“This time was different. You played beautifully. You barely gave me any chances.”

He smiled and looked at his son. “Looks like it won’t be long before I’ll have to play you even.”

Hearing that, Zhuang Fei clenched his fists in excitement, unable to hide the joy on his face.

Playing “even” meant Black went first, and neither side gave or received komi.

From childhood, he’d played his father starting with nine stones, then five, then three, then two—and finally reverse komi.

Now… he was reaching even games.

Just then, Zhuang Weisheng’s phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID and looked surprised, then answered. “Hello?”

“Teacher Zhuang, there’s a game you need to see!”

A young voice spoke urgently on the other end, skipping all pleasantries.

Even through the phone, the disbelief in the caller’s voice was obvious.

“Need to see?” Zhuang Weisheng frowned. “What happened in the game?”

“The match between Yu Shao, 2-dan, and Teacher You Yuhao in the National Master prelims... I don’t even know how to explain it—it’s weird.”

“I thought maybe You Yuhao made a mistake, but I’ve been reviewing it with Xie Jun, Zhu Tianhao, and others—and we can’t find a single flaw!”

Hearing “Yu Shao,” Zhuang Fei looked up in surprise.

Zhuang Weisheng glanced at his son, then replied, “Alright. Send me the game record.”

“I’ll send it right now. Hanging up.”

The line went dead.

Zhuang Fei, still riding the high of his father’s praise, suddenly looked deflated.

“I still can’t beat Dad even with reverse komi... but Yu Shao’s already strong enough to play him even. And he’s only three years older than me...”

Zhuang Fei clenched his fists again, feeling bitter.

A buzz—Zhuang Weisheng received the game record and immediately began recreating it on the board.

Across from him, Zhuang Fei watched silently. After the first seven moves, he froze.

“Weisheng-style?”

It was a layout Zhuang Weisheng had first used in a world championship. It had since become a full-fledged opening system, named after him.

Ironically, Zhuang Fei rarely used it—even though he excelled at it. He didn’t want to be known only as “Zhuang Weisheng’s son.”

Zhuang Weisheng frowned slightly at White’s next move—but continued placing stones.

“A one-space high approach?”

Zhuang Fei blinked.

Then came 16-12, two-space high pincer!

With those moves, the basic shape of the Demon Blade joseki was forming. If White followed up with a large knight, it’d become the Demon Blade!

But that wasn’t played anymore. If White went large knight, Black would deviate and profit using his side stones.

Then Zhuang Weisheng played the next move.

“A jump?”

Zhuang Fei couldn’t believe it.

“This... isn’t this the exact same line from Dad’s famous game against Go Sage An Hongshi?”

In that match, An responded to the two-space pincer with a jump. Zhuang followed with a jump, then came another jump from White—only for Zhuang to unleash a stunning diagonal.

That match was so iconic, no one dared repeat the line again.

But here... after reviewing the rest of the sequence, Zhuang Fei was stunned.

White didn’t jump again—but attached at 3-3. After Black haned, White pulled back, and when Black stood to destroy the eyes and challenge life-and-death...

White simply...

Peeped at the second line to live!

Zhuang Fei was baffled.

Sure, the second jump wasn’t good due to Black’s diagonal.

But this? Living by peeping on the second line? That wasn’t great either.

Even with corner territory, the points weren’t impressive. He might’ve been better off jumping twice for outer influence.

But as the board filled in, Zhuang Fei’s expression began to change.

“Dad…”

He stared at the board, stunned. “What... is this? How is this even possible?”

Zhuang Weisheng frowned too.

He stopped replaying the game and began clearing the board—until the moment of that second-line peep—and said: “Let’s analyze this sequence together.”

Zhuang Fei nodded and began breaking down the moves with his father.

The more they analyzed, the more Zhuang Fei was shocked.

“Nothing’s wrong!” he blurted. “Every move Black played was fine! I can’t find any mistakes!”

None of Black’s plays were obviously bad.

There were alternatives, but Black’s actual choices were also sound.

Then why had the game flipped?

After White lived on the second line, the game should have been good for Black—just a matter of converting advantage into a win.

“Black didn’t blunder... but the pace was slow,” Zhuang Weisheng finally said. “After White lived, Black should’ve immediately expanded or used his thickness to devour.”

“But in seeking solidity, Black slowed down. White disrupted him, and he couldn’t build a framework or capitalize on his influence.”

“That’s how he slowly fell behind—without even noticing.”

He placed out a variation: “If Black had moved faster here, the outcome might’ve been very different.”

Zhuang Fei froze.

He quickly grasped what his father meant. “So you’re saying... that second-line peep... was actually a good move?”

“Not exactly ‘good’—it’s more of a decoy. A trap, with deep intentions.”

As he reset the board, Zhuang Weisheng explained: “It gave White life, yes, but it also neutered Black’s two-space pincer. And combined with the one-space approach and jump, it pushed Black low and constrained his movement.”

“So Black had to act fast—expand the center and leverage his influence. But if he moved too fast, his shape became thin, and White could attack.”

The beauty of Go lies in its constant trade-offs—thickness versus speed, risk versus reward.

He laid out another variation: “Had Black played faster, there would’ve been a sharp fight. But Black’s influence here is immense—he likely would’ve had the upper hand.”

Zhuang Fei’s mind buzzed.

Even if the peep wasn’t great on its own, as a trap, it was genius. If Black took the bait, he lost. If he didn’t—he still might.

A deception.

Most pros avoid such tactics—they’re risky. If the opponent sees through it, you’re left vulnerable.

But this?

This was no ordinary trap—it was a world-class deception, almost indistinguishable from proper play. It was camouflage.

If not for this intense postgame analysis, who would’ve ever seen through it? Everyone thought it was just a survival move.

Even now, after the game, so many couldn’t figure out what that move really meant!

Even Zhuang Weisheng—only after a thorough breakdown—finally saw through it.

Which meant...

If this had been the first time he encountered that second-line peep...

Even Zhuang Weisheng might’ve fallen for it!

Zhuang Fei didn’t know what his father was thinking.

But he could guess—there was no way he was as calm as he looked.