I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 322: The Great Avalanche… Doesn’t Hold Up?

Long after the game ended, people in the main commentary room began to trickle out.

There was still an awards ceremony coming up, but most had already lost interest in that.

“The battle started gripping from the opening, and the midgame, centered on invasion and frameworks, was truly the core of the match.”

“No—looking back, what led to Higashiyama Kaoru falling behind wasn’t the invasion at all. On the contrary, it was those few moves that seemed unrelated to invasion, those framework-building moves that left too much aji, leaving Black unable to follow through.”

“That’s true. But if we reason it backward like that, even our initial understanding was flawed.”

“How so?”

“In the opening phase, we thought Black and White were evenly matched. But actually… even though locally it looked even, when you looked at the board globally, Black’s position wasn’t great from the beginning.”

“…We were all just completely unaware at the time.”

“Still, Higashiyama Kaoru played very well—a glorious loss.”

“But he still lost to Yu Shao. That guy is just... unbeatable.”

“Whatever the case, both of them were... insanely strong.”

“I’m already looking forward to their next match. By then, they’ll both have grown, sharpened themselves, and when they face off again… what kind of game will that be?”

As everyone left the commentary room, they kept discussing the game. And in the moment they walked out the door, a wave of emotion washed over each of them.

Go feels like a world of its own. When a truly great game ends, all the battles and strategies dissolve like a dream, leaving behind a bittersweet emptiness.

This year’s team tournament concluded with a 4–1 result.

With Korea and Japan both losing matches—and China undefeated in two—China claimed the championship, Japan placed second, and Korea took third.

After the awards ceremony, the Chinese team returned to their review room and began replaying the game between Yu Shao and Higashiyama Kaoru.

“If it were me, I might’ve chosen to attach and then jump on move 19, setting up a mutual framework with White.”

Su Yiming stared at the board, contemplating. He placed a few stones and continued, “White’s push and cut would’ve started a complicated fight—not necessarily bad, but hard to control.”

Yu Shao looked a little surprised at that and nodded. “Attach and jump? That could’ve worked. But that’s not the line most players would even consider. Almost everyone would’ve gone straight into combat there, right?”

“‘He who does not contend has no rival under heaven.’”

Su Yiming smiled. “Sometimes when you force a fight, you leave yourself no escape. Leaving your opponent a path to retreat is sometimes how you leave one for yourself.”

He continued replaying the moves along the original game.

“That push and cut by Black was aggressive, but your follow-up—the attach—was a stunner. It caught everyone off guard.”

“But, if Higashiyama had gone for the framework instead of combat, you’d have had no choice but to build your own framework and wait.”

Yu Shao thought for a moment. “True. But the push and cut wasn’t bad either. The real problem came later in Black’s follow-up.”

“Follow-up?”

Wu Jieling frowned. “Which move?”

“You probably didn’t expect it, but the issue wasn’t in the upper right. That side was clean—no weaknesses. The real problem was in the lower left.”

Wu Jie reached into the Go bowl, placed a few stones, then quickly dropped another.

Tap!

Black: Column 13, Row 6 – Large Knight’s Move!

Yu Shao stared at the board. “That move—was the problem.”

The moment he said that, the faces of everyone in the room froze.

Even Su Yiming stiffened, staring at that stone.

“That was a problem move?”

Zheng Qin stared at the board in disbelief. “How?”

Back in the review room, when they first saw Higashiyama play that move, it had made them break into a cold sweat. It seemed effortless, flowing, elegant—borderline genius.

It didn’t just reach toward the left side; it also maximized central potential. It was subtle—only someone with real depth would even see it. A truly exquisite move.

In fact, it kicked off the entire fierce midgame fight that followed.

And now Yu Shao was saying it was wrong?

Yu Shao quietly looked at the board, clearly a bit conflicted.

That large knight’s move was a classic product of human intuition—beautiful, balanced, combining offense and influence. From a human perspective, it was excellent.

But through the lens of AI—that move failed to fully grasp the balance of territory and influence, misjudged the central value, and lacked efficiency. It wasn’t enough to hold off Japanese-style play.

“The strongest, most precise line for Black here… should’ve been an extend in the upper left.”

Yu Shao picked up a stone and played it:

Column 7, Row 3 – Extend!

“Extend in the upper left?”

Everyone was even more confused.

Yu Shao placed another sequence and explained, “If White crawls again, Black jumps. Then Black’s formation on the left becomes massive. White doesn’t have enough aji and has to invade alone. Both sides would be playing for life and death.”

After he laid it out, everyone looked at each other, still puzzled.

“But Yu Shao—this approach has a problem.”

Wu Zhixuan looked at the board, frowning. “It’s big, sure, but it’s way too loose. White clearly has invasion options. The risk for Black is huge. How is that better than the large knight’s move?”

Everyone turned to Yu Shao—clearly they agreed with Wu Zhixuan.

That kind of play gave Black a massive framework—but exactly because it was so big, White’s invasion would be brutal. If White lived inside, Black could collapse instantly.

It felt excessive.

Higashiyama’s midgame play had been seen as aggressive for trying to surround half the board. But Yu Shao was doing that in the opening?! That felt borderline irrational!

“Yes, White has invasion options. But success isn’t guaranteed. If you're afraid of risk, you often end up facing even bigger danger later.”

Yu Shao looked down at the board. “I believe: instead of chasing local efficiency, aim for global efficiency.”

“To find the best move, you have to accept greater risk. If Black can’t handle White’s invasion here—

Then Black deserves to lose.”

Silence.

No one spoke. Su Yiming also just looked at the board, saying nothing.

After a long pause, Le Haoqiang finally asked: “But... how can you judge that global efficiency is better than local?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out now.”

Yu Shao said calmly, eyes on the board.

Le Haoqiang looked completely stunned. “You think you’re definitely right? This kind of idea is way too out there. Ask a hundred players—every single one would say the large knight is better. That extend doesn’t even look like a good move.”

But then, Su Yiming shook his head. “No.”

Le Haoqiang blinked and looked at him.

Su Yiming stared at the board, picked up a Black stone, and placed it slowly.

“At least if you ask me...”

He looked at the stone he'd just placed. His eyes gleamed.

“I now think the extend is better.”

Yu Shao lifted his head slightly and looked at him.

Su Yiming also raised his head—and looked right back.

---

The next day, the Chinese team, led by Ma Zhengyu, headed to the airport to fly back to Jiangling.

“Su Yiming, I heard you played a private game with Higashiyama Kaoru last night?”

On the way to the airport, a male player in the same car asked curiously, “So, who won?”

“I did.”

Su Yiming looked out the window as he answered.

“You did? How was the game?”

Even Yu Shao turned to look at Su Yiming, clearly curious.

“It snowed.”

Su Yiming didn’t answer directly. He just stared out the window and said calmly.

“Snowed?”

The male player looked confused. “Didn’t it already snow yesterday?”

“In that game, Higashiyama Kaoru played a Great Avalanche.”

Su Yiming’s gaze remained outside. “And so… he lost.”

“Huh?”

The male player was totally lost.

So was everyone else.

What did a Great Avalanche have to do with Higashiyama losing?

Yu Shao blinked, but he didn’t look surprised.

He suddenly remembered the game he played against Su Yiming back during the Promotion Tournament.

That game had been a long time ago.

He wasn’t surprised Su Yiming would say something like this.

“The Great Avalanche...”

Su Yiming pulled his gaze back from the window. “...doesn’t actually hold up.”

“What?!”

Everyone in the car was stunned. Their eyes widened in disbelief.

“After forming the base shape of the Great Avalanche, White can atari on the second line, then hane. Black has no choice but to press on the third line, and White keeps crawling on the second.”

Su Yiming’s voice was calm as he explained:

“If we’ve already proven that the 3-3 invasion can work with second-line crawling, then that logic also applies here. The Great Avalanche must follow suit.”

“In the past, players avoided the Great Avalanche because crawling on the second line looked like a massive loss. But now... that’s no longer the case. In this line, Black collapses.”

That explanation struck everyone like lightning.

3-3 invasion?

Great Avalanche?

No one had ever thought to link those two together before. But now that Su Yiming had...

Everyone ran the math in their head—and the car fell silent.

Utterly dead silent.

Yes!

They had all misunderstood the 3-3 invasion’s implications.

Now that Su Yiming laid it out, the shock hit hard.

If you applied the thickness-and-thinness logic of 3-3 to the Great Avalanche—

Everything changed.

After the Avalanche, White could crawl twice on the second line.

Black would be forced to press on the third, leaving his outer stones thin and scattered.

In the future, those weak groups could be attacked.

Human minds are biased—losses leave deep impressions, while gains often go unnoticed. It’s a blind spot.

If you factor in the capture of the corner, the Great Avalanche doesn’t just leave Black in a bad spot—

It leaves Black in a losing position.

Everyone’s minds rang.

Even though they knew it was true, it still felt impossible to believe—

Or rather, they didn’t want to believe.

All these years...

Could the Great Avalanche actually be wrong?!

For a Go player, that kind of revelation was earth-shattering.

The Demon Blade doesn’t hold up.

Now, neither does the Great Avalanche.

The Three Most Difficult Joseki—if even one was debunked, it would shake the Go world.

But now, two of them… were false?!

They couldn’t imagine what kind of storm this would unleash if the world found out.

One male player stiffly turned to look at Yu Shao.

Suddenly, he remembered what Yu Shao said at the opening ceremony of this team tournament:

“Before me, not a single game could be called a great game.”

Now he finally understood why.

If the Great Avalanche was wrong—

Then all the masterpieces built on it... could they still be called masterpieces?

If the foundation was flawed—

Then no matter how brilliant the follow-up attacks, weren't they just... laughable?

“No!”

He suddenly realized something—

He stared blankly at Yu Shao’s profile.

“He never denied those games.

He just believed—”

“Those games… couldn’t be called great.

They weren’t worthy... of the word ‘great.’”

The car remained silent.

Everyone stared at Yu Shao, mouths open—but speechless.

And in that silence—

A terrifying thought crept into their minds:

If the Great Avalanche and Demon Blade are wrong—

Could the Large Diagonal Joseki be wrong too?

But they quickly shook that ridiculous idea away.

If all three of Go’s hardest joseki were wrong—

Then what was the last four thousand years of Go?

A joke?

So many players, spending their lives trying to unravel them—

If they were all wrong, what cruel irony!

“Yu Shao.”

Suddenly, Su Yiming called his name.

Yu Shao turned, confused.

“I want to play you again—on the real stage. Casual games don’t do it for me.”

Su Yiming locked eyes with Yu Shao.

“One day, when we both hold titles—let’s play again.

If I lose, I’ll surrender my title to you.”