I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 339: Go Master

The National Master Tournament main event was being held at the Eastern Go Academy in Donghai City, while the Go Master Title Match was taking place in Jiangling.

Three days later.

The main event of the Go Master Title Match finally kicked off in the Southern Region.

“Today is Su Yiming’s debut match in the title tournament, and his opponent is… Han Ying, 9-dan!”

In the hallway of the Go Academy, Ding Huan took a deep breath and quickly made his way toward the Handtalk Room. Thinking about Su Yiming’s opponent today, he felt a mix of tension and anticipation.

“Yu Shao faced off against Li You, 8-dan, in his first match, and now Su Yiming’s up against Han Ying, 9-dan. I wonder how this will end.”

Soon, Ding Huan reached the door of the Handtalk Room. He gently pushed it open and was immediately greeted by the sight of two players already seated on either side of the Go board.

To the left sat a teenager around seventeen or eighteen, wearing a white shirt, his hair tousled, eyes calm.

To the right sat a middle-aged man with thick eyebrows and sharp eyes, dressed in a black suit. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his expression solemn.

On the wall hung a scroll that read “Discussing the Way While Seated.” The bold calligraphy danced like dragons and phoenixes, and beneath it, the two players sat in silent confrontation, a clash already brewing.

Su Yiming vs. Han Ying.

Seeing this scene, Ding Huan instinctively held his breath. Even his steps slowed, his movements becoming cautious and quiet as he entered the room.

He glanced at the board and noticed only a few stones had been played. That was a small relief.

“Good, the game’s still in its early stages.”

Ding Huan quickly took a seat at the journalist section beside the referee's table and looked at the board.

“This opening… Han Ying is playing Black and opened with a 3-3 Point and Low Approach. Su Yiming, as White, played a Diagonal Small Point.”

A year ago, seeing Han Ying open with a 3-3 invasion would have shocked Ding Huan—but now, it barely registered. It had become just another standard opening.

At that moment, it was Han Ying’s turn to play. He stared intently at the board, as if nothing else existed in his mind. After a moment, he picked up a stone and slowly placed it.

Once Han Ying moved, Su Yiming followed quickly, placing his stone on the board.

Watching the back-and-forth, Ding Huan couldn't help but sneak a glance at Han Ying, emotions swirling.

“Back during the Flame Inheritance Match, the 9-dan pro who mentored Su Yiming... was Han Ying.”

“That tournament was about top-tier players guiding new talents—and Han Ying was the mentor.”

“Who would've thought that the once-rookie Su Yiming, barely a year into being a professional, is now playing Han Ying as an equal in a title match?”

“He’s even reached a point where not even Han Ying, giving it his all, can be sure of a win.”

“Han Ying must be feeling all sorts of complicated emotions right now.”

Ding Huan glanced at the referee and the recorder beside him and noticed their expressions were a little odd as well. They kept glancing back and forth between Han Ying and Su Yiming.

Still, as the stones fell and the game began to take shape, the others in the room set aside their stray thoughts and immersed themselves in the board.

“The board’s dead even. Two-point difference at most. No one's gained an edge.”

Yu Shao, watching the board from afar, thought quietly to himself.

“Even though it’s even now, Su Yiming’s style is similar to Shen Yi’s—strong at managing the center and building frameworks. But this match probably won’t allow for big frameworks.”

“Han Ying, former holder of the Tengen title, is still incredibly solid. It seems there’s still a gap between Su Yiming and Han Ying…”

Just then, Han Ying, after a long pause, picked up a stone and placed it down once more.

Tap!

Column 12, Row 15—Diagonal!

“A diagonal—Han Ying’s still as steady as ever. He could’ve gone for a high knight’s jump, but instead, he chose the most solid, stable diagonal. No openings, no risks.”

Ding Huan mentally ran through the possible follow-ups, wondering, “How will Su Yiming respond? Will he connect?”

But to his surprise, Su Yiming fell into a deep contemplation.

This diagonal was a very standard reply. For White, it shouldn’t have been hard to respond. A simple connection, for example—exactly what Ding Huan was thinking—wouldn’t be a bad move at all.

But Su Yiming… was thinking.

And he kept thinking.

One minute passed. Then five.

Still no move.

The Handtalk Room remained silent.

Then ten minutes.

Su Yiming still hadn’t played.

Ding Huan’s expression finally showed his confusion. The referee and recorder exchanged looks, their faces full of uncertainty.

“Sure, how players use their time is up to them, but using fifteen minutes here—on such a simple response...?”

Ding Huan stared at the board, puzzled. “What’s he thinking? What kind of follow-up could he possibly be considering? Is he really going to bloom a flower from this?”

Han Ying also furrowed his brow slightly, arms crossed as he waited for Su Yiming’s move.

Finally—after nearly twenty minutes of deep thought—Su Yiming reached into the bowl, picked up a stone, and slowly placed it down.

Tap!

Column 7, Row 14—Attach!

“Attach?”

Seeing that Su Yiming had spent nearly twenty minutes thinking, only to play an ordinary attachment, the expressions in the Handtalk Room grew even more bewildered.

“After all that thinking… it’s just a plain ol’ attachment?”

Ding Huan felt a pang of disappointment. He had expected some astonishing move. But in the end, Su Yiming had chosen the most common response.

This attach was no different from the diagonal he had predicted—standard, straightforward.

Han Ying also looked a bit puzzled, but quickly responded.

And then—almost as if making up for the twenty-minute delay—Su Yiming began playing at lightning speed.

Tap!

Tap!

Tap!

Move after move.

After more than ten exchanges, Han Ying placed another stone.

Tap!

Column 16, Row 7—Jump!

Clack!

The sound of stone against stone rang out!

The next moment, Su Yiming’s gaze sharpened. He reached into the bowl and placed a white stone on the board.

The board, already tangled and intricate, now welcomed a new star in its galaxy of stones.

Tap!

Column 7, Row 11—Push!

Seeing this move, Han Ying paused, and his face darkened. His ears turned red with sudden emotion.

Ding Huan was stunned. His mind buzzed as he stared at the board, eyes fixed on that single white stone as though it were the sun itself.

“...Su Yiming.”

“Black’s moves were all solid and steady. But that one move—it shattered Black’s formation and broke free of the encirclement!”

“That move… was perfectly timed!”

Suddenly, a realization dawned on Ding Huan, recalling how Su Yiming had instantly played his previous moves.

“No...!”

“Maybe it wasn’t perfect timing!”

“Maybe—he created the timing!”

“He sees farther than any of us. That’s why he spent so long thinking!”

“He already saw it all back then!”

“When he spent twenty minutes and played that attach—he had already seen the entire game!”

The game continued. Stones clashed endlessly on the board.

Tap!

Tap!

Tap!

No one knew how much time had passed.

Inside the Handtalk Room, everyone was staring blankly at the board in the distance.

It was dense with black and white stones, overlapping and entangled—dizzying to look at.

Especially in the center—the players had engaged in a brutal war. Four major black groups were completely cut off. White, too, had taken heavy damage—but managed to slaughter all four black groups.

Clearly, White had established an unprecedented formation in the center. Black had no choice but to invade, and both sides clashed in a blood-soaked battle of encirclement and escape!

It looked like a tragic two-way defeat, but everyone watching felt a chill down their spines.

In the end, even though Black fought desperately—mutually destructive—it was still Black who perished.

Yes, both sides were wounded—but what if Su Yiming had anticipated this exact outcome from the start?

If so, then this entire match… was even more terrifying.

Ding Huan watched as Han Ying slowly reached into the bowl, pulled out two black stones, and extended his hand toward the board.

His fingers opened.

Tap. Tap.

Two stones fell.

Han Ying had resigned.

The match was over.

Even as Su Yiming packed up and turned to leave, Ding Huan sat frozen in his seat, staring dazedly at the board.

“Su Yiming…”

His mind drifted back to the spine-chilling suicide match between Yu Shao and Li You, three days ago.

“Yu Shao…”

“Their first steps toward becoming top Go players—they both won. Against elite opponents, they held their ground.”

“In just one year, every player who faced them—chose to resign. Every one of them—lowered their heads.”

“They’re climbing the pyramid of Go’s elite at a jaw-dropping pace.”

“What will the future of the Go world look like?”

“What kind of match… will they play next?”

“When? And as what?”

Ding Huan looked at the now-empty board in a daze.

“Their last match—they were 2-dan players.”

“In their next match… will they already be titleholders?”