I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 341: He Only Lost Because He Chose To

Two days later.

Eastern Go Academy, Rest Area.

A middle-aged man in a suit, broad-shouldered and imposing, sat sipping tea. Opposite him sat Zhuang Weisheng.

“Teacher Zhuang Weisheng.”

The man poured a cup of tea for Zhuang Weisheng and handed it over. “Congratulations on making it to the second round of the winners’ bracket.”

“Thank you.”

Zhuang Weisheng smiled as he accepted the cup. “And congratulations to you too, Teacher Zhu Xinyuan, for advancing to the second round.”

Zhu Xinyuan looked up at Zhuang Weisheng, and suddenly recalled the conversation he had with Feng He yesterday. His expression grew quiet.

Yesterday, he’d run into Feng He, and they naturally ended up chatting. Inevitably, their talk turned to the main tournament game from the day before.

He had asked Feng He how he felt after playing against Zhuang Weisheng, and Feng He’s answer remained vivid in his memory.

Feng He had said that before the game started, he thought his chances of winning were high. After all, ever since losing the Ten-Dan title match, Zhuang Weisheng's performance had declined, suggesting his skills had slipped.

"But after that game, the only thought in my mind was this... The reason he lost the Ten-Dan title—was simply because he chose to lose..."

Zhu Xinyuan stayed quiet for a moment, then finally said, “You’ve changed a lot. Not just your game—your whole demeanor.”

“Have I?”

Zhuang Weisheng chuckled. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Probably not a good thing for us.”

Zhu Xinyuan stared at him and said, “After watching your match the day before yesterday, I feel like you’ve become stronger.”

“Thanks.”

Zhuang Weisheng gave a faint smile, raised the cup and took a small sip. “As a Go player, there’s no greater compliment than being told you’ve improved.”

After a moment of thought, Zhu Xinyuan asked, “By the way, Teacher Zhuang, what brings you to the academy today? You don’t have a match, do you?”

“I came to watch your game.”

Zhuang Weisheng smiled. “A match between Zhu Xinyuan—the player who once held both the Tengen and Meijin titles—and Yu Shao, who just defeated 8-dan Li You. That’s something worth seeing.”

“Yu Shao, huh.”

Hearing the name, Zhu Xinyuan’s expression unconsciously grew more serious. “In just one year, he’s gotten this far—and even beat Li You. Truly a fearsome rising star.”

“But even though Li You has great skill, he’s still young and inexperienced. I won’t lose.”

That line struck Zhuang Weisheng as oddly familiar. His mouth twitched as if to speak but in the end, he said nothing. He just smiled and shook his head slightly before sipping his tea again.

At that moment, outside the rest area, two young Go players were walking toward the match room, chatting along the way.

“Who are you playing against today?” the shorter one asked curiously.

“Zhuang Weisheng, 7-dan.”

The taller one looked serious, as if bracing for battle. “It’s going to be a tough fight.”

“Bai Jingchuan?”

The shorter one looked confused. “Who’s that? I don’t think I’ve heard of him. Is he strong?”

“He’s a player from the Southern Region. As for whether he’s strong…”

The taller one replied with a strange tone, “He was promoted just last year—same batch as Yu Shao and Su Yiming.”

“Holy sh*t?”

The short one froze, then his expression changed. “That’s freaking insane.”

Now that he thought about it, last year’s promotion tournament in the Southern Region was brutal—after all, it had monsters like Yu Shao and Su Yiming, and geniuses like Fang Wuxin and Zhuang Fei.

Who knew what the dojo trainees who qualified in the Southern Region last year had to go through?

If Bai Jingchuan made it through in that crowd, he had to be the real deal.

“Exactly...”

The tall player sighed deeply, full of despair. “Why is my luck always this bad?”

“Come on, come on. You’re already a senior 3-dan, higher than Bai Jingchuan. Even if he qualified in the Southern Region last year, it’s not like you don’t stand a chance.”

The shorter one tried to comfort him.

They continued chatting as they walked, soon passing by the rest area.

Just as the taller one was about to move on, he caught sight of the two men inside and abruptly stopped.

“What’s up?”

His friend looked confused.

“That’s Teacher Zhuang Weisheng and Teacher Zhu Xinyuan!”

The tall one pointed toward the rest area.

“What?”

The shorter one whipped his head around and looked in. Sure enough, there were Zhuang Weisheng and Zhu Xinyuan, sitting across from each other, drinking tea.

“Teacher Zhu Xinyuan is my idol! I finally get to see him in person!”

The short player looked thrilled. “When I was learning Go, I watched him sweep two major title matches—it gave me chills!”

“My idol is Teacher Zhuang Weisheng.”

The tall one grinned. “Wanna get a photo with them?”

“Let’s go!”

The short one nodded furiously like a pecking chicken. The two of them, hearts pounding with nervous excitement, stepped into the rest area.

“Teacher Zhuang, Teacher Zhu—can we take a photo with you?”

The tall one asked cautiously as they approached.

The room instantly fell silent.

Zhu Xinyuan was the first to turn and look at them. He smiled. “I actually have fans this young?”

“Of course!”

The shorter one was visibly excited, his face flushing red. “I’ve been watching your games since I was a kid. That match against Meijin Wei Lingfeng—man, it blew my mind!”

“To this day, you’re still my role model. The way you use that dominating style and incredible wrist strength to apply pressure step by step—it’s just brilliant!”

He was clearly a diehard fan, words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve always wanted to meet you, but since you’re from the Southern Region and rarely come to the East, I never had the chance.”

Zhu Xinyuan looked at him with slight surprise and nodded with a smile. “I’m happy to take a photo. But I’m not sure about Teacher Zhuang...”

“Of course, I’m in.”

Before Zhu Xinyuan could finish, Zhuang Weisheng stood up and smiled.

With both of them agreeing, the two young players could barely contain their excitement. They quickly pulled out their phones and snapped several “click-click” group photos with the two teachers.

After checking the pictures in their photo gallery and thanking the two players again, the young men finally left the rest area, visibly elated.

Zhu Xinyuan watched them go, only turning his gaze away once they disappeared from sight.

Lifting his cup again, he took a light sip and finally stood up. “The match is about to begin. I should get going. Teacher Zhuang, I’ll take my leave.”

Zhuang Weisheng nodded. “I’ll be here watching the match.”

“Alright. Watch me win.”

Zhu Xinyuan chuckled, then turned around and walked out of the rest area.

But the moment he stepped through the door, the smile on his face vanished—replaced by a solemn, battle-ready look.

He passed through the hallway and soon arrived at the entrance of the Handtalk Room, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Inside, the recorder, referee, and reporters were already seated. When they saw him enter, they all greeted him in unison: “Teacher Zhu Xinyuan.”

Zhu Xinyuan gave a dignified nod, exuding quiet authority. His eyes moved to the center table—no one sat on the other side yet. Clearly, Yu Shao hadn’t arrived.

He took his seat quietly.

Moments later, a creaking sound broke the silence—the door opened again.

Everyone turned their eyes toward the entrance, where Yu Shao stood.

He didn’t enter right away but looked directly at Zhu Xinyuan.

Although Zhu Xinyuan didn’t hold any titles this year, he was no stranger to the title scene. For most players, earning just one title was enough to be carved into their epitaph.

But seven years ago, Zhu Xinyuan held two titles simultaneously.

Even Le Haoqiang once beat Zhu Xinyuan in a single game, and that win was brought up over and over by others. That’s how highly regarded Zhu Xinyuan was.

Yu Shao had never met him before today, but he had studied several of Zhu Xinyuan’s famous games.

What stood out to him most, though, was the match where Zhu Xinyuan partnered with Jiang Xiahua in the Flame Inheritance Match. Jiang, much improved since earning his pro status, still dragged Zhu down in that game.

“Yu Shao, 3-dan.”

Seeing Yu Shao arrive, the referee took a deep breath and called his name.

Yu Shao nodded slightly, walked over to the board, and sat down across from Zhu Xinyuan.

“I’ve heard Jiang Xiahua mention you quite a few times.”

Zhu Xinyuan looked at him and said, “You and that kid were promoted in the same year, right?”

“Yes.”

Yu Shao nodded.

“When Jiang first qualified, he talked about you. I didn’t think much of it at the time.”

Zhu Xinyuan gave him a long look. “Back then, I never imagined that in just about a year, you’d be sitting across from me in an even game.”

The recorder and referee beside them went quiet too.

Not just Zhu Xinyuan—none of them had expected this.

Who would’ve thought that a boy who had only become a pro less than a year ago would now be a serious contender for a title match?