I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 344: Sacrificing Flesh to Forge the Sword’s Spine

On the board, four stones had fallen—occupying all four corners, Black and White facing each other from afar like three pillars in a tripartite standoff.

“Just Two-Star versus Two-Star?”

Zhuang Weisheng stared at the board and couldn’t help but lift his head to look at Yu Shao.

“This is the most common opening of all—bar none.”

“And precisely because it’s so common, every Go player has deeply studied this layout. All its variations have been explored to the point of exhaustion, so it’s hard to gain an early advantage. As a result, it’s actually played less now.”

“Generally speaking, to maximize winning chances, players tend to avoid such openings where advantage is difficult to seize quickly. It’s a hot but cold layout.”

“But he still chose it.”

“Did he pick it on a whim, simply because he felt like playing Two-Star... or is it something else?”

And yet, even as Yu Shao mirrored with a Two-Star formation to contest the board, Zhu Xinyuan’s expression remained unmoved, eyes focused solely on the game.

“Next move—either a corner defense or a corner approach. One defends, one attacks—each leads the game in vastly different directions.”

Zhu’s mind was stripped bare of distractions, filled only with countless joseki patterns and the ceaseless clash of black and white.

In his calm eyes, it was as if he could see through this simple four-move board into a tangled future, into impossible life-and-death problems yet to unfold.

“But...”

“Because these two follow-ups are also so common—like Two-Star itself—they too have been over-studied.”

“If it were any other opponent, that’d be fine. But not him!”

“This boy... though still young, his moves are wild, unorthodox, and unpredictable. He can disrupt the game’s rhythm and seize control with bizarre logic!”

“To beat him, I can’t stick to convention—I need an unusual move!”

“I’m Black and have the first-move advantage. Despite giving komi, I must hold the tempo tightly in my own hands.”

“So… should I do it?”

Seconds passed. Then minutes. Zhu Xinyuan stared at the board but didn’t move.

The spectators exchanged puzzled glances.

It was only four moves into the opening. Each side had an hour and a half—not short, but certainly not long. A long think now made no sense.

Finally, after two more minutes, Zhu seemed to make a decision. A glint of light flashed through his gaze.

“Of course I know how difficult that opening is.”

“Everyone knows it’s hard to play—but if I want to control the tempo and shape the overall battlefield, this is the most effective option!”

“Once I play it, there’s no turning back. There’ll be no quiet territorial game—either Black or White will be annihilated.”

“Which means... this must end in a life-and-death struggle!”

“I have to seize the tempo with awe-inspiring presence and win through raw skill in an open brawl!”

“Every move must be braver, bolder, and riskier than the last!”

Finally, Zhu reached into the bowl. The stones inside clattered.

“Then let’s do it!”

Clack!

16th column, 10th row—Star Point!

When that stone landed, everyone watching involuntarily widened their eyes, some even leaning forward without realizing it.

“That move—Star Point!”

“Three-Star Formation?!”

Several young pros locked their eyes on the board, visibly startled, fists clenched tight.

Zhuang Weisheng lowered his eyes. “He really went for Three-Star…”

Gasps filled the room.

“No way—Zhu Xinyuan actually played Three-Star Formation against Yu Shao!”

“I haven’t seen anyone use that in ages.”

“Last time I saw a memorable Three-Star was in the Hero’s Pride Cup—Su Yiming’s match!”

“And in that match—his opponent was also Yu Shao!”

Yes.

This move—

Was neither a corner defense nor a corner approach.

It was... a side extension on a Star Point.

Everyone knew how hard it was to handle the Three-Star Formation. But it remained a favorite for its bold, sweeping strategy—a structure that inspired countless Go players.

Even in Yu Shao’s original world, where Go AIs thought it suboptimal, top pros still dared to use it in major matches.

Its beauty had endured through time—a sword of war, forged from human ingenuity, that even AI couldn’t extinguish.

Because even AI, which criticized the Three-Star... had still lost to it before.

Sacrificing flesh to forge the sword’s spine.

To play Three-Star is to abandon the corners, to stake everything in the center and wage war.

It was a declaration of all-out battle—a move that forged the Three-Star into a blade of destruction.

To play it meant to form a framework. To face it meant to invade.

The clash was inevitable. One side would fall.

Now, Zhu Xinyuan had unsheathed that blade once more—its sharpness sang across the board.

He lifted his head to look at Yu Shao.

“Come on!”

---

“Three-Star, huh?”

Yu Shao stared at the side Star Point stone. He could feel the surging fighting spirit from the other side of the board.

After a moment of silence, he reached into his bowl and gently placed a stone.

Clack!

14th column, 3rd row—Small Knight’s Move!

“No 3-3 invasion—he chose the small knight?”

Everyone froze.

That wasn’t what they expected.

In the Hero’s Pride Cup, when Yu Shao faced Su Yiming’s Three-Star, he used his signature 3-3 Point Invasion and gave the world a match that entered Go history.

That game had been devastating—both large dragons died, and the winner was decided in the endgame.

So naturally, everyone thought Yu Shao would invade 3-3 again.

But no—against Zhu Xinyuan, a former dual-titleholder, he instead chose the classic small knight’s move used before the 3-3 invasion became mainstream.

Zhu was surprised too, but remained calm and focused on the board.

Soon, he played again.

Clack!

16th column, 6th row—Single-Space Corner Defense!

Yu Shao quickly followed:

14th column, 17th row—Small Knight’s Approach!

“He ignored the Three-Star and approached the lower corner!”

Zhu’s eyes sharpened, and he responded:

16th column, 14th row—Single-Space Corner Defense!

So far, both top and bottom corners had gone through a standard exchange—White’s approach, Black’s defense.

Then Yu Shao made his move:

Clack!

15th column, 15th row—Probe (Peep)!

Gasps rippled through the room.

“A probe?! I’ve never seen this move before—it’s a new variation!”

“Instead of a silent tenuki for a big area, White’s probing Black’s response directly—demanding an answer!”

Zhu stayed focused. This wasn’t just a probe—it carried hidden intent.

“Ah… I see!”

Finally, Zhu reached in and placed his stone:

Clack!

16th column, 15th row—Connect!

Yu Shao immediately countered:

16th column, 18th row—Small Knight’s Move!

“So you thought I’d invade the 3-3 again?”

Zhu wasn’t surprised.

“No—I won’t fall for that.”

“The 3-3 might seem like the natural move, but that earlier probe and my connect favors White.”

He calmly reached for another stone.

Clack!

6th column, 3rd row—Small Knight’s Move!

“Wait—he didn’t invade 3-3, but counter-attacked the top-left?!”

Shock spread again.

Even young pros were confused. Why not the 3-3?

Only Zhuang Weisheng and Jiang Changdong stared silently, expressions darkening.

The younger pros reexamined the board—and suddenly realized the truth.

“So that’s it…”

“If Black invades 3-3, White may live—and that earlier exchange means White gains a slight edge!”

“Yes, only a slight one—but real!”

“And Zhu Xinyuan... saw through that!”

“Even that sliver of advantage—he refused to give up!”

“Instead, he tenuki’d and attacked the upper-left!”

The young pros were in awe.

“He calculated all that? Incredible!”

“This is Zhu Xinyuan, after all!”

“Just a simple probe carried that much depth—and we didn’t see it until he answered with a small knight!”

“Zhu Xinyuan dismantled the trap Yu Shao had set!”

As the crowd watched, Yu Shao remained impassive, meeting the counterattack stone-for-stone.

Clack!

3rd column, 6th row—Small Knight’s Move!

Next move—direct pincer would be strongest.

But Zhu recalled their previous match.

“If I directly pincer, White might have a way to pivot…”

“I need something stronger—more forceful!”

He stared at the board’s crisscrossing lines.

“Three-Star is all about frameworks—and frameworks mean attack.”

“I must apply pressure, force White to collapse!”

“No sneak attacks—he’ll sense them.”

“To break him, I must build overwhelming strength, so even if he sees it coming, he can’t resist!”

His eyes locked on a point.

“Here!”

He placed his next move—

Clack!

15th column, 3rd row—Diagonal Push!

“Crush White’s group. Fight to the endgame!”

Even after the move, Zhu stared at the board, gaze sharp as ice.

“No chances left for White.”

“We settle this—right here!”

When that move landed, even Zhuang and Jiang’s expressions changed.

“Diagonal push?!”

A young pro adjusted his glasses, overwhelmed by the elegance of the move.

“It’s... brilliant!”

“Everyone expected the pincer—but the diagonal push is genius!”

“If White extends, then Black pincers—completely changing the balance!”

“The extension makes White heavier, easier to attack!”

“It captures the timing and understands the light vs. heavy concept!”

Other pros watched in awe, sweat beading on their brows.

“Too strong. Way too strong.”

This game was nothing like their previous one.

Zhu was calm, ruthless—every move precise.

From the Three-Star to the tenuki to this diagonal push—he was going all in.

“This is Zhu Xinyuan—famous for his bold, fierce style, once the holder of two major titles!”

On the board—this stone at 15th column, 3rd row—shone brightly.

Someone looked at Yu Shao—and froze.

He was... calm.

Then Yu Shao reached into his bowl.

Clack!

And placed his response:

17th column, 3rd row—3-3 Point!

Ripples echoed.

The crowd fell dead silent.

Zhu Xinyuan’s pupils trembled. He looked up.

“3-3? Now?!”

Zhuang and Jiang both stared at the stone.

“He invaded 3-3 now?”

The normal response to diagonal push is an extension—because that’s the classic formation.

But Yu Shao didn’t extend.

He invaded 3-3.

“A probe!”

Jiang stared wide-eyed.

“That move is ridiculous. No normal person would play there—but it actually works!”

“It tests Black’s response—forces aggression!”

The follow-ups were complex, but Jiang already saw it.

“If Black blocks, White hanes up—connects—and Black suffers.”

“If Black blocks from below, White exchanges and forms shape on the right.”

“Only the toughest top-down block remains—but now White forced Black’s hand!”

“He didn’t just respond—he reversed the pressure!”

If White had extended, Black’s pincer would’ve been sharp.

But by invading now, Yu Shao made Black’s attack reactive.

One is active. The other is forced.

So why not just extend?

“Because… White refuses to follow Black’s tempo.”

“Even under attack—White wants Black to follow him.”

Zhu’s gaze darkened. He slapped down a stone:

Clack!

14th column, 18th row—Hane!

A killing move—cutting White off.

Yu Shao calmly answered:

18th column, 6th row—High Knight’s Move!

“So light—so elegant.”

A spectator whispered.

Beside him, a pro nodded quietly.

To amateurs, that move seemed brilliant.

But to someone like Yu Shao—this was just standard form.

He looked at the board, took a deep breath.

“Where will this game go?”

“Who will win—and who will fall?”

On the board, black and white stones clashed fiercely in the upper right.

Each move felt like bloodshed.

“Too close to call—both sides gain, both sides lose.”

Zhuang stared, entranced.

Another black stone fell:

Clack!

18th column, 10th row—Jump!

“This jump—both roots the group and builds central influence.”

Everyone leaned forward.

This game would end with one side’s ruin.