I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 347: A Record Written in Blood and Tears

“This move… Black attached directly!”

Everyone instinctively took a deep breath. The intention behind this move was clear.

“Black is trying to live the group and force a positional exchange!”

It was indeed a strong move. If Black could pull off the exchange, there would still be a fighting chance.

But Zhu Xinyuan’s choice to attach caught everyone off guard.

Because aside from this move, there were other options—like a hane or a large knight’s move—that were far more stable and solid. The attach, by contrast, led to incredibly complicated variations.

The board was already deeply tangled. With this attach, the entire game would become blurred, unreadable.

“Zhu Xinyuan refuses to sit and wait for death!”

A spectacled young pro finally pushed up his glasses and whispered:

“Even in this position… he’s choosing complexity—waiting for a chance to strike back.”

---

Yu Shao silently stared at the board. His hand had already entered the bowl, feeling the cool texture of the stones. After a moment, he finally pinched one between his fingers and slowly placed it.

Tap!

Column 9, Row 8 — Attach!

Seeing where White placed the stone, Zhu Xinyuan’s expression turned extremely grim.

“As expected—he’s targeting my key stones!”

Zhu Xinyuan instantly responded, picking out a stone and slamming it down.

Tap!

Column 8, Row 6 — Hane!

Under everyone’s gaze, the two sides began clashing around the small upper corner.

Zhu Xinyuan’s face was now drenched in sweat. He stared at the board, frantically dropping stones one after another.

Tap, tap, tap!

“He saved the corner—but Black lost key stones. White thickened, and the center pressure on Black skyrocketed!”

Everyone was locked in, their emotions rising and falling with each move.

Black had tried to save a group and force a trade. White punishing the key stones was inevitable. Now that White had taken the initiative, the only question was: how would he launch his attack?

If Black could survive this onslaught, there might still be hope—a path to life from certain death.

But…

If Black couldn’t endure it, he’d be wiped out—completely buried!

The bridge had already been burned behind him—do or die.

Soon, after a few more moves, Yu Shao stared at the board, falling into deep thought.

You could hear a pin drop.

Everyone silently waited—for this move would likely decide the winner.

“The board is hazy—lots of options, each with its own logic. Hard to judge which is better.”

“In a complex and unclear situation like this, finding the one correct move is a true test of a player’s strength.”

Someone looked at the board, goosebumps rising:

“So—how will White attack?”

“This game, from opening till now, has already stunned the world… how will it end?”

Finally, after another moment, Yu Shao reached into the bowl and slowly drew out a stone.

Clack.

The stones rang like iron and jade.

Yu Shao lowered his gaze, staring at the board. Then, he placed his stone.

Tap!

Column 9, Row 17 — Extend!

Everyone’s eyes widened instantly. They stared at the board in disbelief—completely stunned.

“Extend?”

Even Jiang Changdong froze. His eyes blurred as he looked at the board.

“It’s not a jump, not a hane, not a knight’s move, not even a double hane. An extend?”

“Is this… creating a weak shape?”

Everyone stared blankly at the board. Their minds were rocked like never before.

On the board—because of this White extend—a shape that all players tried to avoid… had appeared.

A broken shape.

A shape that could be cleanly cut through, wrapped around, and surrounded. At best, you’d crawl to life. At worst, it was certain death.

And yet—White had voluntarily played it. Not just that—to attack with it!

“No—”

A flash of shock swept across Jiang Changdong and Zhuang Weisheng’s faces simultaneously.

“That extend… is actually brilliant!”

“If you really consider it—it’s a broken shape, yes—but the intent behind it is deep. The effect is incredible!”

Across the board, sweat trickled down Zhu Xinyuan’s face.

“In the most chaotic, unclear position, he saw the perfect opportunity—found a move no one should’ve been able to find!”

---

Silence.

The chess hall was deathly quiet.

Everyone stared dumbfounded at the board. Only the ticking clock on the wall filled the room.

Yu Shao looked down at the board, his eyes calm.

In his gaze, the entire game reflected back.

It was the same in his past life. The same in this one.

It had been so a thousand years ago. It would still be so a thousand years from now.

The world changes.

But one thing never will:

The breath-stopping battle across this board.

---

A long while passed before Zhu Xinyuan snapped out of it. He bit his lip, eyes filled with reluctance, and played again.

Tap!

Column 11, Row 13 — Small knight!

Yu Shao immediately responded without backing down.

Tap!

Column 12, Row 13 — Attach!

The board was already chaotic. Now, the air was heavy with even more murderous tension.

“This fight… will determine everything.”

Everyone stared at the board, knowing full well:

The final battle had begun.

“Territory is mostly decided. Life and death settled.”

“This is the last battle. The one that will end it all.”

“This game—already divine—how will this endgame unfold?”

“Black is behind—but still has a shot at a counterattack.”

“White is ahead—but if he slips… he could still fall!”

Every move now was a window into the player’s soul.

Watching Black’s every drop, even Yu Shao was a little moved.

“He’s playing… beautifully. So beautifully.”

Even Yu Shao hadn’t expected the game to end up like this.

He had sacrificed fifty points to seize the initiative—and still, he hadn’t crushed Black.

By now, normally, the game would be over.

But Black had held on—every move laced with unyielding will!

He had dragged it out this far—and still, hadn’t been cornered.

“Behind me… is the Go AI of my past life. Countless defeats holding me up.”

Yu Shao slowly lifted his head and looked at the opponent across the board—Zhu Xinyuan, gritting his teeth, glaring at the board in silent defiance.

“But behind him… who’s supporting him?”

In Yu Shao’s eyes, he seemed to glimpse countless shadowy figures behind Zhu Xinyuan.

Ancient national champions. All standing silently behind him—through the weight of history—watching this game unfold.

Tap!

Another Black stone fell.

“He is not alone.”

Yu Shao looked at the freshly played Black stone. After a moment of silence, he picked up another and played quickly.

“Still hope!”

Zhu Xinyuan clenched his back teeth. The sweat streaming down his face went unnoticed.

“White’s push is a probing move. My jump is strong—but I feel like he’s already planned for it.”

Zhu Xinyuan glared at the board, eyes burning with resolve.

“If I can cut off White here—I can fight a ko! Stay in the game!”

Clack!

Stone drawn and played.

“He’s cut White off!”

A young pro watching finally saw the intent:

“Even in such a hopeless position, he’s fighting back with a ko?!”

“Zhu Xinyuan… is a genius.”

“I’ll never in my life play a move like that…”

He stared blankly at the board, feeling the massive gap between himself and the players before him.

Using "genius" to describe someone older than himself felt strange. But he had no other word.

If he were in Black’s place, he’d probably have resigned. But Zhu Xinyuan had found the strongest move—and kept going!

Soon, White answered.

The young pro stared, speechless.

“Good… good move…”

The stones on the board were now tightly entwined.

White attacked viciously. Black held on by a thread. White was dominant—but Black’s resilience was terrifying. Even Yu Shao couldn’t break him!

And Black was always looking to counterattack!

The two tangled around the ko—each using it to gain ground.

Everyone held their breath. This life-or-death duel gripped every heart in the room!

Yu Shao furrowed his brow.

This game… should’ve ended long ago. He hadn’t expected such a challenge.

“If I take my time, the fight could drag on forever.”

“And in that time… one wrong calculation, and it’ll all unravel.”

“If I don’t go all-in—if I try to win cleanly—it won’t work.”

Yu Shao reached for a stone. His eyes sharpened.

Snap!

Column 11, Row 13 — Cut and capture!

“I have to burn the bridge. Leave no retreat. This ends… now!”

---

Cut and capture!

The sound echoed like thunder.

“He just cut off four Black stones?!”

Everyone’s scalp tingled.

It wasn’t a complicated move.

And maybe that’s why—it was terrifying.

White was saying: I’m cutting deep into your territory. There will be no compromise. Either I win—or we both go down.

But such aggression—White was plunging into Black’s heartland! The risk of being surrounded was massive.

“This is it!”

Zhu Xinyuan’s eyelid twitched. He bit down harder. After a beat, he threw down another stone!

“Black’s hanging by a thread—but White’s deep push is also on the brink!”

“This move will decide it all!”

Stones began falling again, back and forth without pause.

The game was nearing the endgame phase. Normally, by this point, the outcome should already be clear, the pace slower.

But not this game.

Even now, Black and White were locked together, tangled as one. The battle was still fierce, like fire and water—each move flashing with steel, with killing intent.

Tick... tick... tick...

The clock on the wall kept ticking away.

Minute by minute, time slipped past.

White launched a savage assault. Black tried everything, striving to enclose and kill!

Soon, another Black stone landed.

Seeing that move, someone’s expression changed.

A one-space jump.

Normally worthless for territory, almost negligible in points.

In fact, beyond the endgame, players rarely even touched such moves.

But now, Black played it.

“Just to seal off White… he’s putting everything on the line.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“White is being squeezed to death!”

Someone murmured, voice low and shaky.

The room stayed silent.

Everyone continued to stare at the board—speechless.

Black had used up every trick, every technique in the book.

White… had finally shown signs of collapse.

Yet strangely, no one reacted.

Yes, White looked dead.

But those scattered White stones—hanging by a thread—still glowed with something eerie and brilliant.

Watching the game now was like witnessing the aftermath of a slaughter.

The battlefield was littered with bodies, bones piled high—devastation everywhere.

Yu Shao stared at the board, plucked another stone from the bowl, and placed it softly.

Tap!

Column 19, Row 12 — Diagonal!

Zhu Xinyuan’s face had gone pale. He immediately responded.

The killing continued.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Across the board, Black and White kept fighting, endlessly.

Those watching looked on silently. Somewhere along the way, their shock had faded, replaced by an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

After a long time, Zhu Xinyuan made another move.

Column 9, Row 15 — Push.

People glanced at the board.

They had finally seen it—the life and death outcome.

Zhu Xinyuan had succeeded.

That invading White group, deep in Black’s heartland, had been crushed at immense cost.

White had been completely wiped out.

The result of the game had finally come into view.

Just then, Yu Shao dropped another stone.

Tap.

Column 10, Row 9 — Jump.

In the corner, the female recorder watching the board went completely still.

She didn’t write the move down for a long while.

The entire hall was silent.

Zhu Xinyuan looked at the newly placed White stone, opened his mouth as if to speak—

But no sound came out.

He just stared at the board.

And on everyone’s faces, a strange, hollow sorrow slowly emerged.

Yes.

Sorrow.

All of that, just for a tiny corner…

Black had sacrificed everything.

Yet those White stones—those supposedly dead stones—had reached out, hand in hand, across Black’s homeland, and rebelled.

White had been killed, yes. But it had also dragged Black down with it.

Even though White had been crushed, it had still struck back—a mutual death.

Across the rest of the board, Black’s territory had fallen.

For Black, even taking down White’s army—wasn’t enough to win.

“This is Zhu Xinyuan’s best game of his life.”

A bespectacled young pro whispered, staring blankly at the board:

“But even so… he couldn’t bring down that towering wall.”

“That wall was… just too high.”

He turned to glance at Jiang Changdong and Zhuang Weisheng.

Both of them were still silent, staring at the board, unmoving.

They hadn't spoken in ages. But their silence now said more than a thousand words.

This game—this epic—was like a live-action history of war.

In the opening, White’s light-footed, graceful advances—ignoring local threats—captured the very soul of guerrilla tactics.

Then came that terrifying mass sacrifice—throwing away fifty points. A suicidal move, dragging the whole game to the edge of collapse.

Then came twenty astonishing moves in the center, each like a divine stroke, flipping the entire board—reversing life and death.

And even that wasn’t the climax.

In the end, all for a corner, the game plunged into full-scale warfare.

Black paid an enormous price to subdue White.

Yet White’s “dead” stones united in Black’s territory—met on the battlefield.

And there, they shattered Black’s last defenses.

The whole game—breathtaking, soul-stirring, worthy of worship.

“It’s over.”

Gao Wanwan, the owner of the chess club, stared blankly at the board.

A game like this—played in her tiny club—should’ve made her proud beyond measure.

And yet… at this moment, all she felt was a deep, aching sadness.

Too brutal.

There’s a kind of game known as a “Record of Blood and Tears.”

She’d never really understood it before. She thought the name was melodramatic—too bleak for something as noble as Go.

She preferred titles like Divine Play, or Elegance Beyond Words.

But now, she understood.

How could this not be called a Record of Blood and Tears?

---

Time passed.

Zhu Xinyuan kept his head down.

He didn’t make another move.

He didn’t resign either.

The outcome was already clear.

Two games.

He had lost them both.

After the first loss, his heart had burned with frustration, even if it was shaken.

But now, all he felt was a hollow helplessness.

And... a deep confusion.

This was the hardest he’d ever fought in his life. The best he’d ever played.

Yet in the end—he still lost.

---

“So this is…”

Jiang Changdong finally looked away from the board. He turned toward Yu Shao.

“Yu Shao.”

Zhuang Weisheng still hadn’t looked up. He continued staring at the board—its tangled battlefield.

Seeing this game, he suddenly felt...

All the masterpieces he’d ever studied—

They now seemed dim by comparison.

---

Everyone remained frozen, watching the board. The entire chess club was dead silent.

Tick... tick... tick...

The clock on the wall continued ticking, unfazed by time.

Even though everyone could see the result, Zhu Xinyuan still hadn’t resigned.

Nor did he play out the pointless endgame.

At forty years old, a veteran, this was deeply inappropriate behavior.

But looking at this tragic battle, not a single person felt like judging him.

A few of the younger pros glanced at Zhu Xinyuan, head bowed, unmoving—and found themselves almost in tears.

This was Zhu Xinyuan.

The man who had once held two national titles at the same time—standing atop the Go world.

And now he just sat there—like a defeated soldier—head bowed, refusing to move.

No one knew what he was thinking.

But it had to be overwhelming.

He had fought with everything he had—only to be met with such a tragic, cruel defeat.

Words could not express it.

Only this silence, this stillness—sitting before the board—could speak for the turmoil inside.

---

Time passed.

Yu Shao didn’t speak.

He simply waited.

Finally, after a long while, in that unbroken silence, Zhu Xinyuan opened his mouth—voice barely audible.

“I lost.”

The room went quieter still.

Zhuang Weisheng and Jiang Changdong looked at him. Their expressions were impossible to read.

“Thank you for the game.”

Yu Shao finally bowed toward him.

“Thank you... for the game.”

Zhu Xinyuan also bowed. His voice was hoarse and trembling.

At last—this game, this war, was over.

Yu Shao was silent as well.

He looked at the board, then reached out to begin cleaning up the stones.

Just then, Zhuang Weisheng—who had not spoken since the midgame—finally opened his mouth again.

“Yu Shao, 3-dan.”

Yu Shao paused slightly. He turned his head and looked at him.

“We’ve never played on the tournament stage before, have we?”

Zhuang Weisheng stared at him steadily.

“I truly look forward to our game in the later rounds of the National Hand Championship.”