I Really Didn’t Mean to Play Go!
Chapter 46: Just Learning, Don’t Know How to Play

Returning to his rented apartment, Zheng Qin headed straight to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and splashed water on his face. Then, he looked up at the mirror.

“Three consecutive wins in the preliminaries. Just keep up the momentum and push through to victory!”

Taking a deep breath, Zheng Qin left the bathroom, prepared a bowl of instant noodles, and carried it to his bedroom. He opened his laptop and logged into his "Handtalk Chronicles" account as usual.

Handtalk Chronicles was the most popular online Go platform. Most amateur players sought opponents there to practice and hone their skills. Even professional players occasionally played games on the platform.

Beyond playing games, the platform also provided the latest news from the world of Go.

• “The Tenth Dan Battle Concludes: Zhuang Weisheng Defeats Li Junxian to Retain His Tenth Dan Title! Who Can Break Zhuang’s Unbeaten Streak?”
• “The New First-Dan Championship Is Approaching: Who Will Emerge as the Strongest First-Dan? The Wave of Youth Has Arrived!”
• “Congratulations to Amateur Player Han Fang for Winning the Second Amateur Open Championship and Achieving Amateur 8-Dan! From Auto Mechanic to 8-Dan: Han Fang’s Legendary Journey!”
• “The Annual Go Qualification Preliminaries Have Begun: Who Will Secure This Year’s Slots for Professional Players in the So-Called ‘Go Entrance Exam’?”

While eating his instant noodles, Zheng Qin browsed the latest news from the Go world.

After finishing his meal, he stretched, moved his mouse, and clicked on the "Match Opponent" button.

“It’s been a while since I’ve played online. Three consecutive wins deserve a little reward.”

Zheng Qin hadn’t played much online. The opponents he encountered were often too weak, sometimes abandoning large groups of stones mid-game. As a result, he gradually lost interest in online matches.

While stronger opponents could be found at higher ranks, climbing the ladder required time and effort—something Zheng Qin didn’t want to spend. Consequently, he had only played 24 games online, maintaining a perfect win record.

Before long, he was matched with an opponent.

“Their username is ‘Just Learning, Don’t Know How to Play’?”

Zheng Qin chuckled when he saw the ID.

But as he clicked on the opponent’s profile, he paused.

“Thirty-eight games… and a 100% win rate?”

“And this is someone who ‘doesn’t know how to play’?”

Zheng Qin wasn’t overly surprised. The internet was full of all kinds of players, including those who pretended to be novices despite clearly knowing how to play. It was akin to encountering high-rank players smurfing in low-rank matches in online games.

“Still, your luck’s run out meeting me.”

A faint smile appeared on Zheng Qin’s lips as he was assigned Black. He moved his mouse and placed his first stone on the upper-left star point.

His opponent, Just Learning, Don’t Know How to Play, quickly responded with a white stone at the 17th column, 16th row—Small Point.

The game progressed quickly, with both players placing about 20 stones.

“They’re not bad at all!”

Zheng Qin stared at the screen, surprised.

In these 20 moves, Just Learning, Don’t Know How to Play had responded well, with no glaring flaws.

“If there’s any issue, it’s that their choice of variations is a bit slow, relying on outdated moves rarely used nowadays.”

“These responses, while solid, allow Black to gain a slight advantage during the opening phase if played precisely.”

After a moment’s thought, Zheng Qin clicked his next move.

As expected, White’s slower responses allowed Black to gain an edge during the opening phase. The game gradually transitioned into the midgame.

Zheng Qin’s initial casual demeanor became increasingly serious.

Despite his advantage in the opening, White played a few clever moves after deviating from standard lines, even surprising Zheng Qin at times.

He couldn’t rapidly expand his advantage. Although Black still maintained the upper hand, White showed enough resilience to remain a threat. The final outcome would likely be decided in the midgame.

Just then, White placed a stone on the screen.

17th column, 7th row—Hane!

“White… has launched an attack!”

Seeing this move, Zheng Qin's expression subtly shifted.

After a moment of contemplation, he moved his mouse and placed a black stone.

Unconsciously, the game that Zheng Qin had intended to play casually as a reward for himself had now drawn him in completely.

As time ticked by, the room was filled only with the rhythmic clicks of the mouse.

Finally, after twenty minutes, Zheng Qin leaned back in his chair as if drained, his face covered in cold sweat.

“I lost…”

He stared blankly at the computer screen, his throat dry as he gazed at the densely packed board.

“I thought cutting off there wouldn’t be that severe, but after he cut and followed up with that probing sequence… I was completely… completely overwhelmed.”

Indeed, Zheng Qin had held a slight advantage during the opening.

However, when the game transitioned to the midgame and both sides abandoned standard patterns for raw tactical battles, the board’s development spiraled out of his control.

Despite his early advantage, the fierce combat in the midgame left him utterly outmaneuvered.

The white stones tore through his formation with an almost unstoppable force, obliterating his position entirely.

He was powerless to resist.

The feeling brought him back to that afternoon at the Mountain-Sea Chess Hall, during his second game with Yu Shao.

At that time, after playing a counter-hane, the situation hadn’t improved but instead collapsed completely, leaving him utterly crushed.

The sense of helplessness he felt then was nearly identical to what he was experiencing now.

It wasn’t until the countdown timer began to tick that Zheng Qin snapped out of his daze.

He quickly clicked to resign, then right-clicked on his opponent’s profile to send a friend request. In the public chat, he left a message:

[Heaven Rewards Diligence]: Are you a professional player?

There was no response.

Soon, Zheng Qin noticed that his opponent’s profile picture had dimmed—they were offline. Checking his friend list, “Just Learning, Don’t Know How to Play” was nowhere to be found. It seemed his friend's request had been ignored.

“Who… could they be?”

Zheng Qin stared at the concluded game on his screen, his mind clouded with confusion.

In another room, a boy of around sixteen or seventeen, looking like a high school student, was reviewing the game on his computer.

“The opponent played really well. Even I felt the pressure—something I haven’t experienced in a long time.”

His eyes shone with admiration as he reviewed the match.

“In this game, I only managed to win because of my calculative depth and overall perspective, securing victory through midgame combat.”

“But if I were facing someone closer to my skill level—someone like Fang Xin in the midgame—I wouldn’t be so confident about winning!”

“After over a century of evolution, Go has produced so many new joseki and innovative strategies. Even komi has become a standard rule. There’s still so much for me to learn…”

“In today’s Go world, I think I can really enjoy myself!”

Just then, a middle-aged woman’s impatient voice rang out from the living room.

“Su Yiming, it’s late! Are you still on the computer? Don’t you have school tomorrow? Go take a shower and get to bed!”

Su Yiming immediately closed his computer and replied, “Coming!”