Tap!

Tap!

Tap!

The crisp sound of stones hitting the board echoed repeatedly. Everyone held their breath, eyes locked on the game, their expressions shifting with each new development.

As time passed, those expressions began to subtly change.

“No... no, that’s not right! What’s going on?!”

Someone stared at the board, cold sweat dripping down their face, utterly confused.

After Li You played that wedge, the game had exploded into fierce complexity, and White’s path to life had seemed to emerge. But somehow, the momentum that White worked so hard to reclaim… began slipping away again!

That wedge—brilliant enough to shake the balance—was met by Yu Shao with a string of moves that struck White’s every vital point!

Then came another move from Yu Shao.

Seven columns, thirteen rows—jump.

“He jumped—he’s sacrificing a group!”

The room collectively tensed. They could feel the razor edge in that move.

“He didn’t choose the block-connect—he jumped into the center!”

“Black’s sacrificing a group. He’s launching an all-out assault, trying to break into White’s core and shatter the backbone of his isolated stones!”

“This is a merciless move. If he wanted to play it safe, he could’ve blocked and connected. Even a tiger’s mouth would’ve been safer. But instead, he chose the sharpest clamp!”

“But… will this really work? Even if White’s in trouble now, after sacrificing, Black will be open to counterattack on the edge!”

Regardless of whether Black had calculated it all, everyone knew—this was it. No one could back down now. This was the final clash.

Yu Shao left himself no retreat. By sacrificing here, he was burning the bridge behind him. All or nothing.

This strike… would draw blood.

Either his opponent’s—or his own.

This was a life-and-death battle.

Li You stared at the stone now resting on the board. Beads of sweat drenched his forehead, his back soaked through.

That wedge had been the result of everything he had—his mind, his spirit, his will. And it had turned the game around… but now, he was being pressed again—relentlessly!

After a long pause, Li You gritted his teeth and played his next move.

Snap!

One column, ten rows—wedge.

Black had sacrificed to attack the center. If White chose to get entangled in defense, he risked falling behind—being led by the nose.

So instead, White struck back.

White's counterattack on the lower edge was risky—if he could break Black’s territory, then even if his center group died, the exchange might balance out.

The tension in the room reached a boiling point.

Everyone could see it now—before the sacrifice, the game could’ve still dragged on. But now, the endgame was looming.

This clash would decide everything.

Tap, tap, tap…

More stones dropped in rapid succession.

Though they were only Go stones, to the ears of the spectators, they sounded like the clashing of swords, the clash of armies.

“Black jumps in response to White’s wedge. White should cut—but instead, he clamps!”

Zhuang Weisheng stared unblinkingly at the board, his spirit shaken.

“Unexpected… but brilliant. Incredibly sharp.”

Li You, drenched in sweat, dropped his next move with visible defiance.

Around him, everyone’s expressions grew increasingly complicated.

They suddenly realized—if up to now, Black’s moves had been steady, measured, and fair... from the moment of the sacrifice, each move had become ruthless, each strike aimed straight at the throat.

White’s resistance was strong—but in the face of Black’s suffocating, airtight attacks, he began to retreat.

Ten more moves fell.

The room grew even quieter.

“Too brutal. Too ruthless.”

The female scorekeeper swallowed hard, cold sweat beading on her face.

“Ever since the sacrifice, Black hasn’t played a single soft move. Every stone strikes with killing intent. Every surrounding stone, every variation—used to its fullest!”

“Even with all that effort, I’m afraid… 8-dan Li You…”

She wasn’t alone. Everyone had begun to see it—the balance had shifted.

Where once the game was equal, now the gap widened with every move.

White… couldn’t hold on.

Everyone had assumed that the battle following the sacrifice would be long and drawn out.

But the truth stunned them all.

Black unleashed a series of impossibly sharp, hair-raising moves. Many weren’t understood until several moves later—only then did people realize their genius.

White’s counterattacks on the side were met with indifference—or more accurately, masterful dismantling.

Black maintained overwhelming pressure. Now he was breaking into White’s center, unstoppable.

“So strong…”

Someone stared blankly at the board.

“How can someone play like this?”

Even earlier in the game—during the opening and midgame—Black had the upper hand, but White still had room to maneuver. It looked like a long match ahead.

But after that wedge, Black flipped the switch.

White, who had briefly risen from the ashes, was crushed again, unable to breathe.

Was the wedge not good enough?

Absolutely not.

Everyone saw it—it had been a brilliant, equalizing move. At that moment, Black was even in danger.

Yet somehow, through the follow-up, Black not only neutralized the danger, he pushed White into a corner.

Five or six more moves passed.

Yu Shao placed another stone.

Tap!

The sound rang out.

Li You stared at it, hand reaching into the bowl—but he never drew a stone.

The room fell silent.

The scorekeeper pulled her gaze away from the board. She couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

The outcome was now plain as day—right there on the board.

“No way… 8-dan Li You… played this well and still lost…”

He had given it everything. Poured his heart and soul into the fight.

But even after all that, he was suppressed, crushed—defeated.

Black—won by a kill in the midgame.

Li You stared at the board.

Eventually, he lowered his head, saying nothing. He didn’t resign, but neither did he make another move. The clock kept ticking.

“It’s over.”

He had seen the end.

Continuing now would only be a meaningless waste of time.

Even if he’d fought with everything he had, the outcome was devastatingly clear.

No more strength. No more hope.

Yu Shao also stared at the board silently. Though the victory was secured, he showed no impatience. He understood.

He’d been there before—giving everything, only to lose.

This game had pushed him into a desperate fight. That wedge had nearly toppled him.

And yet, he had won.

But when a game reaches this level—this beauty—victory brings no joy.

Because the opponent had to be brilliant, for the game to be brilliant.

Every move, from either side, was radiant.

Both deserved to win.

But in Go, there is no draw. No mutual victory.

Even the rare jigo (draw) would be followed by a playoff.

He had won.

And earned the right to challenge for the title.

But it had come at the cost of Li You’s dream.

In the end, they were opponents—not enemies.

Time continued slipping away.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Twenty minutes passed.

Then—Li You’s time expired.

The room fell even quieter.

“8-dan Li You... lost on time.”

A referee looked over at Li You, who remained unmoving, his heart full of complex emotions.

Technically, how one uses their time is up to them. But letting it run out, especially after a lost cause, was considered disrespectful—even petulant.

“Maybe... he really couldn’t accept it.”

“But who could blame him?”

“8-dan Li You has reached the final rounds of the title tournament for years—always just short. And now… once again, his dream is shattered.”

“How many people could accept that?”

He looked at Yu Shao, heart tangled with emotions.

“And the one who shattered that dream… is a rookie—barely a year into his pro career.”

Finally, the referee took a breath, calmed himself, stood from his seat, and announced:

“White has lost on time. According to the rules, the winner is Black.”

Even as the words fell, Li You remained seated, head bowed, unmoving—whether he didn’t hear or simply couldn’t take it in was unclear.

Yu Shao also said nothing. Silently, he began gathering the stones, calmly clearing the board.

Only once all the stones were back in the bowls did he rise and walk to the door.

Just as he reached the exit, Zhuang Weisheng called out:

“Yu Shao, 3-dan.”

Yu Shao paused and looked back.

Zhuang Weisheng nodded.

“Congratulations. You’ve earned the right to challenge for the title. I’m looking forward to your performance. That Jiang Changdong guy’s no pushover.”

“Thank you.”

Yu Shao looked slightly caught off guard, but quickly nodded.

“I’ll give it my all.”

----------------------------------------

Elsewhere—

“What a brilliant game.”

Su Yiming pulled his gaze from the screen and exhaled deeply.

“So this is... Yu Shao’s strength.”

“That Li You was strong too. Even though he lost, that wedge alone… was enough to be proud of.”

“But more importantly…”

He looked at the screen again.

“From this game—I finally found Yu Shao’s weakness.”

Su Yiming inhaled slowly and stepped to his own Go board.

He began replaying the game, stone by stone—flawlessly, without a single mistake.

Soon, he had recreated the entire match.

He stared at it with a glowing gaze.

“If it were me… I would’ve won.”

His eyes sparkled.

“But… I still fall short.”

“What I lack is judgment. His ability to see the subtlest shifts in the most chaotic positions… his understanding of Go is still above mine. That’s why his sense of the whole board is so outstanding.”

He thought back—his mind flashing through all of Yu Shao’s games, from the latest back to the first time they met.

That game from the high school league—before either of them had turned pro.

Back then, Su Yiming didn’t think much of Yu Shao. He never thought he’d lose.

And yet, he did—beaten in a high school match by a nobody.

He remembered the disbelief. The bitter frustration.

He couldn’t believe such a person existed.

But he did.

Though Su Yiming worked tirelessly to close the gap, every rematch—the second, the third, the fourth—proved there was still distance between them.

That distance… was shrinking.

He trained daily, reviewing games endlessly. The calluses on his fingers only grew thicker.

“Li You lost because of his inferior board vision.”

Su Yiming reached into the bowl and placed a stone.

Tap!

“The answer I couldn’t find a hundred years ago… will be revealed in this century!”