As Jiang Changdong placed his stone, Yu Shao immediately followed with one of his own.

Jiang Changdong took a deep breath, glanced at the board, and swiftly picked up another stone.

Click!

Click!

Click!

The sound of stones hitting the board grew faster and more intense—like the booming of artillery fire!

Yu Shao stared intently at the board, quickly picked up a stone, and slammed it down!

Pa!

Fifth column, eleventh row—poke!

“He used a poke for this move?”

Everyone’s heart skipped a beat when they saw it.

“What a brilliant move!”

“Black needs three liberties to escape, but after those previous exchanges, this poke was the perfect touch—it extended one more liberty, and White has no counter!”

“White can’t afford to lose the integrity of its Go strings, so even though it gives White a liberty, Black must address the shape!”

“This gives Black a brief moment to breathe!”

“Now it’s just two liberties left!”

Jiang Changdong's face darkened, sweat beading across his forehead—more than even when he was previously at a disadvantage.

Black’s resilience had gone beyond his expectations. Now it was his turn to attack, but he found it more difficult than ever.

“It’s fine. Just two liberties left!”

The sound of him grabbing a stone echoed as Jiang Changdong's eyes turned sharp and he placed his next move decisively.

Click!

The stone landed!

Yu Shao only glanced at the board before immediately placing his next move.

Click click click...

The rhythm of play picked up again.

Both players reached into the Go bowl repeatedly—grabbing, placing, and pressing the clock in rapid cycles.

As more and more stones filled the board, sweat from Jiang Changdong’s forehead started trailing down his cheeks. His face showed disbelief.

Just then, Yu Shao placed another stone—calmly but quickly.

The moment Jiang Changdong saw it, his pupils contracted sharply. The disbelief on his face peaked.

“He used a ko fight to gain one more liberty!”

“Only... one more left!”

Even with the advantage still in his hands, Jiang Changdong gritted his teeth and fixed his gaze on the board.

After a long pause, a flicker of defiance lit up in his eyes as he dropped another stone.

Across from him, Yu Shao was so focused on the board he’d completely tuned out everything else. Countless variations flashed through his mind.

“Just a little more!”

Moments later, Yu Shao reached into the Go bowl, pulled out a stone, and placed it!

Click!

The sound was crisp—soft, yet piercing.

“White jumped, and Black responded with a poke, but then—Black suddenly went for a Large Knight’s Move, stabilizing the entire board! That instantly increased the number of viable ko threats!”

Su Yiming’s eyes were glued to the board, entirely captivated.

“Black crossed over as expected, and now White initiates another ko... And in this formation—”

Click!

Click!

The stones kept falling.

Jiang Changdong, with White, dropped another stone.

“Will Black choose not to respond to this?”

Just as Su Yiming thought that, before the idea fully settled in his mind, he heard a snap. The sound of a stone being grabbed echoed through the Go room, followed immediately by Yu Shao making his move at lightning speed!

Click!

Sixteenth column, seventh row—attach!

Su Yiming hadn’t even finished forming his thought before Yu Shao gave the answer—

“Ignore all ko threats!”

This meant no matter what ko threat the opponent launched, you ignore it and resolve the ko outright. A move like that usually signaled that the local battle was sealed.

The Go room fell deathly silent.

An Hongshi, Zhuang Weisheng, the two referees, the male recorder, and Su Yiming all stared at the board in shock.

Even Su Yiming was dazed, unable to snap out of it.

“Three liberties!”

“Black has escaped!”

Not just them—everyone watching felt an overwhelming sense of disbelief.

Jiang Changdong’s jaw was clenched tight, sweat pouring from his forehead, soaking his hair and clothes. Even if he still held the advantage, once Black escaped, it was no longer a sure win.

The result... was now in doubt!

After a long silence, Jiang Changdong clenched his left fist and dropped another stone.

Yu Shao glanced at the board and immediately responded.

The rhythm of moves resumed again, click click, back and forth.

The spectators could only stare in stunned silence.

The female recorder was completely frozen.

“This game should’ve been over already…”

The male recorder swallowed dryly, trembling: “And yet he’s clawed his way back to this point…”

Even more unbelievable than that brilliant squeeze earlier!

“We’ve entered the endgame!”

“This will be decided in the endgame!”

At this moment, the whole world was watching—no one dared blink. Every Black and White stone burned itself into memory.

“Like a raging tide, he’s surged back!”

“Even in the endgame, the gap keeps narrowing!”

“Black’s endgame plays are flawless—aggressive, too! Meanwhile, White’s last few moves haven’t gained much.”

“No way... That kind of gap shouldn’t be recoverable. It was at resignable levels!”

“What’s the result?”

“...”

The Go room was silent, but everyone’s hearts were racing.

Jiang Changdong’s face looked terrible. Time was running out, and he had no time to wipe the sweat dripping down his face. He quickly played his move.

Yu Shao didn’t look any better. His time was also nearly up!

As the seconds ticked away and the board filled, the game drew closer to its end—and with it, a profound, suffocating silence.

Everyone stared, forgetting everything else, even holding their breath.

Finally—

With Jiang Changdong’s final stone, the endgame was complete. The match... was over!

Yet even so, the crowd continued staring at the board in a daze.

“It’s... it’s finished!”

The female recorder finally woke from her trance and looked at the board.

“What’s the point difference?”

Though the endgame was over, the margin was so small that even she, a professional, couldn’t tell who won without counting.

All eyes turned to the board. Everyone began counting.

“One point, two points, three points...”

As she counted, the female recorder inexplicably felt an immense pressure. Sweat crept from her forehead down her cheek.

After the first count, she swallowed hard and counted again.

Everyone else watching—even tens of thousands—did the same.

Only after counting three times did the female recorder finally confirm the result.

“Half a point!”

“The result was decided by half a point.”

She stared blankly at the board.

“Black lost... by just half a point.”

“Just half a point!”

Ding Huan stared at the computer screen, still reeling from the shock. “A game that should’ve been decided long ago... and yet, by the end, it was clawed back to just half a point!”

Yes.

Even though Black ultimately lost by half a point, the impact of this match surpassed a hundred or even a thousand victories.

After that disastrous squeeze move in the midgame, Black had been in a nearly hopeless situation. Under those circumstances, resigning wouldn't have been unreasonable.

But under the eyes of the world, Black fought back—stone by stone—until he nearly overturned the board!

“White won.”

“But did Black really lose?”

“There’s no clear answer.”

Ding Huan kept staring at the screen, still unable to recover from the match.

“To turn the impossible into possible... to drag a battered and broken position into a desperate fight against White—it may have ended in a loss, but for Black, that was a victory too!”

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

Tokyo, Japan.

“White won.”

A young professional Go player stared blankly at the screen, the cigarette between his fingers burned to the end without him noticing.

“But it was only by half a point,” he muttered.

Around him, other young professionals sat frozen, eyes locked on the screen.

“It’s like a miracle,” said a white-haired youth in a daze. “That whole second half... it was like God was playing.”

“I used to scoff at the phrase ‘a glorious defeat.’ What good is that? If you lose, you lose. Go is about winning.”

“But—”

He paused, eyes still fixed on the screen, expression lost in awe. “This game... was breathtaking.”

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

Back in the Go room.

Yu Shao looked at the board in front of him. He had already finished counting. He bit his lip.

“I lost…”

He still lost this game.

Though he had fought tooth and nail to narrow the gap, his misjudgment in the midgame—playing that ill-fated squeeze—had created too great a disadvantage. He couldn’t catch up.

It wasn’t his first loss. But no matter how many times you lose, the feeling never gets easier.

After a moment of silence, Yu Shao exhaled slowly. He looked at Jiang Changdong and gave a slight bow.

“I lost.”

The Go room remained dead quiet.

Jiang Changdong stared at the board without expression. Though he had won, there was no joy on his face. He simply returned Yu Shao’s bow.

Yu Shao bowed again, then reached out to clean up the board.

“Yu Shao, 3-dan.”

Just as his fingers touched a stone, Jiang Changdong spoke.

Yu Shao paused, then looked up at him.

“Many players avoid fighting you because of how you calculate through complicated fights and win with a single sequence. But after today’s match, you understand now, don’t you?”

Jiang Changdong locked eyes with him. Sweat still clung to his face. His gaze was sharp.

“I’m not like the others.”

Everyone in the Go room turned to look at Jiang Changdong.

“They say Go is like swordsmanship—without a killer’s heart, you can’t win.”

Jiang Changdong continued, “But I only believe one thing: the toughest breaks first.”

“No matter how hard you chased in this game, you couldn’t close the gap. It meant nothing!”

“I…”

“I am above you.”

His words echoed through the Go room.

The referee sitting on the far left was stunned. His eyes widened as he stared at Jiang Changdong.

“Teacher Jiang… how could he say something so arrogant and disrespectful after winning?”

“Especially when Yu Shao fought like that!”

Then, the referee finally noticed Jiang Changdong’s drenched hair, the sweat-soaked clothes.

He had been so absorbed in the game, he hadn’t realized until now.

At that moment, he put himself in Jiang Changdong’s shoes—and suddenly understood.

“Yu Shao... pushed him to the point of losing all composure.”

“Teacher Jiang…”

Yu Shao froze, his hand still resting on a stone.

Jiang Changdong took a deep breath, wiped his face, and silently started cleaning up the board. He quickly gathered all the stones, packed them away.

Then he stood up and left the Go room without saying another word.

After he left, Yu Shao sat quietly for a few seconds before finally resuming his cleanup. He put all the stones back in the bowl, then stood and turned to leave.

The match still weighed heavily on his heart. He felt suffocated.

He soon arrived at an empty review room, paused, and pushed the door open.

Inside, Yu Shao sat down at the board and silently began replaying the game, one move at a time.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The sound of stones hitting the board echoed once again.

“Yu Shao!”

Just a few moves in, a familiar voice called out from the door.

Yu Shao’s hand froze mid-move. He turned toward the door.

Standing there was Su Yiming, staring directly at him.

Su Yiming took a deep breath, stepped fully into the room, and sat across from Yu Shao.

After a long pause, he finally asked:

“Do you know where you lost that game?”