January 7th, the press conference for the "Ji Shi Cup" Go tournament.
Out of the amateur selection tournament, two players were chosen, adding to the professional players from China, Japan, and Korea, making a total of twenty-four participants.
With Cao Xihe’s sudden withdrawal, another player was selected by the Go Academy.
Cheng Liao helped Sheng Jingchu prepare his clothes, and she even had a bit of a disagreement with Xiao Qi over which outfit he should wear.
Eventually, she gave in, feeling a bit disinterested. "You choose then, I’ll leave it all to you."
She then looked disdainfully at the clothes in the wardrobe. "It’s the same few colors anyway. How much variety can there be?"
Sitting on the sofa, she sulked. "Panda, I lost my job."
According to company policy, taking three days off without a valid reason is considered an automatic resignation.
Sheng Jingchu gently rubbed her head. "It’s okay, I’ll take care of you."
After thinking for a moment, he added, "I can eat a bit less from now on."
Naturally, the focus of the press conference was on Sheng Jingchu, who had been missing for a week.
The media’s questions were unusually sharp, making Xiao Qi break out in a cold sweat. He leaned in and whispered to Cheng Liao, "Do you think Mr. Sheng might just lose his temper and walk out?"
Cheng Liao, looking excited, replied, "Really? That’d be great, let’s see him do it!" clearly eager for the drama.
Xiao Qi clutched his chest in frustration. "What on earth does Mr. Sheng see in you?"
Sheng Jingchu’s responses were brief.
Most of his answers were just four words: "No comment."
One reporter asked the final question: "I’m a reporter from Jiangcheng Online. I’ve just received word from my colleagues that several of your junior disciples have issued a joint statement declaring they want to sever ties with you. What’s your take on this?"
Sheng Jingchu’s absence from Master Xie’s funeral had sparked strong reactions among his junior disciples. Some had harshly criticized him on Weibo, and a few had sent him intensely worded messages. But no one had expected it to escalate to the point of cutting ties.
Sheng Jingchu was silent for a moment before he calmly replied with two words: "I don’t care."
Cheng Liao felt a mix of anger and sadness. Did grief have to be displayed on one’s face? If you don’t cry, does that mean you’re not hurting? If you don’t withdraw from the tournament, does that make you cold and heartless? Such shallow expressions of mourning—would everyone just kneel and compete to see who could cry the loudest?
However, people only believe what they see. No one truly cares about the truth behind the scenes.
Everyone loves to stand on the moral high ground and criticize others; it gives them a sense of superiority, as if proclaiming, "I’m a good person."
After the press conference, Cheng Liao carefully stayed by Sheng Jingchu’s side.
She wanted to comfort him but was afraid of bringing up painful memories.
Yet, if he didn’t have an outlet for his emotions, it would be bad to keep everything bottled up inside.
"I really don’t care."
Sheng Jingchu had never been someone who lived for the approval of others. He liked what he liked and disliked what he disliked. This kind of personality never won him much favor, which was why he wasn’t well-liked among his junior disciples.
But in the end, "popularity" is an intangible concept. All relationships are ultimately built on a foundation of mutual strength.
"It’s only when you care that you experience hurt, betrayal, and pain. I don’t care, so I don’t feel anything."
"I’m even more worried now," Cheng Liao said, stopping to look into Sheng Jingchu’s eyes. "Panda, it’s not that you don’t care and therefore don’t get hurt; it’s that you’re afraid of getting hurt, so you pretend not to care. You can’t avoid owning something just because you’re afraid of losing it."
He was silent for a moment. "You’re right." Then, with a self-deprecating smile, he added, "It seems I have a lot of issues as a person."
She smiled, her eyes curving sweetly. "But it’s exactly because of that that I like you."
She reached out and pinched his cheek. "I don’t think I’ve ever told you this: I like you, I really, really like you!"
She thought about how he was such a contradictory person, always keeping a critical distance from people and things, refusing to get involved, observing everything with a cold, detached perspective.
But beneath that exterior was a soft heart. His heart was always tightly shut, but once he opened it to someone, it was hard to close again.
The fact that he let her into his heart made her feel incredibly lucky.
The "Ji Shi Cup" tournament was fiercely competitive.
It was as if, after Japan’s loss, everyone had ascended to a higher level.
It was only on the day of the tournament that Cheng Liao realized that the particularly handsome Go player she had seen on TV was the heir to the Ji family. It was because of his personal passion for Go that this tournament was held.
But the advertising effect was also powerful—one of the Ji family’s sports drinks quickly gained traction in Japan and Korea.
After learning this, Cheng Liao began to entertain some conspiracies.
"Do you think Mr. Ji might end up winning the tournament?"
Out of the twenty-four contestants, Mr. Ji had one spot. If he ended up winning the championship, wouldn’t that mean both the advertising and the prize money stayed in the family?
"Do you not believe in the strength of Zhao Yanxun, Kato Kiyomasa, or me?" Sheng Jingchu looked at her.
"That’s true," Cheng Liao said, feeling a bit deflated. "Actually, it wouldn’t be so bad if Mr. Ji won."
Her words sounded a bit awkward.
Sheng Jingchu asked, "Because he’s good-looking?"
"Yes, exactly."
Sheng Jingchu was puzzled. "Didn’t you say last time that I’m better-looking than he is?"
"That's because I didn’t know at the time that he was richer than you," Cheng Liao replied.
Sheng Jingchu stood up from his seat. "Let’s go."
Cheng Liao checked the time. "There’s still half an hour before the match starts."
"No need to compete. I’m going to go home and start a company to make money."
Cheng Liao quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him back to his seat. "I was just teasing you!"
Sheng Jingchu laughed. "I was teasing you too."
His attempt at using the Beijing accent didn’t quite land, but he was satisfied nonetheless. He asked Cheng Liao, "So between Mr. Ji and me, you still chose me in the end?"
Cheng Liao nodded. "Of course."
She hooked her arm around his. "Didn’t you know? He’s already married!"
As it turned out, Sheng Jingchu was paired against Mr. Ji.
But in the 24-to-12 elimination round, the outcome wasn’t much in doubt. Mr. Ji and the other amateur player were defeated, leaving five Chinese players, five Korean players, and two Japanese players advancing to the next round.
Despite his loss, Mr. Ji was very gracious. After the match, he warmly shook Sheng Jingchu’s hand. "It was an honor to play against you. I’m a fan of yours. Actually, during the Tianyuan Go Tournament, my family also placed some ads, and I even attended in person. My childhood dream was to become a professional Go player, but unfortunately, as my father’s only son, he wouldn’t allow it. By the way, I once tried to arrange a match with you through some connections."
Sheng Jingchu received such requests regularly—politicians, scholars, even veteran artists all wanted to play a game with him. He never inquired about their identities and politely declined them all.
Sheng Jingchu made a rare joke. "Good thing I won the match; otherwise, my girlfriend might have broken up with me."
Next came the 12-to-6 round, and fortunately, the matches were held in Jiangcheng, where Sheng Jingchu felt more at ease, without the usual issues of adjusting to a new place. His condition was excellent.
Xiao Qi, who had been on edge the entire time, finally began to relax.
However, Xiao Qi was still troubled by the relentless pursuit of the media. He eventually resorted to using Sheng Jingchu’s car to pull off a clever diversion.
After the 12-to-6 round, only six players remained: Zhao Yanxun, Cao Xianluo, Kim Gu, Jiang Chunlai, Sheng Jingchu, and Kato Kiyomasa.
From a numbers perspective, the Korean team had a slight edge.
But the draw results were intriguing: Zhao Yanxun was pitted against his own teacher, Cao Xianluo; Kim Gu was matched against Sheng Jingchu, their first encounter despite participating in many of the same tournaments; and Jiang Chunlai was up against Kato Kiyomasa, another first-time match-up. Jiang Chunlai was a veteran, and by the time Kato Kiyomasa began competing internationally, Jiang Chunlai had mostly withdrawn from overseas competitions.
These pairings made each match particularly interesting to watch.
After the draw, Zhao Yanxun approached Sheng Jingchu. "May I invite you for a drink?"
In Korea, there’s a unique drinking culture where seniors and juniors, as well as colleagues, bond over drinks to strengthen their relationships.
Cheng Liao was immediately on guard. "We don’t drink!"
Zhao Yanxun chuckled. "I don’t mean anything by it. Besides, someone like him won’t get drunk unless he wants to."
Zhao Yanxun glanced around and spotted Yao Ke, calling out to him, "Brother!"
Yao Ke’s expression was a bit sour, and he reluctantly greeted Zhao Yanxun.
Zhao Yanxun cheerfully asked him, "Where are my other two brothers? Oh right, Cao Xihe went to Hangzhou. Where’s Ye Chen?"
Ye Chen, who lived in Beijing, had been in mediocre form during the tournament and left after being eliminated.
Sheng Jingchu didn’t refuse Zhao Yanxun’s invitation.
There was a bar nearby. Although Zhao Yanxun spoke Chinese, he still brought a translator with him. However, he sent the translator away, explaining to Sheng Jingchu and Cheng Liao, "If I pretend not to understand, I can find out what people are saying about me behind my back." His Chinese wasn’t very fluent, but the grammar was correct.
They sat down at the bar, and although Zhao Yanxun had invited them for drinks, he only ordered one bottle of red wine.
Cheng Liao asked him, "Do you want some kimchi?"
She had seen in Korean dramas that whenever people drank, they always ate kimchi, as if it were the most delicious food in the world, and they couldn’t survive without it.
Zhao Yanxun nodded seriously. "Excellent, red wine with kimchi, perfect!"
Cheng Liao realized he was being sarcastic and fell silent.
Zhao Yanxun poured Sheng Jingchu a glass of wine.
"I heard about your teacher’s passing. I respect you greatly."
Pausing to think about how to express himself in Chinese, he added, "It’s difficult, I know."
This was the first time anyone had offered Sheng Jingchu any words of comfort.
Everyone else he encountered at the tournament either avoided the subject of Master Xie’s death altogether or spoke in veiled barbs, as if Sheng Jingchu’s refusal to withdraw from the tournament made him the most unfilial of all.
Cheng Liao felt a wave of mixed emotions. She didn’t like the Korean team, and she particularly disliked Zhao Yanxun. But hearing these kind words from someone she disliked left her unsure of how to react.
Fortunately, Zhao Yanxun wasn’t addressing her, and Sheng Jingchu was accustomed to keeping a neutral expression.
He simply clinked his glass with Zhao Yanxun’s and said, "Thank you."
"After this tournament, my teacher will be retiring from the Go world as well," Zhao Yanxun said. "I think you can understand how I feel."
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