Cheng Liao was momentarily stunned but remained calm. Compared to the Go masters of the day, she was just a small adornment in the grand scheme.
Her rise to internet fame was taking another step forward. She wondered if her dad would be so thrilled by the news that he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Sheng Jingchu usually stayed silent on such topics. When pressed, he’d typically respond with, "Let’s focus on Go-related questions."
But this time, he took the microphone and said, "We’re friends."
The answer was neutral, giving seasoned journalists plenty of room for interpretation. It acknowledged their acquaintance without ruling out the possibility of something more.
Linda tried to ask a follow-up question, but the organizers stepped in. "Time is limited. Let’s keep the questions focused on the tournament."
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the door. "Master Jie is here."
Jie Hanzhou hadn’t been expected at the press conference due to health reasons. He had even planned to send a representative for the drawing of lots, but he showed up in person after all.
It was Cheng Liao’s first time seeing Jie Hanzhou in person. His hair was mostly white, but he appeared to be in good spirits, his back straight as a rod.
Cheng Liao realized that no matter how casually Sheng Jingchu stood or sat, he always maintained a certain posture. This must be the result of his teacher’s influence. Then she thought of Cao Xihe and wondered why the teacher’s lessons hadn’t fully reached his second disciple.
The younger players all stood up, even Jiang Chunlai, who went over to greet his old friend, taking Jie Hanzhou’s hand.
"It’s been four years since we played a game, hasn’t it? I’ve been eagerly waiting for this tournament."
Jie Hanzhou patted his hand. "I’ll be free from now on. We can play whenever you want."
The media had already caught wind of Jie Hanzhou’s plans to retire from the Go world, making the Chess Sage Tournament his final competition.
After the press conference, it was time for the drawing of lots. Sheng Jingchu was paired against Cao Xihe, while Jie Hanzhou would face Jiang Chunlai.
The skill level between the opponents was evenly matched.
The next day was the first match between Sheng Jingchu and Cao Xihe.
The tournament was a best-of-three format, with one match followed by a day of rest. The final showdown was scheduled for two weeks later.
Cao Xihe seemed to feel no pressure at all. After the draw, a reporter asked him, "What’s it like to play against your senior brother?"
Cao Xihe shrugged. "What’s there to feel? Like my left hand playing against my right? We used to play all day in the practice room, and since the stakes were just for a soda, I’m always happy to play against him."
The reporter pressed further. "Do you usually win?"
Cao Xihe scratched his head. "My senior brother wins more often, but he doesn’t drink soda, so when he wins, he just gives it to me."
While Cao Xihe remained relaxed, Sheng Jingchu took the match more seriously. After the draw, he returned to his room, hanging the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door.
Meanwhile, Cao Xihe rounded up a group of his junior brothers and refused to let them go. "Come on, let’s play some mahjong." He then turned to Cheng Liao, "Don’t forget to follow me. I want to show off my skills from every angle."
Several of Cao Xihe's junior disciples had snuck away, so in the end, he dragged in two of Jiang Chunlai's students instead.
"Our own guys are disloyal, but you two won't be, right?"
But they were still one player short. Cao Xihe fixed his gaze on Cheng Liao. "You play."
Cheng Liao didn’t know how to play mahjong; at most, she’d dabbled in online card games like 'Fight the Landlord' and had managed to rack up a debt of over seven thousand points in the process. Whenever she encountered a blue diamond player, she’d get kicked out of the game.
Having no other choice, Cheng Liao was pushed into the game. The moment she started playing, she knew she was doomed. People who play Go have exceptional calculation abilities; after just a few cards are played, they can perfectly calculate what’s left in everyone’s hand. Cheng Liao, on the other hand, played chaotically.
Cao Xihe chatted away as he organized his tiles.
"The last time I played mahjong with Cho Jung Ho, it was hilarious. He said each round would be worth a thousand, and I thought, 'Everyone in the Korean Go community calls him a miser, but here he is, being generous!' After a whole night of playing, he lost thirty thousand to me, and I was thrilled. I’d just set my eyes on a Qing Dynasty folding fan and was a bit short on cash. Then, when he paid up, what do you know—"
He tossed out a two-bamboo tile and continued, "It was in Korean won! Thirty thousand won, not even enough for a barbecue dinner. If I’d known he was so stingy, I wouldn’t have wasted my time with him. Then, when we bumped into each other again in Seoul, he dragged me out for soju. I figured, 'For international relations, I’d better go.' He took me to eat Korean beef, and you know how expensive Hanwoo is. I thought, 'He must need a favor.' I went to the bathroom, and when I came back—bam—he was gone!"
Cheng Liao couldn’t help but laugh. She had assumed all Go players were as refined as Sheng Jingchu. Who would’ve thought there’d be such a variety of personalities, from the carefree Cao Xihe to the miserly Cho Jung Ho.
One of Jiang Chunlai’s students, Chu He, chimed in, "Cho Jung Ho’s been in a slump these past two years. I beat him twice in last year’s Dongyang Cup."
Another disciple, Guan Ce, sighed. "His performance has been bad ever since his wife passed away."
Even Cao Xihe went silent at that. After a long pause, he added, "Yeah, Cho was stingy with everyone, but he treated his wife well."
Cheng Liao had heard of Cho Jung Ho's story from Yan Xiao. His wife had been a fashion designer, and they had been together for seven years before getting married and having two children. The couple was known for their deep affection for each other in the Go community. Tragically, Cho’s wife died in a car accident, and after a month in the hospital, she couldn’t be saved.
Cao Xihe suddenly slapped his tiles down. "I won!"
After talking about Cho Jung Ho, Cao Xihe looked at Cheng Liao with a mischievous grin.
"You know, we Go players are all romantics at heart. Take my senior brother, for instance—he didn’t even realize his feelings for over twenty years, but when he did, he was pretty sharp." He nudged Cheng Liao. "Want me to sell you some exclusive gossip about him?"
Cheng Liao felt a little uncomfortable. Despite everyone speculating about her and Sheng Jingchu, only the two of them knew the real situation. And ever since their return, she’d sensed Sheng Jingchu keeping a deliberate distance from her.
Reflecting on his recent statement that they were "just friends," Cheng Liao realized he might have been gently reminding her of the boundaries they should maintain.
Glancing at the clock, she suddenly cried out, "It’s so late! You’ve got a match tomorrow!"
There was no way she could let them keep playing. Gathering her DV camera, she quickly returned to her room.
As expected, Xiao Qi called with his usual detailed instructions.
"Has Mr. Sheng gone to bed yet? Did you prepare his clothes for tomorrow? They need to be hung up—remember, they’re custom-made in Italy, expensive stuff. What about Tao Te Ching? Make sure it’s in a spot where he can see it easily."
Cheng Liao wondered if it was good to pamper her employer so much. She doubted Sheng Jingchu was the type to demand so much—he seemed to accept things if they were given, but wouldn’t ask for them otherwise.
Feeling slightly guilty for not being more attentive as his temporary assistant, Cheng Liao went over to knock on Sheng Jingchu’s door.
He answered in his pajamas, holding a book in his hand.
For some reason, Cheng Liao suddenly felt awkward and peeked into the room. "I came to adjust your air conditioning."
He let her in without asking any questions and immediately poured her a glass of milk.
Cheng Liao glanced at the temperature of the air conditioning—it was perfect. Just leaving now felt a bit inadequate in showing her concern for him, but what else could she say? Tomorrow was a big match, and no words seemed enough to help him relax.
She cradled the glass, eyeing the book in his hands.
"You’re reading Song Lyrics?"
He nodded. "It helps me relax before a match."
That made sense. She tried to keep the conversation going with a story from her childhood.
"When I was eleven or twelve, my dad bought me a book titled Tang Poetry, Song Lyrics, and Yuan Drama. Yes, it wasn’t three separate books—it was one book with a ridiculously tiny font, and it was about… this thick." She made a gesture to show its size. "I loved The Phoenix Hairpin from it and memorized it to show off everywhere. I was so proud of myself, until I realized I’d memorized a bunch of the characters wrong. Want to know why?"
Sheng Jingchu looked up at her. "Why?"
Cheng Liao burst into laughter, gripping the arm of the sofa and giving it a playful slap. "Because the book was pirated!"
"Oh, I’ve got a riddle for you."
Realizing her actions weren’t very ladylike, she withdrew her hand, glancing at Sheng Jingchu, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
"Tang Wan remarried. Guess the household item."
Sheng Jingchu played along, pretending he hadn’t noticed her earlier antics. "If I guess right, will you make me Song Sao’s Fish Soup?"
It was an easy wager, and Cheng Liao quickly agreed.
His fingers traced through the pages of the book before he stopped and handed it to her.
It was Lu You’s The Phoenix Hairpin.
Tang Wan had been Lu You’s ex-wife, forced to leave him because his mother disapproved.
Pausing briefly, he said, "Router."
The answer was a play on words—“Lu You is angry” (Lu You qi) sounded like “router.” She should’ve known he wouldn’t miss it.
"Sigh, next time, pretend to think a bit longer. Let me feel like I’m smarter for once." Cheng Liao stood up, muttering as she opened the door, before turning back to flash him a bright smile.
Sheng Jingchu thought that if Cheng Liao had a color, it would be yellow—bright and warm, like the sunlight that falls on the pages of a book as you casually flip through it on a lazy afternoon.
"Goodnight," she said.
As usual, Cheng Liao woke up early, took care of Sheng Jingchu’s breakfast, and then went to knock on Cao Xihe’s door. She knocked for almost half an hour before he finally opened it, sporting two dark circles under his eyes and reeking of alcohol.
"What time is it already, and you're just calling me now?"
He glanced at his wristwatch and yelled, "I'm late, I'm late!"
With a bang, he slammed the door shut, and a muffled voice came from inside, "Wait a minute, I'm changing."
Cheng Liao had originally thought he was someone who remained calm and composed, but today she realized he was more carefree—how could someone oversleep on the day of a match?
When he emerged, he had already changed into a suit, both hands trying to flatten his unruly hair, muttering, "This curly hair is driving me crazy."
By the time they arrived at the venue, the media were already waiting.
There’s an unwritten rule in Go tournaments that the more self-assured players tend to arrive late, perhaps like celebrities making a grand entrance on the red carpet. Even if Korean player Cho Yeon-hun arrived early, he would wait in the lounge.
Sheng Jingchu had already arrived, wearing the Rubinacci suit that Xiao Qi had repeatedly emphasized. The suit's tailored waistline accentuated his lean frame, and paired with the white shirt underneath, it made him look tall and dignified.
When he saw Cao Xihe, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, but after drawing lots, the match began.
The reporters were kept outside and could only watch the proceedings through the screens in the lounge.
Not long after the game started, Cao Xihe conceded defeat.
Cheng Liao was stunned. She had prepared herself for a long wait, knowing that a single game could last three hours according to the rules, with each move sometimes taking ages as players pondered deeply. But before she could even get a grasp of what was happening, it was over?
Could it be that Cao Xihe was in poor form because he stayed up too late last night?
As soon as the doors opened, reporters rushed in. Cheng Liao stood at the entrance, watching as Linda congratulated Sheng Jingchu.
"Starting off with such an easy win, it seems like victory in this tournament is within reach."
Sheng Jingchu remained expressionless, giving Cao Xihe a deep look before leaving the venue.
Cheng Liao went over to console Cao Xihe, "It's okay, it's a best-of-three match. There's still hope."
Cao Xihe rubbed his chin, grinning at everyone. "I conceded early so we could all have lunch sooner."
The next day was the match between Jiang Chunlai and Xie Hanzhou. Jiang Chunlai’s disciples were all present, and Xie Hanzhou’s disciples also came to watch. Sheng Jingchu arrived a bit later, with Ding Lan saving him a seat, calling out from afar, "Senior brother, sit here!"
But Sheng Jingchu didn’t go over, choosing instead a seat further back, where he quietly watched the game on the big screen. This game took much longer.
Cheng Liao couldn’t understand the moves and watched in a daze. Initially, she had a seat near the front, but when some officials arrived, she gave up her spot and moved to the back, ending up closer to Sheng Jingchu.
Sheng Jingchu asked her, "What do you see?"
Cheng Liao smacked her lips. "The white pieces look just like ice cream."
Her unique perspective made Sheng Jingchu chuckle softly. He pointed to the screen, "The teacher is going to win."
Jiang Chunlai was playing white, and Xie Hanzhou was playing black. To Cheng Liao, it seemed like the white pieces were dominating, and she couldn’t see how the black pieces had any chance of winning.
"Master Jiang has an unpredictable style, often pulling off surprising moves; our teacher’s style is steady and methodical, advancing step by step. Look at move 167."
He thought she probably wouldn’t understand the professional terminology like "approach move," so he made a straightforward prediction, "Within three moves, White's defeat will become apparent."
Cheng Liao nodded, half understanding, and from the front, Cao Xihe suddenly exclaimed, "Teacher has won!"
Sure enough, after two more moves, Jiang Chunlai timed out and conceded defeat.
Although it was just one victory, it was an auspicious sign. Cao Xihe wanted to celebrate with his fellow disciples over a meal, much to the chagrin of Jiang Chunlai’s students.
Xie Hanzhou's youngest disciple was only thirteen, with big, bright eyes that looked like a character from an anime. He came over and invited Sheng Jingchu, "Senior brother, second brother wants to treat you to dinner."
Sheng Jingchu called Cao Xihe over, his expression stern. "Come with me."
The others exchanged puzzled looks, and the youngest disciple stuck out his tongue, wanting to follow but not daring to. His eyes darted around until they landed on Cheng Liao, lighting up.
"Sister-in-law, sister-in-law, you should go check it out!"
Sister-in-law, my foot!
Cheng Liao’s curiosity got the better of her, and she quietly followed them.
Sheng Jingchu stopped in the corridor, while Cao Xihe, hands in his pockets and head down, looked like a scolded child.
"Why did you concede this morning?"
"Why else would I lose?" Cao Xihe looked aggrieved. "I’m not good enough, of course. Senior brother, you’re just being mean. I already feel bad about losing, and now you’re rubbing salt in my wounds."
Sheng Jingchu let out a cold laugh, his gaze as frosty as ice. "Is that so?"
It was the first time Cheng Liao had seen him angry. In her impression, Sheng Jingchu, though outwardly cold, had always been mild-tempered. Even at the police station when faced with harsh questioning, he remained composed, his tone steady.
Cao Xihe’s sense of grievance faded, and he fell silent.
"Little Cao," Sheng Jingchu sighed slightly, "You once asked me what Go is. At the time, I didn’t fully understand it myself, so I never answered you.
"Is Go about winning and losing? Yes, and no. Within the confines of the board, we fight over every point, always measuring by victory or defeat. I started learning Go at six; you joined a year later. If you count it up, it’s been over a decade—not too long, not too short. You’ve learned everything you need to, and you’re skilled at all the techniques. But there’s still one thing you don’t understand…"
He looked at Cao Xihe, disappointment evident in his eyes. "The spirit of Go is about respecting your opponent. Between the two of us, the winner will eventually face the teacher. If you want to lose, fine, but I might not give you the chance to win."
His voice grew firmer. "Look at me!"
Cao Xihe slowly raised his head.
"But I need you to give it your all!"
){kind=link}
0 Comments