Moments later, the previously empty chess room lit up with warm yellow lights. Three elongated shadows stretched faintly across the wooden floor.
The players took their seats at the table, while the onlooker Yu Bai fetched a cushion and plopped down casually beside them.
He gazed at Xie Wufang, who sat with eyes downcast ahead of him, quietly awaiting the start of the game.
The chess room was beautiful, just as Yu Bai had imagined when he first stepped into this grand mansion—and even more so.
Square and spacious, the room featured only a few perfectly placed accents. A clean wall bore an elegant scroll of calligraphy, graceful as a startled swan. Beside it stood a refined rosewood flower stand, its slender top holding a pot of Tobira pittosporum with sparse, elegant branches and leaves. Amid the room’s understated elegance, it burst with vibrant green, like a poetic snippet of full spring preserved beneath the eaves.
Yu Bai thought that the old man before him, whose excitement was plain to see, wasn’t just wealthy—he had impeccable taste.
It was a far cry from that open-air stone table in the corner of the park the other day.
It felt like stepping into a delicate ink-wash landscape painting.
Thus, even Yu Bai, who knew next to nothing about Go, watched with unusual focus.
A servant with light footsteps brought hot tea and snacks. Amid the curling wisps of steam, Yu Bai caught sight of the two players’ starkly different expressions.
Zhang Yunjiang’s excitement gradually faded, replaced by solemn concentration as he pondered each white stone he placed. In front of this junior new to Go, he insisted on letting the other go first.
Just as in the time loop, Xie Wufang took black and made the first move. His gaze remained as calm as that day, devoid of ripples, and his placement speed was notably quicker than average.
Yu Bai even felt it was a touch faster than before.
Perhaps because Xie Wufang had spent more time that afternoon—organizing until late—even studying Go theory before this real match.
And with greater seriousness.
Black and white Go stones crisscrossed on the small board. The black stones fell swiftly and coldly, rarely lingering long in those slender, articulate fingers. As the game progressed, the white stones, swept into the rhythm, grew increasingly frantic and hard-pressed.
Go stones tapped lightly against the board, the situation shifting like gathering storm clouds. Time slipped away unnoticed as the spectator Yu Bai watched intently for a good while.
Then, at some point, he quietly turned away.
And yawned soundlessly.
…
Sorry, he was getting sleepy.
Because he truly couldn’t follow it.
Xie Wufang had clearly mastered the advanced techniques he’d studied on his phone that afternoon. He’d surpassed what Yu Bai, a complete Go novice, could comprehend—and even Zhang Yunjiang occasionally wore a troubled frown.
On top of that, he’d eaten plenty of sweets at dinner. The sugar coursed through him, bringing on drowsiness.
Yu Bai rubbed his eyes, fighting off the sleepiness while fretting over tomorrow.
He suspected that when Xie Wufang taught him Go tomorrow, he might nod off too.
Go was just too profound a pursuit.
It seemed simple to start, but grew ever harder the deeper one delved.
He didn’t dare imagine Xie Wufang’s reaction if, while earnestly instructing him, he caught Yu Bai yawning—or staring blankly like in a dull math class.
…Would he think, “What an impolite human”?
Or tell him, “Don’t get distracted”?
Sigh.
Lost in increasingly worried thoughts, Yu Bai let out a silent sigh and glanced instinctively to his side—meeting Yan Jing’s equally distant, sleepy gaze.
The trio including Yan Jing had supposedly gone to tour the gardens, but Yuan Yuxing was a stinky Go player who loved the game despite his skill. He couldn’t stop thinking about this dreamlike match, so after a cursory wander with Butler Uncle Ah, they ended up at the chess room door.
The very young little boy wanted to watch but feared giving himself away, so he dragged along his two companions—who’d planned to watch TV—pretending they were all just there for the spectacle.
Now, the little boy knelt properly on his cushion, holding his breath in rapt attention. His eyes shone with astonishing intensity, and at brilliant moves, he wanted to speak but held back, clenching his little fists instead.
The little girl beside him started out bewildered. After the grandpa, who looked like a child himself, whispered the basic rules in her ear, she watched on with a semblance of understanding, her expression quiet and earnest.
The two adults next to the kids, however…
Yu Bai and Yan Jing suddenly locked eyes. Yan Jing jolted, instinctively widening his eyes. He glanced hastily at the board, then flashed Yu Bai a thumbs-up and whispered admiringly, “Brilliant!”
His tone was utterly sincere, his gaze utterly vacant.
“…”
He hadn’t been watching at all. Brilliant my foot.
Amused and exasperated, Yu Bai extended his hand in kind, silently flipping him off with refined elegance.
Only then did Yan Jing realize Yu Bai had been zoning out too. He relaxed with a breath, withdrew his fake thumbs-up, and smoothly countered with a matching middle finger.
Seeing this, Yu Bai said nothing and calmly doubled down with both hands.
Yan Jing, refusing to back down, matched him.
Double middle fingers versus double middle fingers, smirks against goofy grins.
While everyone else focused on playing or spectating, the two secretly mocked each other with hand signs like immature schoolboys. They made no sound, but their shadows danced and flickered on the pristine white wall.
At the two ends of the central board, the frowning old man was immersed in the game, far from the casual ease he shared with old friends. He had no attention for the surroundings, his hand hovering midair with a Go stone as he sank into thought.
His opponent was different.
Those gray-blue eyes drifted from the interlaced black-and-white board, catching the faintly flickering shadows on the wall.
Then, they settled firmly on that face, now brimming with mirth.
He was no longer watching the game, having turned slightly to focus on his companion. The warm glow lit his light brown hair, which suddenly seemed distant.
Clack.
In the hushed room, a white stone rang crisply against the intersections.
Zhang Yunjiang placed the Go stone he’d nearly warmed in his grip, having finally settled on this crucial move. It could turn the tide, if only for the moment.
But just as the old man wiped imaginary sweat and felt a spark of pride—gazing expectantly at his opponent—he saw the usually expressionless young man simultaneously withdraw his gaze from elsewhere.
He lowered his eyes, his slightly curly black hair fanning across his forehead, veiling the emotions in those heterochromatic pupils. Silently, he picked up a black Go stone from the chess jar nearby.
Only a few seconds passed. Under Zhang Yunjiang’s stunned stare, the pitch-black stone landed in a spot he hadn’t even considered.
It took him a moment to react, only to realize that the hard-won reversal had collapsed entirely in that instant.
And into an irredeemable defeat.
Before the old man could marvel, a stifled gasp came from the side.
“That works?!”
Yeah, that works?!
Zhang Yunjiang echoed inwardly, sighing in resignation. “Alas, I’ve lost.”
As he conceded aloud, he curiously glanced toward the voice.
…It was Yu Bai’s oddly behaved nephew.
The little boy, who’d been sitting somewhat properly on his cushion moments ago, now straightened up in excitement, his childish face alight with shock and awe.
Zhang Yunjiang hadn’t even noticed when the three had arrived. At the sight, he chuckled. “Little Hang, you know Go too?”
And knew it well.
At least, of everyone present, probably only he and Little Hang had grasped that move. The rest were lost in the fog.
Otherwise, they surely would have exclaimed too.
The old man’s question was innocent, but the once-excited little boy tensed instantly. He instinctively nudged Yu Bai with his elbow, blurting out for rescue, “U-Uncle Little Bai!”
“…”
Caught off guard, Yu Bai cleared his throat, hastily stowed his childish gesture, and turned around to bail out his nephew as if nothing had happened.
“Yeah, Little Hang plays Go,” he ad-libbed. “Watching him was what got me interested in the game.”
Old Man Yuan’s “uncle” habit was getting scarily natural.
He called Yuan Yuxing “uncle,” and Yuan Yuxing called him “uncle.”
Separate generations, mutual uncles all the same.
…Truly wondrous.
Yu Bai mused, turning back to the players at the board and chuckling despite himself. “Is the game over?”
“Yep.” Zhang Yunjiang let out a long sigh and shook his head candidly. “I’ve lost. It’s all over.”
With the game concluded, the old man—who’d faced Xie Wufang for the first time—couldn’t help comparing it inwardly to the match he’d witnessed that afternoon.
In that one, his opponent had mimicked his game against Old Yuan, lulling the overconfident latter into thinking victory was assured—unaware he’d already fallen into a trap.
A player’s style often mirrored their personality and habits: rigid or flexible, aggressive or defensive.
Yet, aside from that final otherworldly genius move, that game hadn’t truly been Xie Wufang’s. He’d merely replicated and then dismantled it.
“I’d always thought your style would be more roundabout and steady, the kind that emphasizes careful layout and positioning.”
Zhang Yunjiang recalled that heart-pounding game with a sigh. “I never imagined you’d turn out to be such a direct attacker, pressing forward relentlessly without giving your opponent a moment to breathe. I really couldn’t have seen it coming.”
But on second thought, it actually fit perfectly with the other man’s unusually frank personality.
With Yu Bai providing cover, the little boy Yu Hang—who knew a thing or two about Go—finally dared to share his thoughts openly.
“Your chess style is ferocious—aggressively overbearing—and you place your stones so quickly.” He let out a long breath, blurting out, “I was just watching from the sidelines, and I still broke out in a cold sweat.”
The white stones had been suppressed from start to finish. Any occasional struggles or counterattacks were swiftly snuffed out. On that small board, the pitch-black Go stones moved with complete freedom, exuding an arrogant sharpness and dominance that brooked no extras—as if determined to expel every incompatible piece.
And the skill of the player wielding them more than lived up to that domineering flair.
Zhang Yunjiang burst out laughing at the words. “For someone your age to grasp so much already—you’ve got real talent.”
The little boy realized he’d spoken out of turn and quickly clamped his mouth shut.
Fortunately, Zhang Yunjiang’s attention had already shifted elsewhere.
The old man stared at the now-defeated board, clearly still hungry for more. After hesitating for a moment, he couldn’t suppress the urge bubbling in his chest. A bit embarrassed, he turned to Xie Wufang. “How about a short break? I’m not sure if you’re tired…”
Thanks to that near-crushing, ferocious style, the game had wrapped up far sooner than anyone expected.
Yet he was riding high right now. Win or lose, he wanted to play a few more rounds—each one had been so thrilling and exhilarating.
Zhang Yunjiang directed the question at the young man seated across from him, but the young man’s gaze drifted toward the spectator at his side.
Yu Bai, who had been looking at Xie Wufang as well, voiced the words on the old man’s behalf. “This game ended awfully fast. Do you want to play another?”
Xie Wufang replied in an even tone. “I’ve already confirmed exactly how many rules I’ve mastered.”
The old man, his face alight with anticipation, froze for a second. He recalled what the young man had said earlier when he’d first suggested a game and immediately understood—this was a polite refusal.
He’d framed it as practice against him.
So… the practice was over?
…What terrifying talent. What insane learning speed.
Deep regret washed over Zhang Yunjiang, but he didn’t want to press the issue. He was just about to suggest wrapping things up for the night—to spare the young man any awkwardness—when a phone ringtone suddenly cut through the air.
Yu Bai swallowed the words he’d been about to say and fished the chiming device from his pocket. He glanced at the screen and stood up at once. “Sorry, I need to take this outside. You all go ahead without me.”
“Who is it?” Yan Jing leaned over curiously from nearby, then clicked his tongue. “Why’s Tian Ge always calling with video?”
“Probably just an occupational habit… gotta see a man alive, you know?”
As he answered, Yu Bai headed for the door, not wanting to disturb the chess room’s peace and quiet.
Yan Jing, who’d been on the verge of dozing off in his seat, saw his chance to bail. He bolted after Yu Bai like a shot. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen Tian Ge. I wanna say hi—hee hee, you guys keep going!”
Yu Bai let him tag along without protest, too lazy to call him out. His mind was already turning to why Sun Tiantian might be calling.
It had to be to check up on him.
“I totally forgot—A Qiang and the others are still down at the station, and the cops chased me earlier.”
He muttered to himself, and Yan Jing jumped right in with practiced ease. “I remember Tian Ge’s out of town on a business trip right now. He wouldn’t drop everything and rush back overnight for you, would he?”
Yu Bai looked a touch worried. “…It’s very possible.”
After all, the single, childless Sun Tiantian had made it his life’s mission to play the ultimate doting dad.
Chatting idly amid the fading melody of the ringtone, the two left the chess room behind—their voices growing distant until they trailed off completely.
He Xi, who had stayed put obediently in the chess room, watched them go. She turned to the little boy beside her with wide-eyed curiosity. “Who’s Tian Ge?”
“No idea.” It was the second time Yuan Yuxing had heard that big-brotherish name, but he was still totally in the dark. “You’d have to ask Little Bai—er, Uncle. Sounds like a close friend of his, though.”
The little girl had already encountered so many new things in the few hours since tagging along with Yu Bai. She thought it over, then said enviously, “Brother Little Bai has tons of friends.”
There was Yan Jing Brother, who could knock out her dad with one punch; Grandpa Zhang, whose home felt like a garden paradise; the apparently super-cool Tian Ge… and even a god traveling the human world.
“Yeah, a ton,” Yuan Yuxing agreed offhandedly. “I figure we’ll end up meeting even more of Uncle’s friends before long.”
Who even knew what Little Bai did for a living? He seemed to have every type of person orbiting him.
Zhang Yunjiang paid the little interruption no mind. He reached to gather the scattered Go pieces, ready to call it a night, when a cool, crisp voice sounded right by his ear.
“One more game.”
The old man blinked in surprise, then broke into a grin. He didn’t catch the edge in the tone and agreed eagerly, afraid the offer might vanish. “Yes! Perfect!”
The little boy cut his chatter short and plopped back down properly on his cushion, eyes glued to the board. The little girl settled in quietly to watch as well.
Ten minutes later, Yu Bai still hadn’t returned from his call outside. The serene chess room held only the two adults and two children.
Nothing in the room had changed. The bonsai under the lights still had its sparse branches and lush green leaves—but it no longer evoked the poetic bloom of full spring. Now it felt more like the sweltering, heart-racing haze of midsummer.
Zhang Yunjiang, locked in the game, was drenched in sweat. He had no answer for the onslaught of black stones from across the board.
The little boy on his cushion was sweating bullets too, his expression a mirror of the old man’s. He barely dared to breathe.
The little girl blinked her big eyes, watching the ever-shifting board with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.
One by one, pitch-black Go stones dropped from pale, powerful fingertips—each landing exactly where it belonged.
Every placement sent Grandpa Zhang scrambling to wipe his brow in a panic. It made Grandpa Yuan’s eyes light up from the sidelines even as he clenched his fists in suspense.
Outside the board, the black-haired, blue-eyed young man gripped the black stones in silence. Those beautiful, almost inhuman eyes reflected the warm yellow grid inches away… or perhaps something else entirely.
He Xi gradually realized she could make out a bit of the chess style Grandpa Yuan had described.
It was so fierce.
She thought timidly to herself.
…Even fiercer than before!
