Chapter 16: Playing Chess (Part Two)

Sure enough, as three or four more stones fell, the players across all ten boards successively threw down their stones and conceded defeat.

Someone who did not understand Go asked:
"Why are they conceding already? Aren't there still so many empty spots beside them?"

Yet no one answered. The more accomplished one's skill in Go, the more one comprehended the terrifying depth of Jingri Guming’s prowess.

After the first batch of challengers suffered defeat, a full three quarters of an hour passed without a single person daring to step forward.

As time elapsed, some regained their courage and entered the arena once more; some reasoned that the chance to play a single match against such a grandmaster was worth having, even if it meant losing; while others believed their own skill surpassed that of the initial group, and having witnessed Jingri Guming’s style of play, perhaps they could last a few more moves!

The matches began anew, and Jingri Guming played as he always did, opening on the Tengen point.

However, as the players on the field placed their stones, they finally understood the feelings of the first batch.

It was as if all their thoughts and considerations were already anticipated by the Prince of Bei Jing. Every single stone played by the Prince went straight for the fatal weakness, forcing his opponents into defensive postures with no room for negligence.

Yet after three or five moves, they would discover that the defense they believed to be flawless was utterly laughable, for the Prince of Bei Jing seemed to have foreseen the entire board state seven or eight moves prior.

Defense proved futile. Some chose to abandon their positions and start afresh, but after playing merely a few moves, they realized that the Prince of Bei Jing had long since seized the vital points with a few casual placements. No matter where they played, doom awaited them.

Thus, after a brief struggle, this second batch of Go masters suffered the same fate, lasting on average only a dozen more moves than the first group before conceding defeat.

"Ahem... ahem..."

The Prince of Bei Jing covered his mouth with a slight cough, then accepted a herbal tonic from Canglang.

"Does Grand-Uncle wish to rest for a moment?"
"It is nothing."

Jingri Guming waved his hand, his gaze as calm as still water. Defeating more than a dozen masters as easily as plucking something from his pocket was not an achievement worthy of joy to him.

Following the defeat of the two batches of challengers, Feng Huang and Mo Cangli, standing among the onlookers, grew solemn.

Through these two rounds, all the Go masters recognized that the Prince of Bei Jing was an expert, but they still failed to grasp just how profound his mastery truly was.

Even Feng Huang and Mo Cangli were unable to fathom Jingri Guming's baseline, and that was precisely what made it terrifying.

To Jingri Guming, however, this was merely testing the waters. Having mastered the secret formulas of Go, witnessed all manner of unorthodox strategies, and possessed a restored soul, whether it was multi-board simultaneous combat or reading the opponent's patterns, everything lay before his eyes as clear as a mirror.

As for the coughing, it was entirely put on for the benefit of certain scheming individuals.

Jingri Guming glanced at the people assembled in the arena, then sat down and closed his eyes to rest and gather his spirit!

"Aren't you renowned as the Go King of the Southern Border, having never met your match in chess? Why don't you go up and test your skills against him?"
"Aren't you the Go Saint of the Central Plains? Hurry up and step forward! If you defeat the Prince of Bei Jing, the Central Plains will be depending on you! Right now!"

Yet the people in the crowd only whispered among themselves, and not a single person stepped onto the stage. Even when mocked or egged on, they simply pretended not to hear.

Shortly thereafter, those few universally acknowledged Go masters exchanged glances and turned to leave.

Jingri Guming knew that they were returning to confer with one another, to study and analyze his playing style and tactical patterns.

As for giving up—just as a gambler cannot visit a gambling house without throwing a few dice, how could they possibly resign themselves to leaving without sparring against a grandmaster?

It was merely the arrogance inherent to masters that made them unwilling to suffer too ugly a defeat. As for winning, that was a thought that had never once crossed their minds.

"It seems the morning session has drawn to a close. Let us return."

Jingri Guming tightened his trench coat and spoke with a trace of a cough.

With the departure of several key figures, the crowd also dispersed. There would undoubtedly be another battle in the afternoon, and everyone was eagerly awaiting it.

***

In the afternoon, Jingri Guming looked at the ten people seated before the chessboards and smiled faintly:
"Brave souls!"

He then glanced at those hailed as the Go King and Go Saint:
"You two... very well, please."

After that, Jingri Guming fell silent. Having ten challengers naturally meant some had been drafted merely to make up the numbers, intended to drain Jingri Guming’s focus and energy.

Just as in the morning, he yielded the first move.

As the stones fell one by one, Jingri Guming walked back and forth among the ten boards as though he required no thought whatsoever.

No matter who played, Jingri Guming would immediately walk over to the corresponding board and make his response.

Yet as time passed, people gradually began to notice something amiss. Those players brought in to pad the numbers—whose positions should long since have been lost—remained in placid, ordinary games where victory and defeat were indistinguishable. Meanwhile, the Go King and the Go Saint had been driven into desperate, dead-end crises.

"I concede!"
"I concede!"

The faces of the Go King and the Go Saint turned ashen. As for continuing to entangle themselves further, at least in full view of the public, they could no longer afford to lose face.

As for the remaining few, it was evident that the Prince of Bei Jing was intentionally showing mercy to humiliate the two grandmasters, serving as his response to them, since the remaining challengers were all disciples and grand-disciples of the two masters.

"Hmph!"

Following the defeat of the Go King and the Go Saint, Jingri Guming walked before the remaining chessboards and placed a single stone on each.

The moment these stones dropped, the remaining eight players suffered defeat one after another. Moreover, this final stone connected all the black pieces across the boards, forming eight distinct characters across the eight games:

*Despicable clowns, scattered like falling blossoms in flowing water!*

"Pfft..." (x2)

The Go King and the Go Saint, who had not yet departed, caught sight of those eight characters and instantly spurted fresh blood:
"Prince of Bei Jing, you are utterly merciless!"

Accompanied by the victory of the Prince of Bei Jing on this day, these eight characters would inevitably spread far and wide alongside his name, while the two of them would become the laughingstock of the entire world.

Jingri Guming smiled faintly:

"To dare play petty tricks before this Prince—sparing your lives is already showing utmost respect to the heroes of the world! Please leave."

Before departing, Jingri Guming cast a meaningful glance at Feng Huang and Mo Cangli.

***

"My friend, seeing those eight characters, what thoughts come to mind?"

Feng Huang used his folding fan to shield his eyes, unwilling to let Cang Jingren see the excitement and pressure contained within them.

"Guiding the opponent, making the opponent move entirely according to your design!"

Luo Bi wore a grave expression. To make an enemy of such a person meant you would never even know whether a move you made was your own desire or something arranged by your opponent.

***

"Guiding the opponent?"

The Physician of Hell exclaimed in astonishment:
"The opponent's intended moves are actually the ones you orchestrated for them? Such a realm..."

"I never imagined that besides you, there would actually be a second person to reach it!"
"Hahahaha..."

Mo Cangli, usually so serene and detached, was actually laughing:
"Interesting, truly interesting. Heavens, is this the adversary you have forged for me?"

Mo Cangli looked up at the sky with an unbridled, arrogant expression, carrying a trace of faint mockery.

***

At the Prince of Bei Jing's residence, Qianxue Guming said to Jingri Guming:
* "Uncle, you are truly formidable! Remember to hold back when playing against Ah-Feng tomorrow, lest that fellow lose too miserably!"

Having witnessed his uncle's performance today, Qianxue Guming no longer held a shred of confidence in Feng Huang.

"Qianxue, tell me—would you rather fall in defeat while your opponent gives their all, or fall in defeat while your opponent deliberately goes easy on you?"

Jingri Guming did not answer Qianxue Guming directly, instead posing a rhetorical question.

Qianxue Guming instantly realized his error, recognizing that anxiety had clouded his judgment:
"Ah, poor Ah-Feng!"

The night was silent and still, quietly awaiting the arrival of the morrow.