IHSAGW Chapter 14

Nian Le paused for a moment. He hadn’t expected that boy to forfeit the match, nor had he expected his previous game to become so well-known.

“May I ask which Go dojo you studied at?”
Nian Le still wore a gentle smile, his expression soft.

“I’m from the Chunxiao Dojo. I have nothing to do with them.”
Gao Ran spoke very quickly, as if desperate to distance himself from the other group.

“But our two dojos did have joint activities before. I’ve played a few games with the player you made cry.”
Gao Ran looked at his opponent with great interest.

“I’m really curious today, what level someone has to be to force him to retire from a match.”

Nian Le lowered his eyes and let out a quiet sigh, saying nothing more.

Once the chief referee announced the start, Nian Le took White, and Gao Ran took Black. As the game clock was pressed, Gao Ran placed his first stone on the top-right star point and small point, each player claiming two corners.

The sound of stones being placed filled the venue. A referee occasionally wandered near their table, watching their board closely.

Ever since he had seen this young competitor’s previous game, the referee had tried replaying it afterward. The more he studied it, the more excited he became. He even called a few friends, fellow Go instructors to watch. They all reacted with astonishment.

“This game was definitely played by a professional—at least pro 5-dan. The style is so mature and stable; the player must be at least thirty.”

“No, no. Look at the creativity here, all these subtle ideas. This has to be a young player. There are only a handful of young rising stars in the scene right now come on, whose game do you think this resembles?”

The referee remembered clearly how stunned they were when he said it was played by an unknown amateur 3-dan young man. Their jaws practically hit the floor.

Now standing behind Nian Le again, the referee observed the basic situation. An amateur 3-dan up against a newly-qualified pro, there was a massive rank gap. Their ages were similar, but the game today was far more conservative on both sides compared to the previous round.

The pro player was like a soldier with a spear, constantly poking forward lightly to test the defenses. Meanwhile, Nian Le’s defense was extraordinarily solid, his patience and defensive ability both worth praising.

The game proceeded calmly, without dramatic fights. Seeing nothing eye-catching, the referee wandered through the aisles for a while. When he returned to their table and saw the board clearly, he couldn’t help but frown.

Nian Le was still defending.

Not that defending was wrong but such a steady defensive stance had its drawbacks.

Against a stronger opponent, relying solely on defense meant failing to gain advantage in the short term. It could even lead to disaster: once a single point was broken through, the rest of the board could collapse.

The true path of Go was a balance of defense and offense. Defending endlessly without counterattacking, even if the territory difference was small would eventually leave you helpless in the endgame, forced to watch your opponent win unless you had a miraculous move.

The referee let out a quiet sigh and continued his patrol.

An hour and a half later, when he passed by for the third time, he casually glanced at the two players, only to notice that the young pro wearing black-rimmed glasses was sweating, his brows tightly furrowed, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Looking at the board again, the referee subconsciously narrowed his eyes.

Still defending.

But now, the defensive side had gained full initiative, controlling the entire game. He was somehow advancing steadily, stone by stone, even while playing such a conservative style.

The 1-dan pro had already launched several fierce attacks, but all had been met with solid, impenetrable defense like stabbing a spear at an endless wall of steel. Before leaving a single scratch, the spear tip had already been worn dull.

Gao Ran stared at the board, feeling suffocated.

It was as if he were wrapped tightly in some unknown material, no matter how he pushed, clawed, or thrashed, he couldn’t tear it apart. The more he struggled, the thinner the air became. His hands gripped both sides of the constraint, pulling and shouting, but the other side remained perfectly unharmed.

Gao Ran felt like he was running out of breath. He looked up at the youth across from him. In those amber-colored eyes was a faint, gentle smile.

When the endgame finished, Gao Ran’s back was drenched in sweat. Seeing the referee place the lid on the board and let AI and staff count the stones, Gao Ran already knew the result.

His opponent hadn’t even counterattacked. There must have been holes in his own attacks, but the other player never exploited them. He simply defended with an unshakable wall.

“White wins by one hundred eighty points,” the referee announced, glancing at the winning player, Nian Le. He handed the result sheet to the losing side. Gao Ran’s expression was heavy as he signed his name.

That suffocating feeling still hadn’t faded.

He had lost and lost in a way that commanded total respect.

The referee finally understood.

A player like this… would choose to play a purely defensive game?

Someone with such overwhelming strength, fully aware of their skill difference, could control the board completely like a giant watching a toddler crawl. No matter how the toddler flailed, the giant could always keep him within bounds.

It was terrifying.

And yet… he was just a young amateur 3-dan.

With a gentle smile, Nian Le bowed to his opponent and watched him leave. Gao Ran lowered his head toward the board, unable to recover for a long while.

If this move had a name, it could only be called “Mount Tai Pressing From Above.” Not only for the crushing pressure during the game, but the overwhelming blow afterward.

Gao Ran tapped a stone lightly against the board, brows still furrowed. After a moment, a little girl approached cautiously, holding a small notebook.

“Hi, handsome brother.”
Her hair was styled in two buns, and she grinned, showing a toothless but innocent smile. “Did you win this game?”

“No.”
Gao Ran took a deep breath, trying to ease the discomfort lingering from the match.

“Let me guess.” The little girl spoke mysteriously. “Did you lose by six and a half?”

There was no surprise in Gao Ran’s eyes. He replied heavily, “Yes.”

“Aren’t you curious how I know?”
Xueqi puffed her cheeks, feeling less triumphant than she expected now that she’d revealed her “advantage.”

“He’s far stronger than me.” Gao Ran pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hearing you ask, I knew his calculation skills must be amazing too.”

“Heeyy, you’re better than the ones before!” Xueqi beamed proudly. “One guy even believed he was supposed to win and only lost because he slipped up.”

“Don’t be discouraged, handsome brother. He beat me too! That was my first round. I thought it was just because I was weak, but after that I won three games! You’ll win later too!”

Gao Ran let out a helpless laugh. As the little girl hopped away, he looked down at the board again only to notice someone else approaching.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the uniform of the Mianhai Dojo. Leading the group was Cheng Xu, the same player from their previous dojo exchange.

“Brother Gao, the guy you just played how strong is he?”
Cheng Xu leaned forward and lowered his voice, glancing nervously at the messy board from the counting.

“He beat me by six and a half.”
Gao Ran answered honestly, expression calm.

“Oh, a small margin.”
Cheng Xu rubbed his chin, eyes shifting thoughtfully. “So your strength and his should be about the same.”

Gao Ran’s mouth twitched, but he stayed silent.

During the previous dojo match (best of five), Cheng Xu had beaten him twice. Their skills were close. Cheng Xu had failed to qualify in the pro exam; Gao Ran had succeeded—partly thanks to luck.

“Alright, got it. That’s enough for me to judge.”
Cheng Xu let out a breath of relief, straightened up, and led his group out of the venue.

“Just wait. I’ll definitely get matched with him later.”
Cheng Xu puffed himself up in front of his followers. “Watch closely when the time comes I’ll show you how I make him lose.”

“And then, I’ll make him delete that recording and make sure he learns his lesson for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong!”

Having secured his fifth consecutive win, Nian Le skillfully pedaled his little green bike across Jiangzhou Bridge. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a group of old men fishing by the pier with a cardboard sign reading “Five yuan per jin.” He almost stopped to take a look, but suddenly remembered what had happened in front of the villa two days ago and forced himself to keep going.

Better to go home quickly and keep an eye on his younger brother. After all, he was staying there temporarily; anything that happened in the villa would also be partly his responsibility.

Thinking of how Huo Weiran had knocked his cast-wrapped arm against the table that morning, Nian Le took a deep breath and pedaled even faster.

When he returned to the villa, it was quiet and tidy. He checked the time, picked out ingredients from the fridge, and cooked dinner. By the time the food was ready, it was mealtime.

Seeing Huo Weiran coming down from the second floor, he noticed the young man was wearing a hat for some reason.

Even during the meal, Huo Weiran didn’t remove it. When he lowered his head, the brim nearly poked into his food. Nian Le set down his chopsticks and quietly watched him.

If he wasn’t mistaken, the back of the hat was smooth and flat without a single strand of hair falling out.

If he hadn’t stuffed all his tied-up hair into the hat, then there was only one possibility.

Across the table, he suddenly put down his chopsticks. The atmosphere felt like the calm before a storm. Huo Weiran stopped hiding, lifted his head to meet Nian Le’s gaze, and in front of him, he stiffly removed his hat.

Nian Le’s eyes quickly swept over the top of Huo Weiran’s head. Seeing that he still had hair, just that the tied section at the back had been cut off, he finally let out a long breath.

As long as it wasn’t shaved off completely, everything could still be dealt with.

Before the Huo family went on their trip, their son still had long hair. If he returned suddenly bald… not only would the Huo family be shocked, even Nian Le would struggle to accept it.

Huo Weiran had already prepared himself to be scolded.

Even he didn’t understand why he cared so obsessively about something so small, why his mind kept circling around it, imagining countless possibilities behind Nian Le’s practiced movements, wondering who he had practiced on if he didn’t have siblings.

Thoughts piled up endlessly like fallen leaves until they nearly buried him. Huo Weiran struggled to shake himself free, yet he couldn’t even distract himself with anything else.

He wanted to know Nian Le’s past, every detail of his life—what he liked and disliked, every person he had ever interacted with. Huo Weiran wanted to dig three feet into the ground to uncover all of it.

It wasn’t until he found himself standing in front of the guest room Nian Le stayed in that Huo Weiran snapped back to reality, realizing just how irrational his impulse had been.

Back in his own room, Huo Weiran picked up scissors. Facing the mirror, he wanted to cut away the source of all these overwhelming thoughts. But when the tied lock of hair fell into the sink, the only thing he gained was a moment of quiet.

More worries surged in like a rising tide.

Each one accused him of what he had just done.

Nian Le would definitely be displeased, he had tied that lock with his own hands, yet it was cut off in the blink of an eye.

If he knew how petty he was being over something so trivial, he would surely think that his future spouse had an absurdly small heart, impossible to reason with.

He wouldn’t leave… but he would understand even more clearly how narrow-minded his fiancé was. He would quietly subtract a little affection in his heart and distance himself appropriately.

Huo Weiran searched through the wardrobe until he found a hat. It could cover the chopped hair but not the fact that the missing lock had existed.

Sitting alone in the walk-in closet, Huo Weiran once again realized—

He really was a hypersensitive monster.

No wonder people would grow to dislike him more and more.