My seniority is extraordinary: I was only eight years old when the whole village came to wish me a H

In Seoul, at that top-tier private hospital.

Jin Zhicheng felt like he had a very, very long dream.

In his dream, he returned to that welcome banquet filled with clinking glasses, flowers, and applause.

Holding a wine glass, he was full of vigor, his sharp gaze fixed on the Chinese prodigy who was being forced into retreat by his verbal traps.

Whenever the other party showed an embarrassed expression, he felt a surge of exhilarating pleasure, as if years of grudges had finally been settled.

It was the posture of a victor, an illusion of being in control.

Just as he was about to utter that self-righteous, definitive "final blow," a chilling smile suddenly bloomed on the child's face.

That smile was eerie and profound, much like the bottom of an abyss, where some ancient and powerful being was observing his struggles and triumphs from the sidelines.

Immediately afterwards, the world began to shake violently, and the sky spun around.

He felt himself being suddenly pulled by an invisible force, plunging into an endless, dark abyss.

It was cold and suffocating; there was nothing but emptiness all around, with no foothold to hold onto.

"Minister...Minister! You...you're awake!"

A familiar voice, filled with a mixture of surprise and exhaustion, abruptly pulled him back from that nightmare of humiliation and fear.

Jin Zhicheng's eyelids trembled, and he slowly opened them.

The dazzling crystal chandelier left blurry spots of light on his retina, and his mind still felt groggy, as if it had been stirred up like paste.

He turned his head with difficulty and saw his young assistant, who looked haggard and had dark circles under his eyes, clearly having been watching over him for a long time.

"Contest……"

His throat felt like it had been scorched by fire; it was terribly dry.

His voice was hoarse, almost inaudible, yet it carried an undeniable determination as he uttered two words with difficulty.

He seemed to have forgotten some of what had happened before.

Looking at his extremely weak appearance, the assistant's face showed an indescribable complex expression, a mixture of pity, helplessness, and a hint of barely concealed despair. He opened his mouth with difficulty, his voice somewhat hoarse: "The match... is over."

"It's...it's over?" Kim Ji-sung's heart clenched, a chilling premonition washing over him like a cold tide. He didn't even wait for his assistant's answer before urgently pressing for a reply, his voice trembling uncontrollably: "The...what happened? We...we..."

The assistant's lips curled into a smile more painful than tears. He lowered his eyes and spoke in a voice so low it was almost inaudible: "We... lost."

These two words struck Jin Zhicheng's heart like two heavy hammer blows.

He felt a sudden darkness before his eyes, a ringing in his ears, and all the strength in his body seemed to be instantly drained away, leaving him feeling weak and sore deep in his bones.

We lost... We actually lost...

Their last hope, the dignity of their nation, and the very foundation upon which Kim Ji-sung stood on the diplomatic stage, were utterly crushed by that eight-year-old "devil."

A deathly, empty smile appeared on Jin Zhicheng's face.

He knew he was finished. His political career, his social reputation, and everything in the future would vanish with this defeat.

However, just when he was feeling utterly hopeless and despondent, his young assistant's next words were like the sharpest, most poisoned knife, piercing his already riddled heart with deadly precision.

"And... Minister..." The assistant's voice trembled with tears, as if lamenting for Kim Ji-sung, for their country, and for the absurdity before him. "Chang-hyuk... he not only lost the game."

The assistant paused, took a deep breath as if gathering courage to continue, and said, "He... he seems to have been completely brainwashed by that Wu You!"

"Now, he tells everyone he meets that Wu You is his teacher, the only goal he wants to achieve in his life!" The assistant's voice grew increasingly urgent, carrying an unbelievable sense of absurdity. "He also said... he also said that he wants to stay in China, become Wu You's disciple, and learn the true 'Way' of Go!"

What?!

These words were like thunderbolts from hell, striking Jin Zhicheng hard on the top of his head.

His eyes, which had just regained a sliver of life, widened instantly, filled with incomprehensible astonishment. His mouth gaped open, but no sound came out.

His face was filled with unprecedented shock and a horrifying, absurd expression.

Losing the game is one thing, but that's another.

If one's chess skills are not good enough, or one's technique is inferior to others, one can still find some excuses.

But now, even the person has been kidnapped by the other party?! This...this is...this is just too outrageous!

Jin Zhicheng felt his brain completely shut down at that moment, his thoughts falling into a chaotic blank.

He wasn't listening to a report; he was listening to the most absurd and ridiculous black humor joke in the world!

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, wanting to refute, wanting to roar.

But his throat felt like it was blocked by something, and he couldn't utter a single word.

A heart-wrenching pain shot through his chest, as if an invisible hand was squeezing his heart tightly.

Suddenly everything went black again, followed by a dizzying spin.

His head, which had just been slightly raised, fell heavily onto the pillow with a "thud".

His wide-open eyes slowly lost all their luster.

All that remained was endless emptiness and despair, and a numbness that seeped into one's very bones.

"Minister...Minister! Minister! What...what's wrong?!"

"Doctor! Doctor! Someone come quick! Our minister has fainted again!"

The ward was in complete chaos once again. The assistant's exclamations, the nurses' footsteps, and the clanging of instruments mingled together into a chaotic elegy.

And just as Kim Ji-sung was about to lose consciousness for the third time because of the same name.

A strongly worded internal disciplinary notice from the Blue House.

It was also quietly delivered to his bedside.

[After careful consideration, it has been decided to remove Comrade Jin Zhicheng from the post of Minister of Foreign Affairs.]

[For other uses.]

Those eight simple words, like a gavel delivering a death sentence, utterly shattered Jin Zhicheng's last remaining hope.

His life is completely over.

And that name, Wu You, is like a lingering nightmare, forever etched on his monument to failure.

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