The world of film and television begins with Hikaru no Go

Yu Xiaoyang leaned back in her chair, exhausted, and closed her eyes.

He recalled his early days learning Go as a boy, when his teacher told him, "Go is a game of wisdom between two players; you must know how to read your opponent's intentions."

He studied his opponents' intentions his entire life and never made a mistake.

But today, he can't read it.

How do you win against someone like that?

It rained all night in Seoul and didn't stop until dawn.

Zhang Rui was woken up by his alarm clock. He lay in bed, stared at the ceiling for a while, then turned over and picked up his phone.

March 30, LP Cup Finals, Game 3.

He won the first two games, 2-0.

Win one more game and the championship is in our hands.

As usual, there's not much pressure.

But he tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

Maybe the rain was too loud, or maybe the mattress wasn't soft enough.

I got up, washed up, changed into a thin black sweater, grabbed my room key, and went out.

The corridor was quiet; the carpet swallowed all footsteps.

The elevator doors opened, and Yu Xiaoyang was inside.

The opponent was wearing a dark blue suit, his hair was perfectly styled, just like in the previous two rounds.

The two looked at each other and nodded.

The elevator went down, and no one spoke.

Zhang Rui leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the floor numbers.

He noticed Yu Xiaoyang's hands—crossed in front of him, with distinct knuckles and neatly trimmed nails.

Unlike the previous two rounds, those hands were not trembling.

At the beginning of the month, when the game of Go reached the middle stage, Yu Xiaoyang's fingers would tremble almost imperceptibly before he placed a piece.

Not today.

Very stable.

Something about it is too stable.

When the elevator reached the first floor, Yu Xiaoyang stepped out first, her steps steady.

Zhang Rui followed behind, watching his figure disappear around the corner.

Last night, he turned on the TV and it happened to be a retrospective program on the Korean Go channel.

The video shows Yu Xiaoyang in his early thirties, at his peak, with sharp eyes and decisive moves, every step exuding an aura of confidence and determination.

He was completely different from the person who had been sitting opposite him.

In the first two games, Yu Xiaoyang was like an old knife dulled by time; it still had some power when drawn, but its sharpness had been lost.

But this morning—

Zhang Rui couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt something was different.

Perhaps he was overthinking it.

The chess room on the fourth floor of the chess academy features a kyaukme chessboard, ivory chess pieces, and light filtering through the blinds.

When Zhang Rui came in, Yu Xiaoyang was already seated.

He looked at Zhang Rui and smiled slightly.

It wasn't the kind of fierce laugh that screams "We must win today," it was just a very ordinary greeting.

Zhang Rui returned the greeting and sat down opposite him.

Guess first.

Yu Xiaoyang grabbed a handful of black pieces from the chess basket, while Zhang Rui picked up a white piece, placed it on the chessboard, and spread out his palm—seven black pieces.

Zhang Rui guessed correctly and went first with black.

First move – top right corner, star position.

The second move, Yu Xiaoyang's small eye in the upper left corner.

The third move: Zhang Rui's small eye in the upper left corner.

The fourth move is a high point for White in the lower right corner.

In the spectator room, Fang Xu was taken aback: "Gao Mu?"

The high-angle position emphasizes the external position, aiming to gain influence rather than territory, which is the complete opposite of the small-angle position in the previous two games.

This is a signal—Yu Xiaoyang doesn't want to stay any longer.

Zhang Rui stared at the tall figure for two seconds, and then the AI's blue marker appeared—bottom right corner, dot 33.

The black piece falls.

Yu Xiaoyang did not respond in the lower right corner, but instead took the lead—in the upper left corner, with the four lines hanging low in one space.

It's not a conventional hanging method; it hangs from the fourth line, invading the corner while simultaneously reducing the space for Black's stones, paving the way for development in the center.

Zhang Rui's AI provided a solution: the blue marker pointed to the corner, then it turned around to deal with the left side.

Without hesitation, he took the picture.

Yu Xiaoyang's next move—damn.

Head-to-head.

In the spectator room, Xu Hou gasped, "Has Teacher Yu gone mad?"

Fang Xu frowned deeply: "Teacher, he's instigating this fight."

"But--"

"I know," Fang Xu interrupted him. "To provoke a fight in front of Zhang Rui is tantamount to suicide. But if we don't provoke him, we're just waiting to die."

Kuwabara didn't speak, but gripped the folding fan tighter and tighter.

The battle in the middle game was much more intense than in the first two games.

Yu Xiaoyang stopped backing down and stopped seeking stability; every step she took was an offensive one.

It wasn't a reckless charge, but a calculated entanglement—like a snake, tightly coiling around its opponent, tightening its grip for every inch it loosens.

Zhang Rui's AI was functioning normally, with blue markers flashing continuously and the speed of piece placement remaining unchanged.

But those in the spectator room sensed a subtle difference.

In the first two games, Zhang Rui made every move as if he knew the answer in advance—decisive and without the slightest hesitation.

Today, although the pace of the game was still not slow, the rhythm was no longer that of "everything is under control," but more like... responding to each move as it comes.

It wasn't Zhang Rui who was dominating the game, but rather he was responding to Yu Xiaoyang's rhythm.

"Master Sang... don't you feel that today's game is different from the previous two?"

Kuwabara was silent for a moment, then nodded.

"It's definitely different. In the first two games, Zhang Rui was teaching Yu Xiaoyang how to play. But today—Yu Xiaoyang is playing his own game."

Inside the game room, Yu Xiaoyang's performance was getting better and better.

It's not that he has the advantage—in terms of points, Black still has a slight lead.

But his moves became increasingly fluid and decisive, as if every step he took was on a point that only he knew.

Zhang Rui sat opposite him expressionlessly, making his moves as usual.

But he felt something strange, not nervousness or anxiety, but a sense of... unfamiliarity.

In the nearly one year and a half he has been using AI to defeat countless opponents and win his ninth world championship. No one has ever made his AI "hesitate".

Yes, hesitation.

Just as Yu Xiaoyang made his fifty-ninth move, the blue marker in Zhang Rui's field of vision disappeared for a full three seconds.

three seconds.

This has never happened before.

The AI ​​provides the speed at which the piece is placed, usually within one second.

Even the most complex mid-game situation won't last more than two seconds.

But this time, it only took three seconds.

Three seconds later, the blue marker reappeared, pointing to the same precise location as before.

Zhang Rui acted as if nothing had happened.

But for those three seconds, he couldn't see anything.

There are no blue markers, no optimal solution, only a chessboard with incomprehensible black and white pieces.

The sixty-seventh move.

Yu Xiaoyang dropped a white piece - the middle abdomen, jumping.

This jump connected the white pieces on the left and top sides into one piece.

It's not about being thick or bulky, but rather a state between "thin" and "thick"—it looks like it would break at the slightest touch, but if you actually touch it, it just won't break.

Zhang Rui glanced at the AI's mark—"Invade, reduce the shape of White's center."

Then, Yu Xiaoyang's next move silenced everyone.

Neither besieging nor defending – a crossroads.

It landed at the connection between Zhang Rui's invading stone and the outside influence of the black stones.

This is tantamount to abandoning the idea of ​​encircling the center and instead cutting off the black stones' connections.

In the observation room, Fang Xu suddenly stood up.

"That hand—"

Kuwabara pressed his arm, gesturing for him to sit down.

"Keep watching."