The world of film and television begins with Hikaru no Go

The afternoon match continued, and Xu Junlang kept nagging as he played: "You lost out on that bowl of noodles earlier. Eating noodles shows you're a loser. You won't win this round."

Time flies, and the moves are made with precision and accuracy.

An hour later, Xu Junlang threw the chess piece into the chess basket: "I lost. You weren't bothered by me, good mentality."

Xu Junlang lost, but he wasn't in a hurry to leave. He took out his ID card and handed it over.

Looking back at the date, February 21, 1997, it was indeed within the age limit.

The photo showed a fair-skinned young man, a stark contrast to the bearded face before us.

"I'm not kidding you, I just look a little older than my age."

Time handed the certificate back to him, stood up, and said, "I really can't believe you're only two years older than me."

"Sigh, I'm two years older than you, but I'm much worse at chess than you." Xu Junlang leaned back in his chair. "I came up here on purpose to mess with you and disrupt your rhythm. But you didn't react at all, and all my moves were just hitting cotton."

"If you like Go, play it properly. You won't get far by resorting to crooked methods."

Xu Junlang was taken aback for a moment, then smiled: "Young man, you're right."

In the seventh round, Shi Guang faced off against Shen Yilang.

The two had practiced countless times at the dojo.

But today is different—today is the ranking tournament, where winners advance and losers may fall behind.

Time sat before the chessboard, its fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the chessboard basket.

Shen Yilang sat opposite him, his expression calm, his gaze fixed on the chessboard like a deep pool of water.

Guess first, time holds the black.

First move, the star position in the upper right corner.

Shen Yilang responded with a gesture, his eyes appearing in the lower left corner.

During the opening phase, both players played very slowly, each move carefully considered, without any impatience.

Chu Ying floated beside Shi Guang without saying a word.

He knew what this match meant to both of them—not just the outcome, but also all the hard work they had put in over the past year.

Entering the middle stage, Shi Guang took the initiative to change tactics.

Black played a "leaning" move on the left side, trying to break through White's territory.

Shen Yilang frowned slightly, but did not panic.

White responded steadily, blocking Black's attack.

Time didn't stop there; it immediately started another battle in the lower right corner.

On the chessboard, black and white pieces are intertwined and the battle has reached a fever pitch.

Shen Yilang's white pieces resembled a net, tightening its grip and confining the black pieces' influence to the edges and corners.

But the black pieces of time were not trapped; they charged left and right in the narrow space, searching for every place where they could take root.

In move 107, Black jumps, directly penetrating the weakest point in White's center.

Shen Yilang's fingers froze as he stared at the chess piece and began to calculate.

If White responds here, a gap will be torn in White's defense; if White doesn't respond, Black will rush in directly, taking away half of the large territory in the center. It seems like no matter which move you make, you'll lose.

Shen Yilang's forehead began to sweat. After taking a deep breath, he chose to respond.

White played a move in the center, sealing off Black's opening.

But the price was that Black gained two points on the left and also won a big endgame move in the lower right corner.

This back-and-forth movement resulted in a difference of at least three points.

The game has entered the endgame, and both sides have very little time left.

Shen Yilang's move speed was noticeably faster, but he was also more cautious.

Every step is a race against time, and every step must be taken with utmost care.

The pace of time remains steady, neither fast nor slow.

On his 189th move, Shen Yilang used the "sticky" technique.

The move itself wasn't wrong, but the timing was off. If it had been played five moves earlier, it would have gained a 1.5-point advantage; now, it gains nothing.

Time keenly seized the opportunity, and Black played a "point" in the upper left corner, gaining a double initiative in the endgame.

Back and forth, the difference is again two points.

Shen Yilang looked at the chessboard, remained silent for a long time, and then put the white piece in his hand back into the chess basket.

"I lost."

Shi Guang paused for a moment, then stood up and bowed slightly.

Neither of them spoke, but the moment their eyes met, they both understood each other's meaning.

Shen Yilang walked off the field, his steps somewhat heavy.

In the corridor, Bai Xiaoxiao stood there, holding a bottle of water in her hand.

"Ichiro."

Shen Yilang raised his head and forced a smile.

"You lost?"

"Um."

Bai Xiaoxiao handed over the water, offering no words of comfort, only saying, "Keep it up."

Shen Yilang took the water, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.

"I know. I won't lose again."

In the eighth round, Shen Yilang faced off against a player ranked lower.

The opponent wasn't particularly strong, but he played very tenaciously, giving it his all with every move.

Shen Yilang gave him no chance, taking the initiative in the opening phase and playing a beautiful "cross-cut" move in the middle game, directly tearing apart the opponent's defense and ultimately winning in the middle game.

In the ninth round, the opponents were of similar strength.

This game was much more difficult than the eighth round. The two sides engaged in a fierce battle in the middle game, and the situation was deadlocked at one point.

Shen Yilang used more time than his opponent, but he didn't panic at all. Instead, he made a "pong" move in a seemingly insignificant local situation, disrupting his opponent's rhythm.

The opponent pondered for nearly ten minutes but ultimately failed to find the best response.

Shen Yilang won.

Half an eye.

It was a close call, but he won.

In the tenth, eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth rounds, Shen Yilang won all the way. After losing to Shi Guang in the seventh round, he never lost again.

It's not because the opponent is too weak, but because he has changed.

His chess moves are no longer as conservative and timid as before; they now possess something new—decisiveness.

When Ban Heng was tallying the students' scores at the dojo, he said to Zhu Dayong, "Shen Yilang has finally figured it out."

Zhu Dayong snorted, "He's too late to realize it."

"It's not too late." Ban Heng smiled. "Just right."

After twelve rounds, the rankings were posted on the wall of the hall.

The trainees crowded at the front, craning their necks to find their names.

Time squeezed to the front, my eyes scanned the ranking list, and stopped at the first line.

First place: Time, 12 wins and 0 losses.

"Chu Ying! Did you see that? I'm number one!"

Chu Ying floated beside him, smiling: "I saw it. Congratulations, you've reached the next level."

Shiguang took a deep breath, squeezed out of the crowd, stood in the corner of the hall, leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down to sit on the ground.

"I've decided on the next section," he said in a low voice, as if confirming something.

Then he laughed.

Shen Yilang stood in front of the ranking list, his gaze moving down from the first place.

Second place: Shen Yilang, with eleven wins and one loss.

He stared at the words for a long time, then turned around and walked out of the crowd.

In the corridor, Bai Xiaoxiao stood there, looked up at him, and smiled.

"Congratulations."

Shen Yilang was stunned for a moment, then he smiled.

"Thanks."

The two stood side by side, neither of them speaking.

But at that moment, nothing needed to be said.

This year, five people from the Yijianghu Dojo achieved the highest rank, fewer than last year, but still the best result among all the dojos in Fangyuan City.