Yang Qicheng hadn't watched the first episode of 'Hikaru no Go', so episode two opened with a scene that caught him off guard: a young boy named Hikaru Shindo standing outside a youth Go competition venue, bumping into Akira.
Inside, dozens of kids were focused intensely on their matches, a sight that stirred something inside Hikaru.
"It's… kind of moving, seeing so many people taking Go so seriously," he said.
"Moved?" Akira shot back. "Have you ever taken anything seriously?"
His hands were clean—no trimmed fingernails worn from training, no thick calluses formed from hours of playing. Clearly, Hikaru wasn't someone who spent much time at the board.
And yet, he was the one who beat Akira.
"Do you… Want to become a pro Go player?" Akira asked.
"Me? Hahaha. A pro? I've never even thought about that. Do you want to be one?"
Yang Qicheng furrowed his brows. Wait, this Hikaru guy… is the protagonist?
He didn't know anything about Go, but even he could tell Akira took the game seriously. That smug, dismissive attitude from Hikaru? It almost felt like a mockery.
"Yes!" Akira answered, eyes full of fire.
Thunder cracked as he spoke. His eyes were unwavering—resolute. Just a fourth-grader, and already he'd found the path he wanted in life. And he was working at it with the dedication of an adult.
Yang Qicheng sat up straighter.
Whether it was the music, the acting, or the writing—something hit him right in the gut.
But then Hikaru changed the subject, asking how much money a pro Go player could make. When he learned that winning all major titles could net him tens of millions in prize money, he laughed:
"Well then! Being a pro player doesn't sound half-bad. Win a few tournaments, get rich—easy!"
His voice was full of cocky glee.
Akira's expression instantly changed. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by indignation and disgust.
"What kind of joke is that? Do you even hear yourself? That's an insult to every pro player. How can someone who calls himself a player talk like that?"
The second episode opened with a rain-soaked reunion between Akira Toya and Hikaru Shindo. Their brief conversation turned into a confrontation. Akira, still unable to accept his loss to someone who treated Go like a joke, challenged him to a rematch.
Backed by the swelling background music, the scene carried a surprising sense of grief and gravity.
Viewers in the fan group exploded:
"Damn, the protagonist's really pushing it. Even kids need some self-awareness."
"Classic spoiled brat. If this actor weren't so cute, people would be tearing him apart."
"Ugh, I'm kind of annoyed with Hikaru now. No filter at all."
"This is how a lot of kids talk, though. Let's see where it goes."
"If I were Akira, I'd be furious. I worked my butt off to reach this level, and the guy who beat me talks like becoming a pro and winning world championships is just… whatever? That's so disrespectful."
Yang Qicheng, meanwhile, was locked in—glued to the screen.
He didn't know the rules of Go, but still, he found himself rooting hard for Akira to crush Hikaru.
Thunder rolled. The atmosphere darkened. Tension crackled in the air. Unlike their first match, there was no "handicap" this time. Akira requested an even match and chose to play white.
Dozens of people at the Go club gathered to watch.
Fujiwara no Sai, played by Jing Yu, finally had more screen time, stepping in to provide commentary.
Yang Qicheng still couldn't follow what was happening. He didn't understand the board layout or how the match was going. But as the two boys took turns playing stones, as the music swelled and emotions ran high, he found his heart racing.
He couldn't stop glancing at his phone—the fan chat group had people live-explaining the match with screenshots.
For the first time in his life, Yang Qicheng was watching a hyper-specialized, technical drama—and couldn't understand a damn thing.
And he loved it.
"Damn, is Go really this badass?"
In the fan group:
"That last move? Gave white two living eyes in the lower left, but lost the corner."
"What's a 'living eye'?"
"Go buy a ¥20 beginner book. I'm not explaining it in a group chat."
"White's entire bottom and right side are being eaten alive. Can't recover."
"What? But it's only mid-game!"
"Yeah, and this is Go—the most complex board game on Earth. Pros stomp amateurs hard."
"Quick math: upper left—40+, lower right—10+, bottom side—5+. White's way behind. This is clean, professional-level Go. They're not faking it with amateur moves."
"Game over."
"Honestly, I would've resigned like 20 moves ago. There's no comeback."
"Akira's getting wrecked. Sai, please go easy. He's just a kid!"
"My heart hurts watching this."
"So this is what it feels like when I get headshot by a cheater in a shooter game."
Akira kept his head down, fists clenched. He tried to hold it in, but tears of frustration eventually spilled out.
His voice trembled as he choked out the words, admitting defeat to Hikaru.
It hurt to watch.
Hikaru, realizing how much his earlier words had affected Akira, tried to comfort him.
"Akira, you're amazing."
"I really admire how serious you are."
"You're honestly incredible."
"You take this game so seriously…"
And that was not the right move.
Viewers weren't having it:
"If you can't say anything useful, shut up. This just feels like mockery."
"Bro's EQ is in the negatives."
"Don't cry, Akira. Big sister is here to comfort you."
"This hurts more than getting griefed in a ranked game. I get it now."
"That final comment raised my blood pressure."
"Salt-sprinkling level: MAX. Hikaru, the king of emotional damage."
By this point, the ratings for 'Hikaru no Go' had quietly climbed to 3.49%.
Yang Qicheng had completely forgotten he was a Go novice. Forgotten that just two hours ago, he'd checked out the show only because he was annoyed at Fireworks for ending on a cliffhanger. He'd searched for something else with the same high rating—and stumbled into 'Hikaru no Go'.
He didn't understand a single rule.
But he couldn't stop watching.
The music? The acting? The plot? Even the chessboard he couldn't read?
Every moment of episode two was electric.
—
Later in the episode, after Hikaru's win, Koyo Toya —Akira's father and the strongest Go player in the nation—invited him to a match.
Sai's face-off against Koyo Toya was nothing short of breathtaking.
They barely exchanged a few moves, but every second felt cinematic.
Especially when Hikaru, visibly awestruck by Koyo Toya's poised form, changed his own posture: no longer pinching the stone between thumb and index finger, but now grasping it with index and middle fingers, slamming it down with power and conviction.
It fell like a meteor.
Crisp. Clean. Resounding.
It was as if the stone itself glowed on the board.
"If I could play like that…"
For the first time, Hikaru wasn't playing Go just to help Fujiwara no Sai chase the mythical "Divine Move."
He was playing… because he wanted to.
At that moment, he awakened. His passion burst through the screen.
It was thrilling.
—
The story quickly transitioned past the characters' childhood years.
Following a brief disappearance due to conflict, Sai reappeared in Hikaru's life during middle school, two years later.
This part of the adaptation mainly served to fast-forward the narrative and shift focus to their teenage years.
Episode two ended with Fujiwara no Sai's return—just as the ending theme kicked in.
By now, 'Hikaru no Go's live viewership had spiked to 3.86%.
And when the episode wrapped, the average rating was officially reported as 3.50%.
That number made executives across the TV industry sit up straight.
"Second episode and it's already at 3.5%?"
Could this show… actually break into the Top 10 of spring season viewership rankings?
"Is this for real? Is Yunteng TV, after two years, finally breaking back into the Top 10 thanks to a Go drama?!"
In the fan chat, one complaint echoed loud and clear:
"Damn this writer and their cliffhangers! This episode was way too short!"
Yang Qicheng took a deep breath.
He still didn't get it—why he, someone who hadn't even seen the first episode and knew nothing about Go, was now completely obsessed.
But one thing was certain:
He was absolutely coming back next week.
He didn't understand Go.
But the show?
The show was fire.
The music, the cast, the direction—even those incomprehensible Go matches—'Hikaru no Go' didn't have a single boring frame.
—
Curious, Yang Qicheng looked up more info on the show.
"Yunteng TV. Screenwriter: Jing Yu. Also plays Fujiwara no Sai…"
Wait... this guy wrote the show, wrote the music, AND plays the mysterious genius Fujiwara no Sai?
Seriously? That pretty boy from the drama is the one who made this whole thing?!