"Hmm? A new variation?"
The moment Jing Yu spoke those words, Su Lin felt a chill down his spine.
Could there be another trap?
No, no, that didn't make sense. Who has that much free time to keep inventing new tricks like this?
If Jing Yu were a professional Go player, it would make sense. Pros play and research constantly, refining obscure sequences and odd openings. But Jing Yu?
Su Lin reassessed the situation.
The current 3-3 invasion had already evolved into an extremely complicated local battle. At this point, Su Lin felt it was on par with many advanced and convoluted joseki. The balance between black and white in the upper left was still fairly even, with endless variations on the horizon.
Jing Yu had already done the unthinkable by developing the move to this extent. Could there really be another trap? Even if there was, with dozens of possible variations from this point on, a 9-dan like Su Lin wouldn't blunder blindly into it. These kinds of traps might fool amateurs—but a pro?
Not likely.
With that thought, Su Lin composed himself and returned his focus to the game.
In the fan chat groups:
"This position is insane! So complicated!"
"I'm totally lost. Never thought that little 3-3 invasion we learned in Go class as kids could lead to this."
"What a battle! The upper-left is chaos, but so balanced—both players are deeply entangled. I love it!"
"Go, Teacher Jing Yu! Smash him!"
"If he wins this game, I swear I'll be a lifelong fan."
"Let's GOOOOO!"
The battle continued to rage in the upper-left. Move after move, Jing Yu and Su Lin expanded the skirmish into a full-blown war.
But at last... it reached its limit.
Jing Yu had originally based this variation on the game played by Tsutsui in 'Hikaru no Go', but the sequence hadn't gone any deeper in the script. At the time, he'd considered it unrealistic for a middle school student like Tsutsui to pull off anything more advanced than a spliced-together patchwork of real-life pro sequences.
So in the original show, the sequence stopped here.
But in real life?
From the AI era onward, the 3-3 invasion had become one of the most heavily analyzed openings in the professional Go world. Top-tier players like Ke Jie and Mi Yuting had all explored it thoroughly.
Now, Su Lin—under the influence of 'Hikaru no Go'—had played straight into a very specific variation. And this variation?
It connected directly to Mi Yuting's legendary "Flying Dagger" sequence.
White: jump.
Black: cut.
White: attach.
Su Lin's expression grew increasingly serious.
Jing Yu's sequence left him no choice but to respond. The already complicated situation had grown even more chaotic.
His mind was running at full speed.
After several more intense exchanges, the shape finally settled.
In the observation room, Zhou Zhengguang suddenly spoke.
"Su's won the fight over the upper-left corner."
He wore a faint smile.
The other three pros who had been eliminated finally realized what was happening.
In this corner, Jing Yu's white stones had only three liberties, while Su Lin's black stones had five. White had to capture second, and even if white abandoned a few stones to concede territory, the resulting framework on the outside wasn't particularly strong.
Black had a small advantage here.
"He won?" Qian Yu blinked in surprise.
"Finally, someone broke that screenwriter's little trick," Huoyu let out a long breath.
"As expected of Su Lin 9-dan. Found the counter in one afternoon. I need to learn from him!" Xu Jun praised.
Even online, sharp-eyed players were starting to notice.
"Sigh, looks like Teacher Jing Yu lost the battle in the upper left."
"Wait, really? His 3-3 got broken?"
"So what? He only lost a little in that corner. There's still a lot of game left to play."
"Still… something feels off. Su Lin's adaptability is terrifying."
"Keep fighting, Teacher Jing Yu!"
Jing Yu glanced at the board and couldn't help but acknowledge Su Lin's skill. Against a weaker player, the sequence would've collapsed long ago. No one plays a 3-3 variation perfectly on their first try.
But Su Lin was strong. Even without the help of the game record from 'Hikaru no Go', he had managed to intuit the right continuation. This gave his black stones a tangible advantage in the upper left.
But precisely because Su Lin was so strong...
Jing Yu's eyes lit up. He played a new move:
White: hane (a peep move).
"Huh?" Su Lin squinted, checking the board three times.
A hane, right into enemy territory.
All he had to do was respond, and Jing Yu's stone would be captured instantly.
Was this… a blunder? A sacrifice?
Su Lin began to think.
"What's Teacher Jing Yu doing? Throwing away stones?"
"Did he misclick or misplace? One space too far, maybe?"
"No backsies in Go. Gotta live with it. One stone gone."
"Maybe the pressure got to him after his 3-3 was cracked?"
"Nah, he's not a pro, doesn't need to care that much. So why would he tilt?"
"We have been putting a ton of pressure on him. Expecting him to be 'Fujiwara no Sai' from the show—undefeated and all that. That's gotta mess with your mindset."
"Just a single stone. Let it go."
"Just a stone? What do you think this is, playing Go with grandpas in the park? Between 9-dans, one stone can mean the whole game."
Su Lin didn't overthink it.
A stone delivered to his door? Why not take it?
And strategically, he had to take it. If he left it there, Jing Yu would absolutely start building around it, turning that sacrifice into a powerful framework.
He captured the white stone.
Jing Yu exhaled slowly, the corners of his lips curling into a smile.
He continued placing moves. Several rounds of fast-paced exchanges followed, and the board expanded again.
The upper-left fight had finally come to a close.
But now, looking at the board as a whole, Su Lin's expression suddenly froze. His mind went into overdrive.
"No… that can't be."
In the observation room, Zhou Zhengguang's eyes went wide too.
"Wait… how? That stone? That sacrifice was the key?!"
"What do you mean?" Qian Yu looked over, confused.
"Count the liberties. How many does black have here?"
"Four… right?"
But after a few seconds, Qian Yu's expression twisted in shock. He leaned closer to the screen, eyes widening.
"W-what?!"
Huoyu and Xu Jun followed, both slowly realizing what had happened.
Originally, black had five liberties in this region. That meant black always had a tempo advantage when it came to capturing races.
One move ahead is everything.
That edge is what had put white at a disadvantage.
But now… black only had four liberties left.
And white was now ahead by one move.
That one move flipped the script. Where black was once dominant, now white had control.
In the usual pattern—white at star point, black invades 3-3—black secures solid territory in the corner, and white gains outward influence. Normally, white gets a slight advantage.
But through this new 3-3 method and Su Lin's perfect counters, things had equalized. If anything, white had a slight disadvantage in the corner.
But now… with this sacrifice...
Jing Yu's outside structure had become even stronger than in the standard variation. The whole region now favored him overwhelmingly.
"How… how did this happen?!" Qian Yu was stunned.
"It was that sacrifice." Zhou Zhengguang sighed.
"Su wanted to capture that stone, so he played one extra move," he continued. "And that single move reduced his group's liberties from five to four."
"Jing Yu gave up a stone... in exchange for complete control of the outer structure. The upper-left corner may still be a slight loss for white in territory, but the surrounding area? Su has no hope of contesting that anymore."
"That sneaky screenwriter…" Huoyu mumbled, stunned. "Did he plan this dozens of moves ago?"
"That hand move was brilliant," Zhou sighed again. "To adjust so quickly based on Su's specific responses—this guy's depth is terrifying."
Sweat beaded on Su Lin's forehead. He finally understood what had just happened.
"That move…" he whispered, "what's it called?"
"Flying Dagger," Jing Yu replied with a smile. "Accurate name would be 'Mi-style Flying Dagger.'"
In Jing Yu's previous life, ever since AlphaGo had revived interest in the 3-3 invasion, the move became a hot topic. All top-level players dove into its complexities.
The Mi-style Flying Dagger was one such byproduct.
Created during a real match by 9-dan Mi Yuting, this sequence had once caught fire across the Go community after it proved highly effective. Even AI programs started learning and using it.
In Jing Yu's past world, it became one of the three "Ultra-Complex Joseki," alongside:
The Great Avalanche
The Magic Sword
The Large Diagonal
The Flying Dagger matched them in complexity.
Despite centuries of research, those joseki still evolved with new ideas. That's how deep they were.
Many top pros had fallen to this variation—including Ke Jie, the former world number one, even after studying it for months.
Now, Su Lin—who had only studied the 3-3 for a few hours—fell right into the trap.
He'd tried to stop the bleeding, but the damage was done.
Jing Yu had secured a powerful outer structure in the upper left.
The game wasn't over, and Su Lin hadn't lost yet, but the win probability had shifted hard.
From 50-50 to 70-30.
"I'm speechless… that sacrifice move? Genius."
"A divine hand. I've got goosebumps."
"I really need to pee, but I can't leave now!"
"Go, Jing Yu!!"
"After today, the 3-3 invasion is going to explode in the Great Zhou Go scene."
"New horizons have opened. Sure, Su Lin lost the upper-left fight, but this new variation has limitless potential. His loss doesn't prove the move is flawed—he just handled it poorly."
"I never thought an amateur screenwriter could hold his own against top-tier pros. Insane."
"Jing Yu IS Sai! He IS!"
"Some people may look like TV writers… but are actually the reincarnated spirits of ancient Go gods."
"Could be! Maybe he is a reincarnated Go master. That would explain his insane solo discoveries."
"Then tell me how a 1,000-year-old 'Hikaru no Go' ends up writing White Album 2 and making me cry over the line, 'Why are you so good at this?!' Does that fit?"
"Here we go again. 'Hikaru no Go' fans are losing their minds as usual."
In the remaining three corners, Su Lin no longer dared to mess with the 3-3.
Even when Jing Yu placed star points, Su Lin avoided engaging with that variation.
They played more conventional shapes, and while those regions saw intense battles, they were understandable—unlike the chaos in the upper-left.
Right side, lower-left, lower-right, center...
All were evenly matched.
But the upper-left?
That was the difference.
Two hours passed. Neither side had finished.
The game entered 30-second byoyomi—sudden death time control.
Both players raced through endgame sequences.
And then… all territories were filled.
A breeze drifted into the room from the window.
Su Lin looked at the board, his face tinged with melancholy. He sighed deeply.
"I lost."
By six stones. A significant gap at this level.
What he had thought would be an easy amateur exhibition had turned into a stunning upset.
When the result was announced, the crowd inside the venue and viewers at home erupted in celebration.
In the professional group chat, though some regretted the outcome, no one blamed Zhou Zhengguang or Su Lin for "losing face."
This screenwriter named Jing Yu… was just too strong.
Even if they'd played instead, many believed they would've lost too. His calculations were monstrous.
Especially that sacrificial move—so clever, so effective. None of them could've come up with it on such short notice.
Jing Yu had reached the finals.
And his final opponent had long since been decided:
After a grueling match, winning by just one stone, the victor was...
Li Le—the 'Hikaru no Go' drama's official Go advisor, a professional 5-dan who had lost fourteen straight matches to Jing Yu during filming.
Now watching from the observation room…
His face was pale.
His eyes were filled with despair.