The Academy Wins Because of Sang Sang

The exclamation of the South Jin Go master also caused a stir outside the Autumn Pavilion.

Anyone who knows how to play Go, even if only superficially, has surely heard of Master Dongming. Around the Lanke Temple area, which has produced countless Go experts, he has been the only one recognized as the number one master of Wa Mountain for over a hundred years—even in the world, he is a top-tier figure.

When Master Dongming was a young monk, he displayed peerless wisdom in the Dao of Go, taking responsibility for guarding the final gate of the three Wa Mountain Go matches for over ten years. In his middle age, for unknown reasons, he suddenly vanished without a trace. It was said he had long since passed away, but in the hearts of the world's Go players, he remained the most legendary figure.

The South Jin Go master looked at the old monk in the pavilion. Thinking about how many Go players regarded this old monk as their ancestral master, his body couldn't stop trembling as he asked in a shaky voice, "You... you are still alive?"

The old monk looked at him with some surprise and said, "I didn't expect anyone in the world would still recognize me."

The South Jin Go master finally calmed down a bit and hurried to kneel on the prayer mat to pay his respects, saying reverently, "This student has seen the ancestral master's portrait in the Daoist hall since childhood, so I recognized you."

The old monk sighed and said, "Years ago when I traveled to South Jin, I played a match with little Zhu. I didn't expect him to actually remember all this time."

Hearing the master mention his own teacher, the South Jin Go master didn't dare interrupt, but he finally couldn't suppress the question in his heart and asked, "Master, why did you disappear for so many years?"

The old monk was silent for a moment before saying, "Many years ago, a youth came to Lanke Temple. His Go skill was startling, sweeping away all the monks in the temple. Therefore, I went down Wa Mountain to play three matches with him. The first two matches were tied, but in the third match, which was an endgame, he and I had a dispute over the calculation of a continuous ko."

"That youth was arrogant to the extreme; perhaps due to impatience, his words became increasingly unpleasant. At that time, for some reason, a thought of anger arose in me, and as if possessed, I struck him with a palm. The youth spat blood, cursed me for being shameless, and left in a huff. Later, when I sat quietly and reflected on that day, I discovered his calculation was the correct one, and I couldn't help but feel deep regret. Guided by Elder Qishan, I have since distanced myself from the Go board, living in seclusion and ignoring worldly affairs, using cultivation to dissolve the regret of that year."

The South Jin Go master was incredibly shocked upon hearing this. He prided himself on his extraordinary Go skills, and the Lanke match by the Tiger Leap Stream hadn't troubled him, but he absolutely did not think he could defeat Master Dongming at the board. Even with the opponent not touching a Go board for many years, he still didn't have any chance of victory. Yet, when Master Dongming was at the peak of his Go power in middle age, there was actually someone who could match him!

Who exactly was that youth back then?

The South Jin Go master secretly calculated the time, and a legendary name he most admired gradually surfaced in his mind. However, before Master Dongming, he naturally couldn't say that name out loud, so he asked instead, "Then why did the Master reappear this time to preside over the Wa Mountain Go match?"

The old monk looked quietly at the screen, saying nothing, but he had already given the answer. The person who could make an ancestral master of the Go world reappear in the mortal world was naturally Sang Sang.

...

The Go board was very large, and the Go pieces were also very large, requiring a specialized wooden fork to move the pieces to the desired positions. Ning Que wanted to help, but Sang Sang refused. Seeing her look of total concentration—to the point she actually forgot to cough and her spirit seemed even better—Ning Que felt relieved and focused on watching the situation on the board through the gap in the screen, even though he didn't understand it much.

The South Jin Go master could understand, but he was much quieter now than when he was by the Tiger Leap Stream. He was no longer jumping up and down but sat properly on the prayer mat, watching the pieces being placed in silence, appearing very well-behaved. He didn't think Sang Sang could defeat Master Dongming; he didn't even think there was a slight possibility. He thought today's match was more like an instructional match like the one he played with the Empress in the palace.

Because the Dao of Go is absolutely not just simple calculation; at the highest level, it requires wisdom, experience, and even elusive feelings. No matter how exquisite an endgame is, it is ultimately a dead thing; when playing, the person across the board is the living thing. Even if Sang Sang was a heavenly calculator who could use incredible calculation abilities to break the Lanke endgame, how could she calculate the thoughts in her opponent's heart, especially an unfathomably deep player like Master Dongming?

However, the development of the match was completely different from what the South Jin Go master imagined. On the large board in the Autumn Pavilion, the black and white pieces gradually increased, yet they maintained a state of balance. The South Jin Go master confirmed that it wasn't because Master Dongming's Go power had declined due to old age, because the white pieces were played even more exquisitely than the Go manuals he had seen in the Daoist hall. The opening configuration was like a divine antelope hanging its horns, leaving no trace to be found; it was truly a masterpiece of creation. How could such moves be calculated?

In such a situation, for the match to still maintain a balance, it only said one thing: Sang Sang, holding the black pieces, had a Go level that was not at all inferior to Master Dongming!

In the eyes of the South Jin Go master, the way the black pieces moved now was completely different from Master Dongming's path, relying purely on incredibly meticulous calculation. Meticulous to the extreme, there were no longer any flaws, and it actually gradually radiated a natural feeling as if created by heaven!

When the black pieces made their first move, they seemed to have already thought a hundred moves ahead. Those clues hidden within the misty Dao of Go were things ordinary people simply couldn't imagine. And what was even more astonishing was that the black pieces were so cold, heartless, and powerful in the struggle for territory in the mid-game, just like heavenly will descending upon the world!

When the South Jin Go master looked at Master Dongming's white pieces, he felt as if he were immersed in spring scenery, warm and beautiful, not wanting to wake up. When he looked at Sang Sang's black pieces, he felt as if he were before a winter waterfall, looking at the snow-covered cliffs splashing with icy water, feeling that beauty and pain with total clarity, wanting to leave but unable to bear it.

Sometimes warm as spring, sometimes cold as winter; sometimes on a lake, sometimes before a waterfall. This South Jin Go master, watching such a match, was truly joyful and refreshed to the extreme, like a cultivator who had eaten a Heaven-Reaching Pill. He felt his body become light, as if he could fly up to the pavilion at any moment; that beauty seemed not to belong to the mortal world!

During the process of moving his gaze between the black and white pieces, he would occasionally snap back to reality. Looking at the black pieces, he couldn't help but feel a bit of doubt, always feeling that this slaughtering Go style was somewhat familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before. He thought to himself that perhaps it was because he was shocked by Master Dongming's reappearance that his mind was a bit muddled; seeing something good made it look familiar, feeling he had seen it somewhere before, and then he forgot about it.

...

Within the Autumn Pavilion, the black and white pieces on the large board grew denser. The two colors on the board actually produced a feeling of mutual harmony and generation, appearing perfect and stable. The South Jin Go master stared dazed at the board, having long forgotten where he was. Though not a cultivator, he vaguely understood something.

Those who understood Go outside the Autumn Pavilion were no exception. The board in the pavilion was large enough for them to see clearly. However, in the quiet crowd at this moment, no one was paying attention to the details of this match anymore. They saw the rotation of night and day, saw dawn and dusk constantly revolving in this world, and then they heard the morning bell and the evening drum. Within that sound of bell and drum, a sense of peace and harmony gradually arose; where was there any heart left for winning or losing? The autumn wind blew softly, birds in the forest behind the pavilion chirped lightly, and winter insects fell silent. The South Jin Go master, at some point, found his eyes wet with tears.

...

An unknown amount of time passed.

"My only regret in life was not seeing Master Dongming and Master Song Qian play against each other. Seeing this match today with my own eyes, even if I die on the spot, I have no more regrets; the rest of my life is fulfilled."

The South Jin Go master performed a grand salute to the old monk, saying, "Thank you, Master." Then he turned and knelt toward the screen, saying sincerely, "Thank you, young lady, for letting me know that there truly are people in the world with innate wisdom. I have no right to be your teacher; I only wish to bow under your tutelage."

Sang Sang said somewhat bashfully, "I very rarely win in the mountains; how could I have the right to take a student?"

Hearing these words, the South Jin Go master's body shook slightly. Thinking about how he had felt the black pieces' Go style was familiar earlier, he couldn't help but think of an impossible possibility and asked in a shaky voice, "May I ask, young lady... did you learn Go from Master Song Qian?"

Sang Sang shook her head somewhat blankly. Ning Que frowned slightly, feeling that this name, though unfamiliar, indeed seemed to have been heard somewhere before.

The old monk looked at the screen and asked with concern, "Is Mr. Song at the Academy doing well?"

Hearing this, Ning Que finally remembered. Last year when the Academy's back mountain was distributing winter uniforms, Second Senior Brother's little page had reported a name, Song Qian. Wasn't that...

"Are you all talking about Fifth Senior Brother?"

Ning Que's voice traveled outside the pavilion, and the crowd broke into a shocked clamor. Only then did they know that the South Jin Go Saint—Master Song Qian—had actually been practicing on the second floor of the Academy all these years. They couldn't help but feel even more reverence and longing for the Academy.

The South Jin Go master seemed to have turned into an idiot, dazed for a long time before coming to his senses and shouting, "I want to go to the Academy! I want to go to the Academy! I want to go see Master Song Qian!"

Ning Que hadn't expected at all that Fifth Senior Brother at the Academy's back mountain—the one so obsessed with the Dao of Go that he often forgot to eat, with messy hair looking like a lunatic—actually had such a resounding reputation in the world. He couldn't help but be dazed.

...

The Go match in the Autumn Pavilion ended, and the situation on both sides was equal. No one could bear to break the perfect harmony of the black and white colors, feeling that even counting the pieces would be an insult. Therefore, no one counted, and naturally, there was no winner or loser.

Master Dongming's previous look of regret had vanished, and he seemed to have understood something. His gaze pierced through the screen to look at Sang Sang, and he said with a smile, "The division of black and white is originally determined by the heart's intent. If you want to choose black, it is black; if you want to choose white, it is white. It only depends on what you yourself think. Life and a Go match are no different."

Then he stood up, looked at the monk Guanhai and the Abbot of Lanke Temple outside the pavilion, and said slowly, "Since Junior Brother has sealed the Lanke match by the stream, then let my match here be sealed as well. If any guests want to come up the mountain, do not stop them."

The monk Guanhai was very surprised and asked in confusion, "Why is that?"

Master Dongming said, "To be able to play a match with such an opponent, to be able to play such a match, and then to have it be the final match of one's life—could there be a more perfect ending?"

Everyone outside the Autumn Pavilion was deeply shocked. Thinking about how the Lanke match by the stream was sealed, and the second match in the Autumn Pavilion had also become a final match, could it be that the legend of the three Wa Mountain Go matches has become a final echo today?

...

The black carriage slowly moved toward the mountain peak. Ning Que thought about the Go match in the Autumn Pavilion just now and finally couldn't help but ask, "Who actually won?"

Sang Sang said, "I probably won by a few pieces, but the black pieces already had an advantage."

Ning Que was stunned, then laughed loudly. Then he said with emotion, "No wonder Fifth Senior Brother said back then that the monks in Lanke Temple really know their stuff. You followed his Go manuals and won against that old monk today; it can be considered taking back the mouthful of blood that Senior Brother spat out years ago."

Dozens of days ago, at the Academy's back mountain, everyone saw Ning Que and Sang Sang off. At that time, Fifth Senior Brother looked at Sang Sang with a gentle expression and said, "Sang Sang's savvy in the Dao of Go far exceeds that of Junior Brother. The heavy responsibility of maintaining the Academy's title as the number one in Go under heaven... I leave it to you."

The Academy is number one under heaven, whether it be the Dao of Go, the Dao of the Zither, or the Dao of Calligraphy—all are number one under heaven. It's just that maintaining this title of number one under heaven is indeed not easy. But just as Fifth Senior Brother had earnestly hoped, today, Sang Sang had done it.