Time ticked away, second by second.
"What is Yu Shao thinking?"
At the referee’s table, Wu Zhixuan gazed at him with concern.
"What kind of move is he planning?"
This wasn’t a difficult position. At a glance, Black had plenty of reasonable options—each with its own strategic value. It wasn’t as if Yu Shao was unsure of what to play.
And since Kong Zi was playing the next Black move, it didn’t make much sense for Yu Shao to overthink this position.
Yet, he had fallen into a deep thought.
Time continued to pass.
But Yu Shao still hadn't made his move.
It wasn’t just Wu Zhixuan wondering.
Every single person watching this match—every viewer, every professional, every rival, every fan—was equally confused.
Yu Shao closed his eyes as he visualized the board.
After carefully calculating all variations, he was certain—the move he wanted to play should be sound.
"This game… a lot of people will be watching."
"Of course, that includes Su Yiming. He’s definitely paying attention to this match..."
After a brief pause, Yu Shao’s eyes snapped open.
His gaze was sharp—like a blade reflecting light.
"Then—watch closely!"
Finally, he reached into the Go bowl.
The subtle sound of clinking stones echoed as he picked up a single piece.
Under the eyes of the world—
His hand descended onto the board!
"A move from the future!"
Row 3, Column 17—3-3 Invasion!
And the entire Handtalk Room fell into absolute silence.
Fang Haoxin, who had already reached for a stone to play next, froze.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
And the entire world stood still.
This move defied time.
It was a move that came from the future.
In the Analysis Room—
Everyone watching the TV screen sat in stunned silence.
Just moments ago, the room had been filled with heated discussion.
The moment that move landed, all voices vanished.
The entire room was dead silent.
After what felt like an eternity, someone finally swallowed dryly and stammered,
Every person in the room was frozen—staring at the screen with shocked expressions.
Their lips parted as if trying to say something—
But no words came out.
They knew what this move was.
It was simple—just a 3-3 invasion.
But even though they saw it with their own eyes—
They couldn't believe it.
3-3 invasions had existed for centuries.
But it was a move used only in specific situations.
Traditionally, it was only played when the opponent had an extremely strong outside influence—never in an open board position .
To play 3-3 this early in the game—
Jiang Xiahua sat frozen, his mouth hanging open.
It was as if time had stopped for him.
Even Zheng Qin, who usually remained composed, was now staring at the screen, drenched in sweat.
"He really played it…!"
"But this time… he’s facing Zhuang Weisheng!"
In his mind, flashes of a memory surfaced—
At Mountain-Sea Chess Hall.
The two games he had played against Yu Shao.
And the two 3-3 invasions Yu Shao had played back then.
Now, even under the watchful eyes of the world…
Yu Shao played the same move as he had one year ago.
The livestream showed Yu Shao finally placing his stone after a long thought.
And when Su Yiming saw the move—
For the first time, his calm demeanor cracked.
His body leaned forward instinctively.
"After such a long thought…"
Su Yiming took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
He stared at the screen, unblinking.
Trying to understand the deeper meaning behind this move.
Because this was still the opening stage.
After a simple joseki played out in the upper-right corner, Black had suddenly invaded 3-3.
There was no clear purpose behind it.
It wasn’t some brilliant global strategy or a deeply calculated trap.
A move that shouldn’t exist here.
Su Yiming didn’t believe Yu Shao would play a meaningless move.
"Why would he play 3-3 here?"
"What is Yu Shao… planning?"
It wasn’t just the Handtalk Room.
Or the Analysis Room.
At this moment, every person watching was stunned by this move.
And in the livestream chat—
"Maybe he meant to play a diagonal approach and misplaced it?"
"This isn’t online Go, idiot! There’s no misclicking in real life!"
"But if it wasn’t a mistake… then WHY???"
"Is this guy actually a pro? Even I know you don’t play 3-3 this early!"
"HOW did he even become a professional?!"
"Just moments ago, his moves were solid. He even played that large knight enclosure—so why this?"
"I can’t understand it… This doesn’t make sense…!"
The chat flooded with messages, completely overwhelmed with question marks and confusion.
Inside the Handtalk Room—
The silence hung heavy in the air.
Fang Haoxin still hadn’t moved.
Zhuang Weisheng’s expression remained unreadable.
He let out a deep laugh.
Then, his eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Now… this is interesting!"
Wu Zhixuan stared at the board, momentarily forgetting to record the moves.
Her delicate features were filled with pure disbelief.
Across from Yu Shao, Fang Haoxin remained frozen, still not making his move.
Next to Yu Shao, Kong Zi gazed at the board, his expression reflecting a crisis of faith.
Even the usually composed Zhuang Weisheng furrowed his brows, staring intently at the board.
After a long silence, Fang Haoxin finally forced himself to snap out of it.
He glanced at Yu Shao, shook off the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind, and took a deep breath before placing his move.
Row 5, Column 17—Block!
Then, it was Kong Zi’s turn.
Kong Zi stared at the board, silent.
He was having a full-on existential crisis.
"What the hell is this 3-3?"
"What the hell is he trying to do?!"
Just moments ago, the game had been fast-paced, intense, and relentless.
Each of the four players had been playing at a breakneck speed, giving their opponents no breathing room.
Ever since Yu Shao’s long thought led to this 3-3 invasion—
Both Fang Haoxin and Kong Zi had been thrown into deep contemplation.
The entire rhythm of the match had changed.
After what felt like an eternity, Kong Zi finally sighed, as if resigning himself to fate.
With noticeably less energy, he reached into the Go bowl and placed his move.
This time, his stone didn’t land with the same force as before.
Instead, it fell softly onto the board.
Row 3, Column 16—Extend.
In reality, after a 3-3 invasion, White blocking and Black extending were standard follow-ups.
There was no need to overthink it.
But clearly, both Fang Haoxin and Kong Zi were no longer just thinking about the board position.
"Why did Yu Shao play 3-3?"
Since they couldn’t figure it out, they simply followed the standard joseki.
Now, it was Zhuang Weisheng’s turn.
His brows remained tightly knitted.
Unlike Fang Haoxin and Kong Zi, he didn’t take long to move.
Reaching into the Go bowl, he quickly placed his stone.
Row 3, Column 15—Hane.
Another natural response.
Once again, it was Yu Shao’s turn.
He gazed at the board, then calmly picked up a stone.
Row 2, Column 15—Hane!
This was still part of the expected sequence.
After White hanes, Black must respond by counter-haning.
Seeing Yu Shao’s move, Fang Haoxin followed suit.
Row 3, Column 14—Extend.
Then, it was Kong Zi’s turn.
"If this brat were my disciple, I’d beat him to death."
Kong Zi cursed internally.
His usual aggressive energy was nowhere to be seen.
With zero enthusiasm, he lazily picked up a stone and placed it down.
Row 2, Column 14—Extend.
Then, it was Zhuang Weisheng’s turn.
His expression had returned to its usual calm.
He played without hesitation.
Row 3, Column 13—Extend.
So far, the game had followed the standard 3-3 joseki.
Neither side could deviate, or they would be punished.
If Yu Shao didn’t follow the standard sequence, his entire position would collapse instantly.
Now, it was Yu Shao’s turn again.
The expected move was obvious—Row 5, Column 18—Hane.
The correct move was clear.
There was only one move to play.
That’s what everyone thought.
A small clicking sound echoed.
Yu Shao had picked up a stone.
His gaze lowered slightly as he studied the board.
Then, with a steady hand, he placed his move.
Row 3, Column 4—Attach!
Kong Zi, who had zoned out from boredom, barely glanced at the board at first.
His peripheral vision noticed something strange.
Where was the move at Row 5, Column 18?
Kong Zi blinked, then scanned the board.
Across the board, Fang Haoxin had an identical reaction.
His mouth hung open in shock, as if he had just seen a ghost.
Seated beside him, even Zhuang Weisheng visibly flinched.
His usually stone-cold expression cracked—his face now clearly filled with disbelief.
A terrifying silence fell over the Handtalk Room.
The kind of silence that felt unnatural—almost frightening.
The livestream chat went completely insane.
"DID HE JUST… TENUKI?!"
"BRO, WHAT IS HE DOING?!"
"NO WAY. You do NOT tenuki in a 3-3 sequence. That’s suicide!"
"WHAT IS HE THINKING?!"
"I DON’T KNOW BUT I LOVE IT!"
The entire discussion room was frozen.
Not a single person spoke.
Not a single person moved.
Everyone simply stared at the screen, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.
Someone whispered, in a voice barely above a breath—
"Is… is this madness?"
"Or… is this genius?"