By the time Yu Shao got home, it was already 9 PM.
Even though it was quite late and the night was deep, his parents hadn’t returned yet. The hotpot restaurant they ran together usually didn’t close until around 10 PM.
After washing his face in the bathroom, Yu Shao went to his bedroom, pulled out the four-legged Go table that Yu Dongming had bought for him a while ago, and took out his Go set to start replaying his game.
That last match of the day made Yu Shao feel the need to review and analyze the moves.
After all, he had gained a tremendous advantage right from the opening, yet he failed to seal the victory quickly. Instead, the game turned into a prolonged deadlock, which was hard for him to accept.
His attack-oriented play still had significant flaws, but ordinarily, most players wouldn’t have been able to withstand his assaults—especially when he had such a clear advantage.
Moreover, this was a blitz game. While he might not have made any outright blunders, he must have played a few slow moves here and there.
Yu Shao reached into the Go box, picked up a stone, and started placing black and white stones alternately on the board according to his memory. Before long, the entire game was replayed.
"This clamp... if I had extended instead, the efficiency would have been higher."
Yu Shao studied the board, his brows furrowed.
He did make some slow moves, but not too many. White also had a few slow moves, but seemingly fewer than him.
This result didn’t surprise him. White had paid the price by running out of time in the end. Time management was a fundamental skill for professional Go players, especially in blitz games.
Clearly, White lacked experience in blitz and had issues managing time, often overthinking in positions that didn’t require deep calculation.
In blitz, as long as you avoid obvious blunders, playing a few slow moves doesn’t really matter. Sometimes, when time is critically low, even a basic, conventional move is acceptable.
After all, with no time to find the absolute best move, you just have to play whatever comes to mind first—otherwise, you lose on time.
Even so, reviewing the game now, Yu Shao could still sense White’s exceptional skills in every single move after entering the midgame.
"Lacks theoretical knowledge on opening principles, weak understanding of thickness, and somewhat inefficient in play—these are common flaws among Go players in this world. But for him, it’s even more pronounced."
"However... his midgame strength is unbelievably strong. He always finds the most tenacious responses."
Yu Shao found this puzzling.
This world had a stronger Go culture than his past life, but how could an amateur player—someone who hadn’t undergone professional dojo training—possess such remarkable midgame skills?
Staring at the board, Yu Shao's frown deepened.
"Even if he trained in a dojo, without accumulating countless battles against top players in major tournaments, there's no way he could have such an outstanding ability to evaluate positions and such a sharp sense for local fights."
"This is simply unbelievable..."
Yu Shao exhaled deeply, his gaze flickering as he looked at the board.
"It seems I’ve underestimated the Go players of this world..."
"If even amateurs are this strong, then the professional scene... might be even more astonishing?"
"But that’s fine too."
Yu Shao reached into the Go box again, feeling the cool touch of the stones, and for a moment, it felt like he had returned to his past life.
"In this world, I can go even further. At sixteen, I can fix the flaws in my attack-oriented play!"
"If one day I reach the pinnacle in attacking as well... just how strong will my Go skills be then?"
"Looks like... I’ll have to walk the professional path all over again."
However, thinking about this, Yu Shao suddenly felt a headache coming on.
To become a professional Go player, he had to participate in the annual Go Promotion Tournament, where only a few spots for professional players were up for grabs each year.
And to even register for the Promotion Tournament, he needed to hold an amateur 5-dan or higher certification—unless he was a dojo trainee on the professional track.
His previous self didn’t even have an amateur rank, let alone a dan certificate. If he had to start from scratch by passing the amateur kyu exams and then gradually ranking up, it would be way too tedious.
As for joining a dojo? He wasn’t really interested. It didn’t seem necessary.
"Is there a way to fast-track to amateur 5-dan in this world?"
Placing the Go stone down, Yu Shao pulled out his phone from his pocket, opened WeChat, and quickly found Wu Zhixuan’s contact. He sent her a message.
[Fish Lacking Oxygen: Hey, Female Go Sage, are you asleep?]
Lately, Yu Shao had been chatting quite a bit with Wu Zhixuan.
Even though they weren’t exactly in the same circle, she was very active on social media, as if she couldn’t wait for the world to know what she was doing every day.
Unlike other girls, though, her posts weren’t filled with selfies. Instead, they were mostly pictures of her lunch or updates on her tournament results.
Whenever she won a game, she would post a little boastful status. Whenever she lost, she’d post something like "Keep going, you’re the best!" to encourage herself.
Despite being so young, Wu Zhixuan had already developed the social media habits of a middle-aged auntie.
Ever since Yu Shao received her signed photo half a month ago, he had made it a routine to comment on her posts whenever she won, asking how much longer until she reached 2-dan.
After all, she had promised him that every time she ranked up, she’d send him another signed photo.
She was quite the chatterbox, so their comment section exchanges often turned into mini debates, which would eventually transition into private chats.
Because of this, they had become quite familiar with each other.
Yu Shao knew her well—there was no way she was asleep at this hour.
Sure enough, moments later, Wu Zhixuan replied.
"Stop nagging me! If nothing unexpected happens, I just need two more wins to reach 2-dan!"
Clearly, she thought Yu Shao was asking about her promotion again.
Yu Shao quickly sent a pitiful emoji, then typed, "No, it’s not about that. I wanted to ask if you know any way to fast-track through the amateur ranks?"
Almost immediately, Wu Zhixuan sent back a "Black Guy Question Mark" meme and typed, "Wait... you don’t even have an amateur rank yet?!"
"Nope, I’ve never even taken the kyu exams," Yu Shao replied honestly. "So I was wondering if there’s a way to rank up quickly."
"What the heck? If you reach amateur 5-dan, you even get bonus points for your high school and college entrance exams! No way you only started playing in high school, right?" Wu Zhixuan asked.
Yu Shao wasn’t sure how to respond. After all, his past self didn’t even know the rules of Go.
But Wu Zhixuan didn’t dwell on the topic. Instead, she quickly typed, "I think you have to rank up step by step. There’s no way to skip ranks. ?"
Seeing this message, Yu Shao’s eyelid twitched.
Though it seemed like a hassle, he could accept it.
After all, the Promotion Tournament was held once a year, and the current one had already started. That gave him a whole year to get ranked.