Chapter Text
Bai Chuan has a bone to pick with prodigies. It’s not so much about their achievements, but rather, their arrogance. Head held high, shoulders squared, they possess enough pride and presence to rival that of a pretentious prince. They’re often rich, and aggravatingly so. Children of the accomplished, sons of bitches. Sacrifice is not something they know intimately.
A future in Go is paved with passion and paid by privilege. It’s the first thing he learns about the game, right after how to capture stones. He is seventeen with full-load classes, a part-time job, and a younger sister to support—though gossiping aunties would love to say otherwise. See, unlike him, Bai Lu wants to go into medicine. (We can’t stay here forever, she told him once, while looking wistfully at the frayed couch their gtandmother had passed away on. Don’t worry, Ge. I’ll study hard for us.)
They say he’s good—that he can make a living off of Go as long as he doesn’t give up. He’s seventeen, and this is his second attempt at going professional. He’s ranked first at Sishou Go Academy: straight streaks, a force to be reckoned with. You’ll pass this time for sure, they tout. You’re our best.
But then, one spring day, he appears.
Charming, dressed to the nines. He introduces himself as Fang Xu, fourteen years young. He’s played on-and-off for two years now, and had decided—on a whim—that he’d try his hand at going pro. Xu’er joined us two weeks ago, the instructor tells them. Bai Chuan bites his tongue. It took him nine months to get into Class A.
Fang Xu recognizes him.
“Ah, Chuan-ge.” He takes a seat across from him and leans into the carefully laid stones. “You seem surprised to see me.”
Bai Chuan decides to be nice. They are in the same class, after all, and he was the one who taught Fang Xu how to play.
“You changed your mind,” he says.
“I was inspired.” Fang Xu cocks his head. His lips tug into a small smirk. “You wanted to go professional, but I won our third game, so I figured—how hard would it be? I can win a few titles, maybe get a magazine spread or two, centerfold, of course, and I’ll have you to thank in the end.”
The corner of his mouth twitches.
“Professional Go is not something you should take lightly. The masters in our community have dedicated their entire lives to the game.”
Fang Xu sits back, amusement still teasing his features. “My father gave me six months. Either I succeed here, or I pursue something more... reasonable.”
“You have no respect for Go.”
“Respect is earned.” He places a couple of stones on the board and keeps them covered. “I want to see how much I’ve improved.”
Bai Chuan sets a single stone down, and Fang Xu lifts his hand to reveal five. He takes the bowl with the black stones and clears off the board.
“You’re not the only one who has improved.”
Chk. 4-4, corner star.
Fang Xu plays tengen, center point, then peers up at him with a raised eyebrow.
Cheeky brat.
“Are you certain?” Bai Chuan asks.
“High risk, high reward.”
“Only if you’re victorious.” He sets another stone down.
Fang Xu counters immediately. “Chuan-ge, are you underestimating me? Just because I’m your junior, doesn’t mean I can’t be as good.”
“I don’t want to discourage you.”
At that, Fang Xu scoffs. “I haven’t lost once since I got here.”
“I’m honored to be your first, then.”
He attacks.
Once again, Fang Xu responds without much thought—almost as if he’d already predicted where Bai Chuan would lay his stone.
“Aren’t you going to ask how I found this place?”
He doesn’t answer. By the tone’s jest, he’s not entirely sure if he wants to know.
Fang Xu tells him anyway, “I asked Bai Lu.”
Now, that catches his attention.
“I wasn’t aware that the two of you were still in contact.”
He hums. “You should pay more attention to your little sister.”
Bai Chuan rolls the stone between his fingers. His eyes catch the boy’s devious ones. “What do you mean by that?”
A small smirk grazes Fang Xu’s lips once more as he plays the opposite corner. Formation break. Not a beginner’s move.
“You’re playing too carelessly.”
“I’m testing a theory.”
Bai Chuan tucks the stone into his palm. “There’s a difference between taking a calculated risk and playing blindly.”
“You don’t think I can win.”
“It would be difficult for you to maintain territory.”
Fang Xu nods once at the board. “Let’s find out, then.”
Chk. Extend.
Chk. Surround.
Chk. Defend.
Chk. Attack.
It’s an aggressive style of play—brash and bold. He has played over a hundred games and studied a thousand more, but neither opponent nor master have been this blatant. Fang Xu is making his intentions clear: he intends to dominate the entire board. It’s a method that flaunts an incredible margin of error. Prodigies and narcissists alike are the only ones willing to wield this double-edged sword.
Bai Chuan wins by seven points. To his surprise, Fang Xu is oddly delighted.
“Ah, as expected. Sishou’s First Seat is brilliant,” he drawls, as if they’re well acquainted. “I never thought you’d play the corner like this.”
“You should focus less on predicting your opponent’s next move, and more on the foundation of your formation.”
“Chuan-ge, how long have you played for?”
“Eight years.”
Fang Xu grins. “Nearly a decade, and you still don’t understand strategy.”
His brow knits.
The boy continues, “Before Go, I played chess. Different rules, same concept. Strategy isn’t just what happens on the board.” He taps his temple. “Most of it is up here.”
Bai Chuan gathers the stones, his fingers stiffened as he tries to quell the flame that flickers from within. “How long did you play chess for?”
“About three years, on-and-off.”
“You played for nearly three years against dignified opponents, I presume, and yet you were never taught basic etiquette.”
“Why do you sound so offended?” Fang Xu leans forward. “I wasn’t calling you stupid. You’re my first loss here. That’s something to celebrate.”
Bai Chuan puts the lid back on the black stones and sets it aside with a loud clatter. “If this is how you intend to behave, I won’t play you again.”
He stands abruptly and grabs his jacket—but before he can take his leave, Fang Xu catches his sleeve.
“Next time, I will win.”
Bai Chuan yanks his arm away. “Not a chance.”