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"Xiao Guang, there is something I need to tell you."
"Go ahead," Shi Guang says.
"I might be disappearing soon."
"Not that again," Shi Guang groans. "I told you that won't work. I don't—" believe you, he is about to say. But the words catch in his throat.
Mid-afternoon light streams through the attic window, illuminating the weiqi board: a neat 19x19 grid, the surface faded from light and worn from age. In one corner, Bai Ziqiu's bloodstain, visible to all; next to it, an anonymous tear stain, visible to only one.
I'm tired. Let's talk tomorrow.
No, we're running out of time. What if I'm no longer around one day?
If one day I'm gone, will you still like Go?
I'm afraid I'll not be able to watch you play as the lead.
I'm afraid that when I'm gone, you'll make the same mistakes again.
There is a sort of silence native to places that hold old things. Lazy Monk's library contains books and scrolls, the Mystery Go Room hosts longstanding rituals and traditions, and Grandpa's attic holds personal effects, antiques only by virtue of their age. Such spaces are left undisturbed to their dark and quiet rest, until someone opens the door and lets in the light and sound of the raucous world outside.
Once, Chu Ying said, I spent a thousand years playing Go with myself in my own mind.
"You're finally taking this seriously?" Chu Ying observes.
Shi Guang nods. "Mum works in an emergency room. That's the exact way she delivers bad news. So, yes, I'm taking this seriously." Then, "How long?"
"A couple weeks," Chu Ying says. "About the time Yu Xiaoyang announced his retirement and you went to the hospital to see him."
"I mean, how long do you have?"
"You make it sound as if I'm on my deathbed," Chu Ying murmurs. Then, louder, "I don't know. I feel time flowing away from me, like sand through an hourglass. But I'm not sure how much is left."
Voices drift from downstairs: Grandpa loudly protesting something, Mum calling for Shi Guang, a car door slamming shut as the engine revs. The policemen must have finished taking statements and are taking their leave.
"—Don't think too much about it. I just thought that you should know," Chu Ying says gently. "It's getting late. Come on, let's go check on how Grandpa is doing."
"Yeah, okay," Shi Guang says. He goes back to the board and runs one hand over the fading tear stain. His fingers come away dry, just as they had when he was nine years old. "Alright, let's go," he says, and heads for the stairs; Chu Ying follows him, leaving the attic and the Go board behind.
That night, Chu Ying hovers behind Shi Guang, who is hunched over a game record sheet, taking notes by the light of his desk lamp. "Is it bothering you a lot?"
Shi Guang glances up. "What?" he says, feigning nonchalance.
"After dinner you turned down Hong He's invitation to the arcade, came straight home, and started annotating that game record. I didn't even have to remind you to study. So, is something on your mind?"
"Nothing of the sort. I just realized your nagging is right and I need to work harder, that's all. Besides, why are you complaining? Shouldn't you be happy I'm being diligent for once?"
"It's out of character," Chu Ying observes. "Go players each have their own playstyle, just as people each have their own personalities. If you're acting odd, of course I'll notice." Then, more quietly, "Is it about what I said this afternoon?"
A pause. "Okay." Shi Guang puts down the pen and turns his chair around to face Chu Ying properly. "You're right. I've been thinking about what you said this afternoon. If you're not sure how much sand is left in the hourglass, then I think it's very important to not let even a single grain slip away."
Shi Guang picks up the game record sheet and holds it out. There are no circles marking the intersections; instead the grid is filled with a numbered list, scrawled messily in black gel ink. "Do you remember that idiom from English class, 'bucket list'? Since you can't hold a pen, I went ahead and wrote one for you. Tonight, look it over while I'm sleeping, and tell me your thoughts tomorrow. I'll be travelling all day tomorrow to get to the match with Wei Da G.C. in the evening, so I'll fix it up while I'm on the bus. If everything looks fine to you, once I get back, we'll start. Okay?"
"Shi Guang."
"Mm?"
"You don't have to do this," Chu Ying says gently. "We had an agreement. I teach you Go, and you live your life. Where that path leads is your choice. Most of all, you don't owe me anything."
"That's exactly it, isn't it?" Shi Guang says, trying for levity, but there's a tremor in his voice. "I still have the rest of my life. I thought you'd have the rest of my life, too, but you don't. So, tomorrow, we'll start with the most important thing, making the list. The day after tomorrow, we'll start working on it. And the day after that and after that, until you've seen all the people you want to see, done everything you want to do, and gone to all the places you want to go."
Or until there aren't any more tomorrows, but he staunchly refuses to say it.
1. About the Hand of God
On weekdays, when Yu Liang gets home from training, he stops by the front gate to pick up the mail. As he walks through the garden he sorts them into piles: for Dad, for Mum, for me, and junk. Today, he finds among the letters an envelope without a street address or postmark, addressed just to Teacher Yu. He considers putting it into the junk pile, then instead places it with the mail for Dad. It isn't his decision to make.
He doesn't think more about it until later that evening, when Dad calls him into the study and asks if he can help with Wei Da's new match scheduling option. He clicks through the calendar on Yu Xiaoyang's account and sets the time zone and weekly availability, then asks, "Dad, are you arranging a match with someone?"
"Yes. You might have heard of him. His name is Chu Ying."
Yu Liang nods. "I played against him before, also here on Wei Da.“
"It's interesting you mention that. He remembers you, too." Yu Xiaoyang slides the letter over and taps a paragraph in the middle.
... your son, Yu Liang. I remember and value the several games I have played with him, and so I would like to extend him the same invitation, at his leisure, should he choose to accept. Consider it my thanks for accepting the date and time I set last time.
Two things occur to Yu Liang at the same time: Firstly: the letter is courteous, but the handwriting looks nothing like he'd expect from a Go grandmaster. Secondly: Several?
Several could mean two: the first, aborted game, and then the game on the day of the grading tournament, that Yu Liang resigned knowing he would lose. But something about the wording sticks, just like that encounter at the Black and White Go Club nine years ago.
Perhaps noticing his preoccupation, Yu Xiaoyang asks, "Yu Liang, what do you think of this person?"
Yu Liang considers. "A formidable player, but you already know that. Dad, since you consider him a worthy opponent, I don't understand why he's extending this invitation to me. If he's looking for more opponents through you, surely there are other masters who are on his level."
"He said it himself, didn't he? You left an impression," Yu Xiaoyang says. "Maybe he is looking, not for a worthy opponent or the Hand of God, but just to have a conversation?"
Sunday 4 p.m. in the internet cafe, at the usual terminal in the furthermost row, Shi Guang squints at the completed game record on the screen. "Wow, Chu Ying, you're slipping. Both of you. If this is the level of Go you play with the world champion, you'll never find the Hand of God at this rate." Something occurs to him. "Wait, Teacher Yu isn't getting sick again, is he?"
"Nothing of the sort, and don't curse him." Chu Ying swats Shi Guang insubstantially on the shoulder. "Besides, is it so bad not to find it, when neither of us were actually looking? You could tell, couldn't you? That this was a friendly game between old fogeys to pass the time. Just like your grandpa plays at Zhongshan Park."
"That's just as well," Shi Guang says thoughtfully. "Teacher Yu is retired, and you shouldn't be pushing yourself, so there's no need to fight to the death to win. Besides, no one said the Hand of God has to appear in a competitive game, right?"
"To be honest, finding the Hand of God isn't that important to me any more," Chu Ying says breezily.
"Wait, what? Is that a reverse psychology tactic? If you tell yourself it doesn't matter, it'll come to you of its own accord?" Shi Guang continues, "Actually, there's something else I've been curious about. Inviting Teacher Yu to a game, I understand. It's not often someone like you meets their match. But why Yu Liang?"
"Xiao Liang and I have some unfinished business, don't we?" Chu Ying says. "I played three games with him under circumstances he doesn't understand, and he's been looking for an explanation, hasn't he?"
Shi Guang whirls around so fast he nearly falls off the chair. "You told him?!"
Chu Ying blinks. "Xiao Guang, you play this game for a living. Do you honestly, sincerely think Go technique has evolved to the point it can be used for communication that complex?"
Shi Guang mutters, "You and he are both such Go-obsessed blockheads, I wouldn't put it past either of you."
"Relax. Xiao Liang doesn't know," Chu Ying says. "What happened at the Black and White Go Club that day—is up to you to tell, when and if you choose to. What I played with Xiao Liang was another teaching game. He, too, has come very far from where he was nine years ago, you know. I arranged this game to show him that." He continues, perfectly, straight-faced, "And also to show him that I, who played those games, am not you."
Shi Guang groans. "In other words, you're leaving me holding the bag. Now that guy's never going to let it go, and I'm the one who's stuck with him, you know."
"Then you might as well start thinking about how best to explain yourself?" Chu Ying says, a twinkle of amusement in his eye.
2. About playing more Go
Wu Di's voice, tinny over the bad phone connection: "It's a classic graph theory problem called the traveling salesman. Since you have this list of coordinates you want to visit, and you know the bus lines that will take you to all of them, I should be able to put in the details, run the algorithm, and find a route for you to see them all. I can't guarantee that it's the fastest or cheapest possible one, but..."
"Good enough is fine," Shi Guang reassures. “I just need it quickly."
He can almost see Wu Di nodding. "In that case, I can get it to you tomorrow."
Shi Guang shoots Chu Ying a thumbs-up and falls backwards onto his bed. ”Thanks, Wu Di. Lunchtime, usual place, pizza is my treat."
The next day, Wu Di strides in through the door of the pizza house, pulls out the chair opposite Shi Guang, and sits down primly with a folded sheet in hand and the stiff determination of a man about to do something very, very uncomfortable. "Shi Guang, I'm sorry, but I looked up the coordinates."
Chu Ying, in the neighbouring seat, stage-whispers, "There, we're done for. I told you to come clean."
"Oh, stuff it. —No, Wu Di, I didn't mean you, carry on."
"Shi Guang, why do you need to visit such places for? A lumber processing plant on that side of the city, a basement tea house that fronts for a mahjong cafe, and even a bathhouse in that district?" A pause, then Wu Di continues hesitantly, "Shi Guang, you know that if you're in trouble, you can tell me, right? We're friends. I'll do everything I can to help."
Shi Guang buries his face in his hands. "It's nothing like that, and it's nothing illegal, I promise. Just give it to me."
Wu Di clutches the paper close. "No, I'm not giving this to you until you tell me what you're going to do."
"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."
"Try me."
"I'm going to play go."
Wu Di blinks. Opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "You're right, I don't believe you."
"I really am going to play go," Shi Guang says. "All these are places where strong players work, and in their spare time, sometimes they play go. Now that I'm at Fangyuan Jiantou, I don't have time to run all over town, which is why I need your help. If you want proof, Gu Yu can vouch that these places are legit, but he still isn't talking to me, so—" Shi Guang opens his phone and holds it out. "You'll have to ask him yourself."
Wu Di doesn't take it. "It's not that I don't trust you. It's just hard to believe, you know."
"If you only knew the half of it." Shi Guang shakes his head. "At any rate, believe it or not, that's up to you. But it's the truth."
Shi Guang holds out one hand with a beseeching look. Wu Di shakes his head, seems to deflate, and hands the paper to him.
3. About your reputation
In the library atop Lan Yin Temple, Lazy Monk eyes the boy who has barged into his library and disturbed his afternoon rest for the third time in less than a year. "Yes, the wager for the book is still on," he says. "But you've never managed before, so why do you think this time will be different?"
"This time, it's not me who'll play," Shi Guang says. "My friend will. But he can't come in person, so I'll play by proxy and relay the moves by phone."
Lazy Monk looks from Shi Guang to something behind him, and after a long moment he shrugs. "All right. It's about time, anyway. Grab the stone containers."
Shi Guang pauses mid-fake-dial and glances up from his phone. "About time for what?"
Lazy Monk waves a hand. "Nothing. Are you playing or not?"
"Of course I am. But I'll tell you now that my friend is the best Go player in a millennium and a half and you don't stand a chance."
Lazy Monk laughs, looks straight past him directly at Chu Ying and says, "Then tell him that I look forward to it."
Midafternoon, the sun is high in the sky, but with the doors shut the interior of the library is dark. While Shi Guang retrieves the board and stones, Lazy Monk lights the lamps one by one. Shi Guang opens the stone container and grasps a handful. "Let's begin."
An hour and a half later, when Chu Ying playing white has won by a margin of seven and a half points, Lazy Monk looks up, past Shi Guang and directly at him. "I've lost."
Chu Ying bows. "You played well."
Lazy Monk stands, returns the gesture, and goes to fetch the book. "Take it," he tells Shi Guang. "Although I'll tell you now, boy: there was nothing of value to be found the first time you looked at that book, and there still isn't."
"Don't worry about that." Shi Guang takes the book and tucks it carefully into his backpack. He puts away the board and stones while Lazy Monk goes back to his nap.
On his way out the door, Lazy Monk calls out without opening his eyes, "By the way, you do know there's no cell signal all the way up here, right?"
At the bus stop at the base of the mountain, Shi Guang checks the posted schedule, and then his watch. Chu Ying asks, "Shi Guang, what are you going to do with the book?"
"I haven't thought that far ahead," Shi Guang admits. "But I promised I'd return what history took from you. This game record is proof that you lived and played Go in Southern Liang. Even if I don't know what to do with it yet, it's important that we get it back while we still have the chance."
The late afternoon air is stagnant with summer heat as Shi Guang huddles in the bus stop's paltry shade. A bird calls from the canopy overhead.
"Xiao Guang," Chu Ying says quietly. "History has already erased my name. Time can't turn back. As for me, you know I exist. That's enough."
"And when I'm gone, too? Who will remember you then?" Shi Guang says, voice breaking on the last word despite himself. "Or will you go back to the darkness, and spend another thousand years playing go with yourself in your own head, until the next me comes along for you to possess?"
There will not be anyone else, because the tear stain is gone from the Go board. There will never again be anyone else who will see the mark of sorrow and open their heart for a spirit to live in.
"There is something else I consider far more important," Chu Ying continues. "Do you remember how the monks at Lan Yin Temple light their lamps at dusk? One lamp lights the next, and the next will light another. In that way, they will never go out. Go is like that fire, passed from one person and one generation to the next. People have played Go for millennia, and two thousand years from now, they still will." The words are soft yet resonant in the silence. "My life, as just one Go player, is nothing compared to that."
In the distance, an engine rumbles. Shi Guang jumps to his feet to flag down the bus. As he drops the fare into the collection box, the driver regards him with concern. "Little boy, are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Just allergies," Shi Guang says, waving a tissue packet to stave off further questions as he looks for a seat.
Atop Mt. Wulu, across the carved Go board beneath the apricot tree, Shi Guang places two stones on the edge of the board and says, "You win."
"You played well," Chu Ying says.
Shi Guang stretches, clears the stones from the board, then goes to sit down at the base of the tree where the shade is heaviest. "Thank you, Master Chu. I'm beat." He pats the tree trunk. "Also, good thinking, planting this."
"Several hundred years later, it's serving its purpose," Chu Ying agrees happily.
"And I didn't get lost this time! Thanks to this map, and the telephone booth. It's actually a useful waypoint." Shi Guang pillows his head on his hands and closes his eyes. "So, Master Chu... you've routed the Four Masters of Fangyuan City, including the newly crowned Meijin, Fang Xu. You've played your fill of Go with players from all walks of life. We've visited the Black and White Go Club and the Mystery Go Room. Now, we've played a few games of Go under this tree. Since Xiao Bai Long isn't here, you'll have to make do with me." He opens his eyes and looks over at Chu Ying. "So, now that I've done all these things for you... is it your turn to do something for me?"
"What is it?"
Shi Guang sits up straight and continues, "When you disappeared from Wei Da without a word, you made a lot of people sad, you know. People who liked watching your games, players who wanted to challenge you to a match, and fans of your blog of life-and-death problems. People like Wu Di and Hong He who really look up to you. I think you should at least say a proper goodbye, and leave them something to remember you by. So as to leave no regrets."
Chu Ying thinks about that, then nods. "I agree. Then let's go.
Several hours of answering messages at the internet cafe later, Shi Guang puts up a cheery farewell message declaring the life-death problems blog permanently closed. Then they turn to the matter of the Wei Da account, which has accumulated hundreds of match requests, most long expired. As Shi Guang clears out the inbox, Chu Ying says, "If we want to make a clean break, then we should delete it."
Shi Guang shakes his head. "You said before that you're fine with the world not knowing your name. But I've been thinking about it, and I'm not fine with it. I think you've been shortchanged. I don't know yet how to make things right, but I'm not going to just let it go. The game records on this account, like that record book, are proof that you once existed and played Go in Fangyuan City. So, please, leave it. For my sake."
"All right," Chu Ying says. "In that case, it's yours now. But before that, there's something I am curious about. What did you write in the account profile when you created it?"
Shi Guang pauses. Then he opens the account page and swivels the terminal around so Chu Ying can see the words he wrote two summers ago: You are my eyes.
"I mean it," Shi Guang says. "And I always will."
4. About leaving no regrets
Dusk on the day of the Dragon Boat Festival, at the playground, Shi Guang collapses into the swing. "I can't feel my legs."
"You did just bike for three hours straight," Chu Ying says.
"What else would I spend my day off on Dragon Boat Festival doing?" Shi Guang says, "But, really, it's fortunate that we came across that bicycle rental place today. That was the one thing I didn't know how to do for you, until now." He leans against the metal chain and tilts his head. "So, Master Chu... are you happy?"
"Of course. I'm the happiest I've been in a long, long time."
"Then... do you still have any unfulfilled wishes left?"
"None," Chu Ying says breezily. "Not even a single one."
"Really? I, Shi Guang, am completely at your disposal, you know. Take the chance while you can."
Chu Ying smiles and shakes his head. "Really, Xiao Guang, there's nothing. If we have to do something, then let's just sit out here. Feel the breeze and look at the view."
"The so-called view is of a playground, a street, and a row of shops, Master Chu. If you want scenery, we can go to Zhongshan Park. From the lookout over there, we can see all of Fangyuan City..."
"To be honest, I'm happy just spending time with you, Xiao Guang."
"Well, who else would you spend it with?" Shi Guang digs his feet into the soft sand and pushes off. The swing creaks: back, forth, back, forth, slowly gaining altitude. "That's the most unbelievable thing about all of this, you know? The God of Go, who has played for a millennium and a half and is undefeated playing black, is a person like you. He gets excited about household appliances, he cries at soap dramas, and he asks me inane questions like whether I'd save him or Yu Liang, if both of you fell in the water. He likes pretending to ride a bicycle even though it can't actually move him, he chides me for not caring about his feelings, and he asks if I'm happy he's back."
On the downswing, Shi Guang drops his feet to the sand and drags until the swing comes to a stop. He looks up at Chu Ying. "I was, you know. The lake was freezing, and I thought I was going to drown, or die from hypothermia, but none of that mattered, because I was so happy to see you again.
"And after you came back, although six whole years had passed... I started to really believe that you would always be there, you know? That no matter who left, you wouldn't. Dad's been gone since before I could remember. Wu Di was the first person I met whose passion was Go, but he had to give it up to focus on studying. He Jiajia left, after not even a year, to take the university exams. Jiang Xueming and Gu Yu stayed with the school club while I went to Yijianghu. Shen Yilang went to Japan, and Bai Xiaoxiao went to university. Only you were with me every step of the way. I'm used to having you at my back, helping me make plans and decide things. So when you're not there, either, what am I going to do?"
Night has almost fully fallen; the last remnants of dusk are a red glow over the trees in the distance. The streetlamp by the playground has come on; in its pale light, Chu Ying's translucent profile casts no shadow. Black hat, white robe, not like a ghost, but like a beacon in the deep night. "Even when I am no longer in this world, I will still be with you," Chu Ying says softly. "The proof of my existence is within your memory, and in the Go you play. In every move you think of, and every stone you place, I am there. I will always be with you."
Shi Guang nods, once; takes a deep breath, and blinks away the tears. "Then I'll hold you to that, Chu Ying. I'll hold you to that."
"It's getting late, Xiao Guang," Chu Ying says. "Maybe we should go home."
"No, not yet," Shi Guang says. "I'd like to stay out here for a while more. I'm worried, you know? That you'll disappear while I'm sleeping and I won't even know." He jumps off the swing and starts walking. "This late, we won't find anyone in the park to play go with, but the internet cafe is open all night, and Wei Da never sleeps."
Late evening, the buses through Fangyuan City are nearly empty. At the edge of Zhongshan Park, just outside the internet cafe, Chu Ying stops by the curb and looks out over the road. "Some time ago, at this same place, I once said that a true Go player would not have room for anything else in his heart."
"I remember," Shi Guang says, shaking his head. "You also said I let you down, when I said I wasn't sure I wanted to dedicate my life to Go."
Chu Ying continues, "But I remember that at that time, the person who heard me then replied, 'Then his Go must be so cold.'"
A thousand and five hundred years ago, when Chu Ying stood on the cliff next to his board and looked out over the storming sky, the rushing river underfoot had drowned out all other sound. But the internet cafe is far inland, and the only sounds are insects calling from the trees, the occasional rush of a passing car, and the night wind. Chu Ying continues, "So, I would like to ask that person now, what does he think of my Go?"
"Your Go isn't cold at all," Shi Guang says. "You're the best player I know. You're the best player in the world. There's so much you haven't taught me, and there's so much I still have to learn from you, so why..." He reaches out for Chu Ying's arm; his fingers pass through the translucent white sleeve and close on thin air, but he holds on anyway. "Why do you have to—"
"Shi Guang," Chu Ying says gently. "What you said that day was right. You live a life with Go, not a life of Go. From the beginning, you and I both knew that one day, you will play on your own."
"I picked up the stones in the first place because of you."
"But now, there are other reasons for you to hold on to them, aren't there? Somewhere, under this same sky, someone else is working just as hard as you are. Chu Ying must leave, but you have a future, and infinite possibilities."
"Then what about your Go?" Shi Guang's voice breaks; he doesn't care. "What about the Hand of God you've been looking for for a thousand years?"
"I have already found it," Chu Ying says. "I was fortunate enough to meet you, and walk with you through these years. That is the greatest fortune I could have hoped for in these three lifetimes." He closes his eyes. The sands of time, by now, are down to their last grains; they slow, and slow, and finally stop. "Shi Guang, you said that even if I'm gone, you'll still like Go. So I'll hold you to that."
The proof of my existence is within your memory, and in the Go you play. "I'll never stop. I'll keep playing for as long as I live, so you have to stay with me until then, Chu Ying. You have to stay—with—me—"
From the open door of the corner store, the siren of an emergency broadcast blares from the radio, followed by static. This is the National Weather Service. A once-in-a-lifetime celestial phenomenon known as a supernova is occurring tonight. Please return indoors, close all windows and doors, and draw the blinds. Do not look at the sky.
"Close your eyes," Chu Ying says softly. He bends down and passes an immaterial hand over Shi Guang's eyes; he shuts them obligingly, but the tears don't stop. "Don't look. It'll be very bright."
Remember, do not look at the light directly. Do not look at the light...
Someone is shaking his shoulder. "Excuse me, are you okay? You weren't looking at the supernova, were you? You shouldn't have been out here at all."
"I'm fine," Shi Guang says, and opens his eyes. Immediately they begin to sting in the cold night air. He looks up at the concerned stranger - Miss Gu, the receptionist at the internet cafe, a stranger he only knows by name from having crossed paths many times. Unknowingly, she occupies the silent space where someone once was, and will never be again. He shakes his head, passes a hand over his eyes to clear away the tears, then makes himself smile. "It's all right," he says. "I had to be here. Once in a lifetime, you know? Even if you don't see it, it's there. It always will be." Overhead, the moon is silent in the sky; he turns his face to that gentle silver light, and closes his eyes again. "So I'll hold you to that, Chu Ying."