Chapter 106: The Green-Robed Go Saint, Crossing the River Bridge

You listened to a few people speak, and suddenly remembered the old man’s name.

Zou Lin, when he traveled north, once had a historian curse the current emperor.

The emperor flew into a rage, and an edict to execute nine clans was already drafted.

Zou Lin faced death with courage, his last words: “I have wronged my wife and daughter most in life.”

When you heard this in the north, you wrote a letter and sent it to the capital.

You did not send it to the palace, nor to Zou Lin.

You only sent it as an ordinary family letter to your mother in the capital, but left one final line in it.

“The north is cold and barren, with little entertainment; lately I’ve taken to the game of go. Please send me a copy of The Go Decisions to pass the time.”

The news spread!

The next day, every copy of that book in the capital sold out; even the printed paper was swept clean.

For a time, paper became precious in the capital.

The author of The Go Decisions was Zou Lin.

The edict to execute nine clans never reached beyond the palace gates; instead, it was changed to a verbal order demoting the official one rank, delivered to the Ministry of Rites.

In the end, Zou Lin resigned from office.

Before leaving, he went to the Lu residence and personally copied a copy of The Go Decisions for your mother.

You felt deeply moved—so many years had already passed.

Time gallops like a whip-lashed steed, stopping for no one!

The atmosphere inside the temple grew increasingly tense.

The old man and the green-robed Daoist began their game.

The old man moved first.

Yet almost the instant he placed his stone, the green-robed Daoist had already responded.

By the middle game, the old man often fell into long contemplation, brows furrowed, each move made with extreme caution.

Zou Shuning’s face began to show signs of anxiety; though the game was even, the green-robed Daoist played far too quickly.

Even his first-rank father had never put him under such pressure.

Play a few more stones.

Feng Long had already seen the trend—the situation was beginning to turn against the old man.

The others were growing frantic.

After dozens more moves, the old man’s face turned ashen, his hand trembling, the stone never falling.

The white stones had already severed the great dragon; only a few more moves remained to seal the win.

Defeat was certain.

The old man had played go his entire life, yet never faced such an opponent.

Some excel at the opening, others at the middle game, others at the endgame; mastering just two of these aspects makes one a first-rank player.

This man, with every stone, connects past and future, pressing with overwhelming momentum, leaving one gasping for breath.

If one word must describe it: “flawless.”

The white-robed woman did not understand go, but from the others’ expressions, she knew: “They’re going to lose.”

Zou Shuning had long realized—the green-robed Daoist’s go skill was unmatched in this world.

She could not help but sigh: such mastery was beyond the reach of any mortal.

The old man slowly closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and gently placed his black stone into the bowl.

His voice was filled with resignation and exhaustion: “I am outmatched. I concede.”

He accepted defeat without resentment, wholeheartedly.

Upon hearing this, the fat scholar’s lips trembled: “We… we’ve all lost!” His voice brimmed with terror and despair.

The Daoist smiled faintly: “Now, your lives are mine.”

The Daoist set down his stone; the black and white stones slipped into the bowl, and he turned his gaze toward you!

At this moment… you decide.

1. Play a game of go. (Hint: High chance of gaining the Daoist’s favor, unlocking unknown fortune.)

2. Refuse. (Hint: May waste time, gain nothing.)

3. Participate personally. (1/3)

The light screen above the tripod shifted, revealing three options.

Yu Ke did not hesitate—he chose Option 1: Play a game of go. (Hint: High chance of gaining the Daoist’s favor, unlocking unknown fortune.)

Hope this time yields good gear.

The secret manual from the Great Snow Mountain’s saint still cannot be claimed until this simulation ends.

It seems all items obtained in simulations cannot be claimed until the simulation concludes.

With your choice made.

You slowly rose to your feet; all eyes fixed on you.

Lu Yu followed closely behind you.

You had spent your entire life before twenty in the north; Zhongnan Mountain was your hermitage, and few in the south knew you.

You removed your wide-brimmed hat, revealing the face of a middle-aged man.

Su Zi yin recognized your face and froze.

The two scholars turned pale with fear—what if even a great master had lost? What could they do now?

Zou Shuning held no hope for you; she knew the green-robed Daoist’s skill was peerless in this world.

She raced through strategies in her mind—she could not simply wait to die.

Feng Long had nearly lost his reason, clawing at his hair—he did not want to die here.

Only the white-robed woman remained calm.

The others stepped aside to make way; you nodded respectfully to the old man, then slowly took his seat.

The old man blinked in surprise—he felt a strange sense of familiarity, yet could not place you.

Su Zi yin only snapped back to awareness as you sat down; inexplicably, she felt you would win.

The green-robed Daoist no longer sat casually; he turned sideways, one hand resting on his sleeve, the other pinching a stone, his expression solemn.

He pushed both stone bowls to the center of the board, then picked up a handful of white stones and said: “I am much older than you; you should choose first.”

Zou Shuning, seeing this, felt a surge of astonishment.

This arrogant Daoist had voluntarily offered the choice of color—something never done in his previous games.

She began to wonder: Could this middle-aged man be a hidden go master? Was there still a sliver of hope?

The others also noticed the Daoist’s change; they quickly turned their gazes back to the board, eager to see how this mysterious man would respond.

You gently shook your head, took the white stone bowl, glanced outside the temple—the rain had finally stopped.

The sky outside had brightened considerably.

Finally, we can continue our journey.

“I have never played black in my life,” you said calmly, your voice steady.

“And we must finish this quickly—I still need to reach the capital.”

You have a gift for reading people; since you learned the rules of this small board, you have never lost a game.

Thus, playing black for you is like cheating your opponent.

Zou Shuning sighed in regret—choosing first gives a slight advantage, and black moves first, gaining the initiative.

She thought you were being arrogant.

The old man assumed you did not know the Daoist’s true strength and feared you would be outmatched.

As he opened his mouth to warn you, both of you had already placed your stones.

A stone placed, no regrets; observers remain silent.

The green-robed Daoist held black and moved first.

You held white and responded immediately.

The first dozens of moves were played in rapid succession; Zou Shuning had not even fully observed the opening before you were already in the middle game.

The old man stared intently at the board, tense, not daring to blink.

Your pace was too fast—on the middle game board, armies had already been deployed; the tension was suffocating.

Zou Shuning was now stunned.

She recalled her own game with the Daoist—by the middle game, she had been utterly crushed.

Yet now, you were holding your own against him; she began to regard you with new respect.

Still, defeating the green-robed man seemed nearly impossible.

The green-robed Daoist pinched a black stone, then paused.

After a moment, he slowly placed it down.

“Tap.”

You placed your stone without hesitation.

Everyone in the temple exhaled.

It was only a game of go, yet they heard the clash of weapons and the neighing of horses.

The old man looked again at the board—the black and white stones, once veiled like mist-shrouded peaks, had been shattered by your move, revealing their true form.

Fu Long couldn't help but exclaim: “Brilliant.”

“So that’s how it is—this is the turning point.”

The green-robed Daoist looked uncertain, one hand stroking his chin, the other tapping the board with the pad of his middle finger.

This was the green-robed Daoist’s habit—always urging others to play.

Unbelievable!

Yet now I’ve used it myself—truly, it’s as if the opponent knew exactly what I was thinking.

Every time I played a stone, just as I was building momentum, it was cut off early—agonizing.

But within his scheme, every move of mine was a follow-up, with hidden threads stretching a thousand li, slowly unfolding.

Another dozen moves!

Their eyes burned with intensity, especially the thin scholar, who could no longer hold back.

“A scheme within a scheme, Cengcengqiantao —impossible to foresee.”

Zou Shuning also felt disbelief; she simply could not fathom how someone could place one stone and foresee the board’s state a hundred moves ahead.

To see a single leaf is to know the year is drawing to an end; to see ice in a bottle is to know the world is cold.

You two continue playing—the green-robed Daoist’s every move was now cautious, requiring deep deliberation.

Yet from the opening to now, your stones never paused a moment; your strategy unfolded naturally, as if all were under your control.

“I lost!”

The green-robed Daoist looked up at you, a flicker of admiration and respect in his eyes: “Indeed, as he said, the only ones who could beat you are ghosts and gods.”

“My title of ‘Go Saint’—I no longer deserve it.”

Those inside the temple cheered; Su Zi’s lips curled into a brilliant smile.

Zou Lin, however, felt something odd—the name “Liu Zhongfu” sounded familiar.

“This is your prize for winning.”

“Go is like life. Watching you play, I knew you’d survive and leave Jingdu. I’ll wait for you in the north.”

The green-robed Daoist had already taken his leave; two stones, black and white, now rested on the board.

You picked up the two stones.

Prompt: Congratulations. You have obtained two strands of Woxuanmuqi . They have been collected. This simulation will grant them after ten years.

You gazed at the green-robed Daoist’s retreating back, lost in thought.

The old man suddenly recalled the legendary green-robed Go Saint of two hundred years ago—also named Liu Zhongfu.

He remembered Liu Zhongfu entered the first rank of Go at age nine, became invincible by his twenties, and at twenty declared himself “I Yield the First Move to All Under Heaven.”

Yet this once-great Go Saint was later framed by enemies in a corruption case, his entire family executed; only Liu Zhongfu escaped.

Three years later, the case was overturned—but the great Go Saint vanished thereafter, rumored to have taken the Dao.

The old man shook his head again; two centuries had passed—it was surely just a coincidence.

Yet just then!

A thunder of hooves erupted outside the temple, shattering its stillness.

A large troop of armored soldiers, wielding sharp weapons, stormed into the temple, fierce and imposing.

At their head was a dignified middle-aged man with a fine beard; his eyes scanned the temple anxiously.

Su Zi saw the man and lit up with joy, stepping forward: “Uncle Li Ran, what brings you here?”

“Miss!” Li Ran, seeing Su Zi unharmed, finally exhaled in relief, then narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze over the temple’s occupants.

“Miss, are you injured?” he asked, concerned.

Su Zi shook her head. “I’m fine, Uncle Li. Where’s Father?”

Li Ran replied: “Master is leading men to repair the floating bridge across the river. He sensed something amiss here and sent me to check.”

I thought this would be tonight—it’s already morning!



(End of Chapter)