Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Chess King of Jiangnan (Part 1)

The art of strategy lies in rigor. The master claims the center; the lesser, the sides; the novice, the corners—thus is it always among players of the game. The maxim goes: “Better to lose a few moves than to lose the initiative.” Sometimes one is first, then last; sometimes last, then first. Strike to the left, but keep an eye to the right; attack from behind, but look to the front. Do not sever two living groups; do not connect two already alive. Too wide a space should not be too sparse; too close a formation should not be too tight. Rather than clinging to stones in a desperate bid for life, it is better to sacrifice them to gain influence; rather than forcing action without cause, it is better to follow the flow and reinforce oneself. When they are many and we are few, first secure survival; when we are many and they are few, focus on expanding influence. The one who wins well does not contend; the one who arrays his forces well does not fight; the one who fights well does not lose; the one who loses well does not fall into chaos. The game begins with orthodoxy and concludes with surprise—so it must be. Survey the board from all sides; make it unassailable, then you may strike where none expects, catching your opponent unprepared. Whenever an opponent reinforces without provocation, he intends to invade or cut. To abandon the small without pursuit is to harbor ambitions for the great. Those who play aimlessly act without strategy. To respond without thought is the path to defeat. As the poem says: “Timid and cautious, as if treading a sheer gorge.”

These words originate from the "Thirteen Chapters of the Classic of Go," setting forth the principles and secrets of the game. Among players, there is the saying: “Gold at the corner, silver at the side, grass on the belly”—a common adage for attack and defense, the guiding rule of standard openings, an eternal truth. Yet the sages in their discussions of the game always prize the contest for influence, above all else the dominance of the center. The center is the firmament, but the “heavenly” influence is hard to grasp; if one spreads moves at the outset, one only claims empty potential, less solid than the sides and corners. Therefore, there is no such thing as “ascending to heaven in a single move.” Yet Go is called the “heavenly art,” lauded as the game of immortals. Surely, then, there must be a way to “ascend to heaven,” though mortals do not understand it; only the immortals themselves know it—such is the realm of transcendence in Go.

Fang Guohuan followed Zhao Mingfeng and the others through several winding streets, finally arriving at a residence deep within an alley. An elderly man was standing at the gate, peering out. Zhao Mingfeng stepped forward, bowed, and said, “Uncle Yu, is Uncle Tian at home?” Upon seeing Zhao Mingfeng and Han Yu, the old man broke into a smile. “So it's the four young masters! Please, come in. The master has stepped out but said he will be back shortly. Kindly wait in the main hall.” Clearly, he was acquainted with the four gentlemen of Suzhou.

Upon hearing that Tian Yangwu would return soon, Fang Guohuan felt relieved, grateful not to have made the journey in vain.

Old Yu ushered them through the gate into a refined courtyard. There were trees in the yard, a well beneath the shade, a stone table and stools by the well, a guest hall opposite, side rooms to each flank, and a side door leading to the back garden—a place that exuded serenity and peace. The old man invited them to sit in the hall, then went to instruct the servants to brew tea.

Han Yu noticed an enormous scroll hanging above the hall, bearing a singular, bold character for “Go.” The brushwork was so full and raised it seemed to leap from the paper, yet the edges bore a trace of chiseled sharpness. Nodding in admiration, he said, “What a magnificent piece! This single character is worth a fortune.” Turning to Zhao Mingfeng, he continued, “I heard this character was written in drunken collaboration by Tian Yangwu and Xu Jinglun—Xu wrote the ‘wood’ radical, Tian wrote the rest. Is that true?”

Zhao Mingfeng replied, “Indeed, the two of them wrote it together, each inspired by wine, in the Yiyang Pavilion at Biyou Manor.”

Han Yu exclaimed, “Had I not known beforehand, I would never have guessed this was done by two hands. The execution is seamless and whole, without the slightest flaw—a stroke of genius!” Fang Guohuan, hearing this, marveled quietly to himself.

At this moment, Song Qixiu remarked, “It is said that Chu Yanhe, the famous collector of Suzhou, once tried to purchase this character for three hundred gold, but Master Tian laughed and refused.” Han Yu chuckled, “That bookish fellow’s three hundred gold wouldn’t buy even half of this character.”

Song Qixiu said, “Perhaps Master Tian was simply too polite to sell a friend’s calligraphy.”

Han Yu laughed, “You don’t understand the meaning within this character. Only the King of Go in the south is worthy to hang it.”

Tian Xingguang, who seemed to grasp the point, interjected, “How much could a single character really be worth? It’s only because Xu Jinglun and the King of Go are so famous. People pay for their names, to show off and decorate their homes with a touch of elegance.”

Han Yu retorted, “Your calligraphy is just as well known in Suzhou, yet I’ve never heard of anyone willing to pay even a few coins for your scrolls.”

Tian Xingguang replied sheepishly, “You jest, Han. How could I compare with those two?”

At that, Zhao Mingfeng laughed, “Among the four of us, only Yu’s poetry is truly valuable; the rest of us, perhaps only our bones are worth anything.” Han Yu burst into hearty laughter, and Fang Guohuan could not help but smile as well.

Just then, a clear, resonant voice sounded from outside: “The four gentlemen of Suzhou, all in my humble house? What a rare honor!” Fang Guohuan looked up to see a man standing at the threshold—dressed in white robes and a square cap, a jade belt around his waist, five long whiskers, eyes shining with intelligence, bearing an ethereal grace, a truly distinguished figure. Everyone in the hall was visibly delighted.

Zhao Mingfeng hurried forward and bowed. “Your nephew greets Uncle Tian.” Fang Guohuan was startled. “So this is the King of Go in the south, Tian Yangwu—truly, his fame does not do him justice! What a transcendent presence!” Han Yu, Song Qixiu, and Tian Xingguang each stepped forward in turn to pay their respects. Tian Yangwu returned their greetings, then noticed a young stranger in the room. “And this gentleman is…?”

Fang Guohuan was just about to introduce himself, but Zhao Mingfeng intervened, “Uncle Tian, this is my good friend, Master Fang. He, too, is of the Go fraternity, and, having long admired your reputation, has come especially to learn from you. I hope, Uncle Tian, that you might…”

Tian Yangwu smiled, “Anyone recommended by Mingfeng must be a skilled player. I haven’t had a good game in ages—my hands are itching! Let us play a round, Master Fang.”

Zhao Mingfeng was delighted. Fang Guohuan, seeing Tian Yangwu’s magnanimity, felt deep respect and quickly bowed. “I am unworthy, but beg for your guidance, Master Tian.” Tian Yangwu, noting Fang’s clear gaze and refined bearing, took a liking to him and replied with a smile, “For us who follow the way of Go, a worthy opponent is all we need.” He invited Fang Guohuan and the others to be seated.

Old Yu, realizing Fang had come to challenge the master, approached Tian Yangwu and whispered, “Sir, shall we begin?” Tian Yangwu nodded, “Since he is a friend of Master Mingfeng, he must be of no small skill. We should let Master Fang enjoy himself.” Fang Guohuan was further impressed by Tian’s gracious demeanor, so unlike those who rest on their fame. Tian Xingguang and Song Qixiu exchanged a knowing smile, secretly pleased.

Old Yu soon set out the board and stones. Tian Yangwu invited Fang Guohuan to sit across from him. Tian was accustomed to giving handicap stones to accommodate his opponents’ skill, so he asked, “Shall I give you two or three stones, Master Fang?”

Fang Guohuan, a true player at heart, replied without false modesty, “I am unworthy, but would like to play an even game against you, Master Tian, and hope for your instruction.” He knew that to attract the attention of the famed King of Go, he would have to let his playing speak for itself.

Tian Yangwu was taken aback; never before had someone made such a bold request. Zhao Mingfeng, Han Yu, and the others were equally astonished—they wondered if they had heard correctly.

Zhao Mingfeng thought, “Though my friend’s skill is formidable, enough to defeat a master like Han Yu, today’s opponent is the King of Go, a true master among masters. With a handicap, he might have a fair chance, but does he truly possess the transcendence that Master Han once spoke of?”

Tian Yangwu, worthy of his title, threw his head back in laughter. “Excellent! Excellent! Young Master Fang, you are bold and spirited. I have long wanted to meet a true rival.”

Tian Xingguang and Song Qixiu were overjoyed. They pulled Zhao Mingfeng aside. “We’d best not interfere—let’s leave them to their match.” Understanding their intent, Zhao Mingfeng replied, “Please, go on,” and the three discreetly took seats at the stone table in the courtyard. Han Yu regarded Fang Guohuan with curiosity, then shook his head and joined the others. Old Yu had servants bring tea to the courtyard for the four.

Tian Xingguang, feeling pleased, said to Zhao Mingfeng, “He’s your guest, so you alone are responsible for him!” Zhao Mingfeng laughed, “Naturally. I’ll wager a thousand taels—if we lose, I’ll fetch it from the Gold Standard Bank.” Tian Xingguang was delighted. “Wonderful! Don’t go back on your word.”

Zhao Mingfeng replied, “A gentleman’s promise is as good as gold. But you all heard: my friend is playing even against Master Tian—there’s no handicap. If he wins, you three must pay tenfold odds.” Tian Xingguang agreed readily. “Of course! Master Tian is our champion—we’re in safe hands! If you won’t back the underdog, who will?” Zhao Mingfeng gave a cold smile and asked Song Qixiu and Han Yu, “What do you two say?” Song Qixiu laughed, “Who wouldn’t take such an easy bet? Zhao, you must be addled by your recent marriage.” Han Yu nodded in assent, and Zhao Mingfeng smacked the table. “Excellent! Let’s see whose luck prevails.” In truth, he had little confidence in the outcome, but for the sake of Fang Guohuan’s dignity, he would accept defeat if need be.

Tian Yangwu glanced at the four in the courtyard, then smiled at Fang Guohuan. “Scholars at play—just a friendly wager.” He clearly knew the four men of Suzhou well.

Fang Guohuan smiled back, “It seems both on and off the board, everyone finds their own amusement.” Seeing Fang’s calm composure, Tian Yangwu felt sure this young man, having sought him out by reputation, must not be ordinary, else he would not dare issue such a challenge. “As the guest, Master Fang, you have the first move.” Fang Guohuan knew that only by speaking through the stones could he converse with this southern king, and so he took Black and opened at the 8-8 point, employing the “Celestial Lyre Star” formation. Since attaining the “Heaven’s Origin” realm, he had abandoned the aggressive central opening and instead created a star-pattern approach to claim the center—seeking to seize the “heavenly influence.”

Tian Yangwu was startled to see Fang open in the center, thinking, “This man’s play departs from convention—does he possess such advanced skill? I should have asked Mingfeng about his origins. He comes with intent; I must be cautious.” Though experienced, Tian dared not underestimate his opponent and replied at the lower left star point.

Fang’s third move was at the 5-5, Tian’s fourth at the upper right star point, establishing a diagonal. Fang’s fifth landed at the 14th line; Tian’s sixth at the lower right star, securing three star points. Fang’s seventh was at the 12th line. Tian frowned and placed his eighth move at 17-10. Fang’s next went to 15-13, completing the Celestial Lyre formation.

Tian Yangwu saw five black stones scattered about the center, arrayed like stars, possessing a commanding presence over the board. He was startled, thinking, “This young man, with his refined features and focused mien, is surely not one to play tricks. Could he have some hidden technique? Otherwise, how could mere empty influence defeat solid territory?” Puzzled, he cautiously played his tenth move as a three-space extension in the upper right.

Between masters, the feeling of the game transcends the ordinary, and a subtle magic arises—so different from the play of common hands. By the fourteenth move, Tian was deeply astonished. No matter what brilliant tactics he employed, he found himself enmeshed within his opponent’s sphere of influence. He realized, to his amazement, that his adversary sought not to attack or claim territory, but to harmonize the positions of both sides, as if nourishing all things silently like the rain. Each stone Fang Guohuan placed seemed to integrate the game, beyond words exquisite.

Tian was struck: “Playing against him feels entirely different—like a stone striking water; there is no contest. Even if I try to suppress or contain, he blends everything with his influence. It seems this young man’s strength has reached a level of supernatural mastery.” At that moment, Tian Yangwu’s heart stirred.

Fang Guohuan, meanwhile, was in his element, playing with abandon. Since attaining the Heaven’s Origin realm, there were few in the world who could truly stir his enthusiasm. He esteemed Tian’s skill as equal to his master, Abbot Kuyuan, and relished the rare meeting of true equals.

When the count reached one hundred and fifty-two moves, Tian Yangwu was thoroughly convinced. He saw that Fang Guohuan’s play had transcended the ordinary strategies of attack and defense, reaching a state of divine transformation. He set down his stone and declared, “I never imagined, in my lifetime, I would experience such a miraculous game. This alone makes the match worthwhile. Master Fang, your skill exceeds the heavens themselves—I am in awe and must admit defeat.”

Fang Guohuan quickly responded, “You are too generous, sir. Your own strength is that of a grandmaster, a worthy rival to my teacher.”

Tian Yangwu asked in surprise, “May I ask, from whom did you learn your art?” Fang replied, “My teacher is Master Kuyuan, who often speaks of you.”

“Kuyuan!” Tian Yangwu exclaimed in delight, “No wonder you possess such transcendent skill—you are the eminent disciple of the Abbot of Tianyuan Temple…”

He rose, studying Fang Guohuan, and asked in astonishment, “Does this mean you have achieved that highest realm of Go which Master Kuyuan sought all his life—the Heaven’s Origin state?”

Fang Guohuan replied, “Before a true master, I will not dissemble. Thanks to my teacher’s instruction, I attained it in three years.”

Tian Yangwu was overjoyed. “Go in communion with Heaven! So it is true—Kuyuan’s vision of the transcendent game has become reality in you. What fortune! Such a marvel comes but once in a thousand years. This is the greatest blessing for our art.”

Fang Guohuan said, “You flatter me, sir. The way of Go is vast and profound—I cannot claim to have mastered it alone.”

“Fang Guohuan!?” Tian Yangwu was stunned. “So you are the very Master Fang who, outside Dushikou Pass, used the Heaven’s Origin formation to turn back two hundred thousand Jurchen cavalry? Of course, of course—who but you could have such mastery!”

Fang replied, “Circumstances were dire, and I acted out of necessity. I was fortunate to succeed, thanks to many heroes who fought bravely under the banner.”

Tian declared, “Go as military strategy—Master Fang, you have proved it indeed. Ever since I heard that you turned back the Jurchen army with your formation, I longed to meet the legend behind the name. Today, you surpass all my expectations.” He was beside himself with excitement.

At this, Han Yu and the other gentlemen, seeing the game had ended and the two conversing, rose and reentered the hall. Tian Xingguang, unable to restrain his curiosity, blurted out, “Master Tian, how many stones did you beat Master Fang by?”

Tian Yangwu, seeing his namesake so impatient, smiled, “In the presence of Master Fang, how could I claim victory? I dare not even mention the word ‘Go’ again.” That the King of Go could utter such words left the four gentlemen of Suzhou astounded.

Han Yu, himself a student of the game, looked at the board and saw the stones scattered seemingly without order, lacking any sign of capturing or enclosing. He was puzzled. Zhao Mingfeng asked, “Uncle Tian, what happened here?”

Tian Yangwu smiled, “Today, I must thank you for introducing me to Master Fang. I never imagined such a master still existed in the world. I am deeply impressed and can no longer call myself King of Go.” Turning to Tian Xingguang and Song Qixiu, both still stunned, he laughed, “The three of you will have to pay dearly today. It’s not for lack of effort on my part, but simply beyond my ability. I hope you’re not too disappointed.” Then, he addressed Han Yu, “Master Han, do you know who this Master Fang is?”

Han Yu, aware that Fang was no ordinary figure, shook his head blankly.

Tian Yangwu said, “Master Han, you are a man of Go, yet you have not studied the art with diligence and know little of our fraternity. But a few months ago, beyond the Great Wall, a man used the Heaven’s Origin formation to help the greatest alliance in the martial world repel two hundred thousand Jurchen cavalry. Surely you have heard of it?”

Original publication.

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