Jiang Fuyue held the black stones.
So—
She won!
Tosaki Naohara was momentarily stunned before snapping his head toward the Go board.
And after a brief silence in the audience, thunderous applause erupted and went on and on.“Oh my God, Sister Yue is absolutely epic! Wuwuwu—what can’t she do? I’m tired of asking this same question over and over again!”
“Da Vinci wasn’t this versatile.”
“Whoever gets Sister Yue basically owns a walking encyclopedia of all human talents. Wahh! I want her!”
“Not only is she a jack of all trades, she’s a master of them too. Someone write a book called How to Slap Faces Scientifically. I’ll preorder ten copies.”
“Yet another day I want to be Sister Yue’s thigh accessory~”
“And someone actually said her family couldn’t afford interest classes? At this level, no ten clubs could produce a genius like her, okay? That guy must feel so superior—what a joke!”
“I just saw pure existential dread in Tosaki Naohara’s eyes. Hahahaha… He’s probably interrogating his soul: Who am I? Where am I? What did I just do?”
In the middle school seating area—
“I—I’m stunned.”
“WTF! Is this some feel-good protagonist storyline?”
“Senior Jiang looks like she’s glowing up there on stage.”
“Does she need a minion? I come free, hand-delivered.”
“I hereby declare: from today onward, Senior Jiang is my number one goddess.”
“So gorgeous, so bad*ss—my only honest emotional response is: D*mn!”
“Are you freestyling right now?”
“…”
Jiang Chenxing sat among the screaming crowd, eyes glowing as he looked toward the stage. He neither screamed nor cheered, standing out starkly from his surroundings—but the sparkle in his eyes and his reddened palms spoke volumes of his inner excitement.
A classmate nearby nudged his shoulder.
“Jiang Chenxing, why are you just sitting there like a robot? This is such an epic moment—how are you even staying still? Respect.”
“I…” He was just about to respond when someone cut him off.
“He’s a famous online influencer and streaming personality, right? He’s seen way bigger scenes than this. This? This is nothing.”
Jiang Chenxing frowned.
The classmate who had started the topic immediately shot back:
“Could you not be so passive-aggressive? Your tone is so sour it’s rotting my teeth. What does it matter to you whether he’s excited or not?”
Because Jiang Chenxing was ridiculously popular in the middle school section—especially among the girls—many of the boys didn’t like him.
Snide remarks were a daily occurrence. Some even said they were going to “put him in his place.”
Nothing had ever actually happened, but the verbal jabs? Frequent.
“Wang Wei, are you Jiang Chenxing’s pet dog or something? Your master hasn’t said a word, and here you are barking? That’s not right.”
“You—!” Wang Wei was just about to fire back—
But the usually silent Jiang Chenxing suddenly opened his mouth: “Apologize to Wang Wei.”
Zhang Zhenhao was stunned. It took him three whole seconds to realize: “Are you… talking to me?”
“Yes. You must apologize to Wang Wei.” His tone, usually mild, was now firm and commanding.
Not only Zhang Zhenhao, even Wang Wei froze.
Was this really that quiet, conflict-avoidant Jiang Chenxing? Had someone possessed him?
Zhang Zhenhao was furious—this weakling dared to stand up to him? Unacceptable!
He sneered, arrogance dripping from his voice: “Why should I apologize? Who the h*ll do you think you are? You think you can order me around?!”
Jiang Chenxing: “Because you insulted him, and I’m his friend. I’m asking for an apology. What’s wrong with that?”
“Hah… and what if I don’t?”
While the crowd was still cheering, this little corner was tense and ready to explode at any moment.
Wang Wei whispered anxiously, “Maybe… just let it go?”
But Jiang Chenxing shook his head, eyes unwavering.
“Sigh…” What now? If the vice principal showed up, they were all screwed.
Zhang Zhenhao, seeing Jiang Chenxing at a loss for words, grinned triumphantly.
“What? Cat got your tongue? Weren’t you acting all high and mighty just now? Let me tell you—I’m not apologizing today. Whoever does is a loser!”
Wang Wei, fuming, nearly lunged at him: “Zhang Zhenhao, grow a spine! While Senior Jiang is winning glory for the country on stage, you’re here disgracing us all. Aren’t you ashamed?”
“Wang Wei, you little—!”
“If you won’t apologize,” Jiang Chenxing calmly interrupted, each word crisp and deliberate, “then I’ll go public.”
“You… go public?!” Zhang Zhenhao froze.
“You just said I’m a well-known influencer, right? If I post what you did today online for the whole nation to see, what do you think will happen?”
Zhang Zhenhao remembered all the horror stories of online backlash—phone spam, harassment, being chased, having urine or worse dumped on them…
He shivered instinctively. But if he backed down now, wouldn’t he look pathetic?
“You… you’ve got no proof! Even if you post it, no one will believe you!”
Jiang Chenxing pulled out his phone. The screen showed a live recording—already seven minutes in.
Zhang Zhenhao was dumbfounded:
“You—”
“You” was all he could manage. He couldn’t say another word.
“Apologize.”
Zhang Zhenhao ground his teeth.
“If I apologize, will you delete the recording?”
Jiang Chenxing nodded.
“…I’m sorry!”
He shoved through the crowd and scurried away, as if he couldn’t escape fast enough.
Wang Wei snorted: “And he said whoever apologizes is a loser. Well, guess what—he just earned the title!”
Then, with a grin, he turned to Jiang Chenxing and gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder: “D*mn, man. You’re always so quiet, but when it counts, you deliver—bad*ss!”
Jiang Chenxing smiled sheepishly.
“My sister taught me.”
“Oh, the all-powerful sister of yours who can do literally everything?”
“Mm.” His face flushed.
Wang Wei’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he glanced toward the stage: “So who’s more amazing, her or Senior Jiang?”
Jiang Chenxing froze. “…They’re equally amazing.”
“For real?”
“For real!”
Wang Wei still had doubts. Could there really be someone more incredible than Senior Jiang? He suspected Chenxing was just blinded by sister-worship…
“Now that the Go competition is over, are we moving on to the calligraphy round?”
—
Onstage, Tosaki Naohara had checked the board. He had, in fact, lost.
Jiang Fuyue met his suddenly cold gaze with a faint smile.
“Well?”
“You’re very good.”
This was the first time Tosaki Naohara looked at her properly.
Even though she’d won the koto competition yesterday, he hadn’t taken her seriously. That had just been luck—she caught him off guard.
But today, she’d defeated him in Go—his pride and strength. Now, he had no choice but to recognize her as an equal.
“Convinced?”
Tosaki Naohara stared at her, eyes icy: “You used trickery. A dishonorable win.”
He had finally realized: she’d deliberately lured him into speed-playing, waging psychological warfare.
“A win is a win. A loss is a loss. No matter the method. Haven’t you heard the saying—‘It doesn’t matter whether the cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice’?”
“You know nothing about the spirit of Go.”
“Maybe not. I only care about victory.”
“You’ve abandoned your principles. Is this what you Chinese call national spirit?”
He suddenly snatched the microphone and raised his voice.
His words boomed across the entire hall through the speakers.
The audience gradually fell silent.
What just happened? Did he… snap?
The Japanese contestant couldn’t take a loss?
Everyone looked at each other, stunned into silence.
Even the front-row delegations and judges looked confused.
Hu Yongwei frowned.
The expressions on the Chinese representatives’ faces grew solemn.
National spirit…
That was a loaded topic. Even Hu Yongwei himself wasn’t sure how to properly answer.
And Jiang Fuyue was just a high schooler. How could she possibly respond?
One wrong step, and she’d fall into his trap, confirming his accusations.
Just then, Jiang Fuyue calmly stretched out her hand toward Tosaki Naohara—
“Microphone.”
He handed it over.
She held it to her lips, swept her gaze over the audience, then looked back at Tosaki Naohara. Her next words rang through the hall, powerful and unshakable—
“You mentioned how even when Wu Qingyuan played the ‘three-star tengen’ opening, he still lost in regret to Shusai. Then let me use today’s game to tell you: what our ancestors couldn’t achieve, we descendants can.”
“Back then, Wu Qingyuan lost by two points. Today, I beat you by two.”
“You ask what the spirit of China is? Let me tell you—what our predecessors couldn’t finish, we of China will carry forward, generation after generation, until it is done. That is the Chinese spirit!”
