Time flew by swiftly, and before long, another week had passed.

"Still not good enough..."

In his bedroom, Yu Shao gazed at the Go board before him and let out a soft sigh.

For the past two days, he hadn’t gone to the Mountain Sea Go Club. Instead, he stayed home, reviewing and analyzing games, as well as playing both sides of the board—what was known as self-play.

One side played in the style he had mastered in his past life, while the other played the refined style of his current life, sharpening his skills through the contrast.

Back before the High School Go League, he had also practiced self-play. But at that time, no matter how he played, the style from his past life always won. Now, with his focus on transformation, he could finally defeat the moves from his past life in self-play.

However, overall, his victories were still few and losses many—perhaps winning three or four out of ten games, not even reaching half.

It was only through this self-play that Yu Shao realized just how formidable an opponent his past self had been.

The playstyle of his past life was extremely calm and restrained, never initiating complex battles. Even when spotting an opponent’s weakness, he would quietly observe their movements, leaving no gaps to exploit.

If forced into aggression, the entire position would collapse. If not forced, the opponent would be subdued without a fight—concealing sharpness in tranquility, hearing thunder in silence.

To win through direct attack, Yu Shao would have to push the board into complete chaos, beyond any semblance of control. But even with his deep self-awareness, finding such an opportunity was nearly impossible.

"Still haven’t fully reached the limit..."

Yu Shao stared at the board, lost in thought.

Though this was already tremendous progress compared to his past self, it still fell far short of his expectations.

Because while he was moving forward, others were advancing even faster. He could only rely on his own exploration, while others could learn from his game records and grow rapidly.

Take Su Yiming, for example, who had caught up at a staggering pace.

If Yu Shao still couldn’t hold his own against his past self, how long could this advantage last?

"If I could push the attacking path to its extreme, then merge it with the playstyle of my past life... A single game could contain both the refined simplicity of solid play and the ruthless decisiveness of a killing blow when the opportunity arises—flowing water that doesn’t compete for speed, yet seizes every chance to strike..."

As this thought crossed his mind, Yu Shao suddenly froze.

These descriptions... they felt strangely familiar.

In his past life, this was exactly how people had described AI.

Every Go player had their own style. Some were aggressive, preferring high-position formations, actively seeking battles to prevent the game from stabilizing. Others were solid, moving like unshakable boulders, slowly strangling their opponents through positional pressure.

Having a distinctive style was a hallmark of human players.

Only AI had no style.

Or rather, AI’s style was the sum of all styles.

AI could chase influence, stringing together miraculous moves in a breathtaking, unstoppable slaughter. It could also return to fundamentals, quietly securing territory before crushing opponents by a half-point margin.

Moments later, Yu Shao shook his head, refocused, and resumed his self-play.

......

In the blink of an eye, another eight days passed.

Only three days remained until the start of the Phoenix Cup.

That morning, Yu Shao arrived at the Southern Go Academy. Passing through the lobby, he walked down the corridor toward the gathering point for Phoenix Cup participants.

Two young professional players stood in the hallway, engaged in an animated discussion, completely unaware of Yu Shao’s approach.

"The hype for this Phoenix Cup World Championship is insane. I scroll through short videos, and seven or eight out of ten are about the Phoenix Cup. Feels like I’m trapped in an information bubble," a long-haired young man grumbled.

"It’s not just you—the hype really is that big. My girlfriend, who never cared about Go, keeps seeing posts about it. But hey, it’s a good thing! More people are paying attention to the game."

A bespectacled young man chuckled before asking curiously, "Who do you think will win this World Championship?"

"No clue. How the hell would anyone know? Anything can happen at the World Championship. Just qualifying requires making it to the main event of a title match in the last three years. Anyone could take it."

The long-haired young man shook his head. "Haven’t there been plenty of upsets in World Championships before?"

"I actually think our chances are pretty strong this year."

The bespectacled young man pondered before continuing, "Master Zhuang Weisheng goes without saying. Zhu Huai’an just won two major titles this year. And then there are those two monsters—Yu Shao and Su Yiming!"

"Nah, you’re oversimplifying things."

The long-haired young man shook his head again. "Master Zhuang Weisheng lost his 10-dan title this year. I’m worried his performance might not be as strong as before."

"Zhu Huai’an may be riding high with two titles, but compared to past players who held multiple titles—like Master Zhuang Weisheng himself—Zhu Huai’an just doesn’t feel as intimidating."

"As for Yu Shao and Su Yiming, I actually think they’re scarier than Zhu Huai’an. They’re absolute monsters. But then again, this is their first World Championship."

The bespectacled young man rolled his eyes. "Man, you’re such a downer. Listening to you, it sounds like Chinese Go is doomed."

"I was actually pretty confident at first. But then I heard Master An Hongshi was competing, and suddenly, my confidence vanished." The long-haired young man sighed, his voice distant.

"Wait, weren’t you just saying anything can happen at the World Championship? Now you’re saying you’ve lost all confidence just because Master An is playing?"

The bespectacled young man stared wide-eyed. "So you’re basically saying Master An will win? Isn’t that contradictory?"

"Well, yeah, logically."

The long-haired young man’s tone was complicated as he explained, "I know Master An might not win. If you ask me if he could lose, I’d say yes. But the thing is... it’s Master An we’re talking about."

"...Damn."

The bespectacled young man fell silent.

That... actually made sense.

Three years ago, despite his failing health, An Hongshi had swept both World Championships that year, taking two world titles. That memory remained vivid, leaving a deep impression.

But to say An Hongshi couldn’t lose? That wasn’t true. The problem was, even knowing he could lose, there was still this subconscious belief that he wouldn’t.

For the past twenty years, the name "An Hongshi" had been etched too deeply into everyone’s minds. His dominance was simply too overwhelming.

Even when someone had shattered his invincibility, people would just rebuild that golden image for him.

When Zhuang Weisheng defeated An Hongshi and took the world title from him, the entire nation erupted in celebration. In the eyes of countless fans, Zhuang Weisheng was instantly deified.

But the problem was, in the following World Championships, An Hongshi continued to dominate.

Suddenly, the bespectacled young man also felt a pang of pessimism about this year’s tournament.

"And I think—"

The long-haired young man was about to continue when he noticed Yu Shao standing nearby and immediately clamped his mouth shut, swallowing his words.

The bespectacled young man also spotted Yu Shao, his expression turning awkward. He hadn’t expected to run into one of the very people they were discussing.

Yu Shao, however, paid no mind to their conversation. Walking past them, he soon arrived at a game room and pushed the door open.

Inside, all the players registered for the Phoenix Cup had already gathered—except for Zhuang Weisheng, Chen Shan, and Zheng Qin. Also present was Ma Zhengyu, who would lead the team to Phoenix.

Additionally, many players who hadn’t registered for the Phoenix Cup but planned to attend as spectators were there, including Xu Zijin, Wu Zhixuan, and Le Haoqiang.

As Yu Shao entered, all eyes turned toward him.

"Yu Shao, you’re a bit late."

Wu Zhixuan’s eyes brightened when she saw him, and she grinned. "I almost took your spot in the tournament."

Beside her, Wu Shuheng snorted. "Yeah right. That’d be embarrassing on a global scale. People would think China’s standards for making the title match main event had dropped."

Wu Zhixuan huffed and ignored him.

"Traffic was bad."

Yu Shao smiled, offering an excuse before scanning the room. "I’m not the last one here, right? Su Yiming hasn’t arrived yet."

"Not just Su Yiming—9-dan Cui Junzhe isn’t here either."

At that moment, Zhuang Weisheng looked at Yu Shao and smiled. "Good morning, National Champion Yu Shao."

Yu Shao hesitated briefly before replying, "Good morning, Master Zhuang Weisheng."

"I hope we can face each other again at the World Championship," Zhuang Weisheng said warmly.

"Likewise."

Yu Shao nodded with a smile.

Though both were competing in this Phoenix Cup, there was no guarantee they would meet as opponents.

While the qualification requirement—reaching the main event of a title match—was already absurdly high compared to his past life, the sheer number of players in this world meant the tournament would still be packed with participants.

With so many players, if the format used round-robin or league stages, the event would drag on endlessly.

Thus, the Phoenix Cup’s early rounds were brutal single-elimination matches—lose once, and you were out. Only after thinning the field would the format shift.

Under this system, even current titleholders could be eliminated in the first round if luck wasn’t on their side, with no second chances. Ruthless.

The Phoenix Cup was relatively lenient—after single-elimination narrowed the field, it switched to double-elimination, allowing one loss.

Some World Championships used pure single-elimination throughout, with zero room for error. One slip, and it was over—utterly merciless.

Though the Phoenix Cup’s later double-elimination was gentler, past experience showed that once a player fell into the losers’ bracket, their chances of winning the championship dwindled.

Those who survived single-elimination were already elite. Fighting through the losers’ bracket against such competition was brutally difficult.

Everyone knew the losers’ bracket was tougher—once there, you had no room for error. Every match was do-or-die.

Thus, the battles in the losers’ bracket were especially fierce. Many legendary games emerged from there.

The winners’ bracket was different.

Though competition was still intense, having a safety net changed the mindset. Matches lacked the same desperation, making them comparatively calmer.

Finally, after clawing their way through the losers’ bracket, the last survivor would face the winners’ bracket champion in a best-of-three final.

Having fought through the losers’ bracket, players were often mentally and physically drained.

Thus, those who fell into the losers’ bracket early rarely triumphed in the finals. The winners’ bracket champion usually prevailed.

Cases of early losers’ bracket entrants ultimately winning the championship were exceedingly rare. The most recent example was Germany’s Master Hans.

After that World Championship, a reporter interviewed Hans, who called that path the "Road of Death," saying he never wanted to experience it again.

In short, World Championships were far more brutal and intense than domestic tournaments. Every player would bring their absolute best, fighting with everything they had.

"Then it comes down to luck."

Zhuang Weisheng smiled faintly before finally looking away from Yu Shao.

Yu Shao then turned to Zheng Qin, who stood in the room looking visibly nervous and unsure what to do with himself. After a moment’s thought, Yu Shao walked over.

"Why so tense? The tournament’s still days away. Today’s just the flight to Phoenix. What’ll you do when the matches actually start?" Yu Shao teased.

"I’m not nervous—I’m excited!"

Zheng Qin immediately defended himself. "When I became a pro, I always knew I’d reach the World Championship stage someday. I just didn’t expect it to happen this soon!"

"Soon?"

Yu Shao blinked. "You’ve been a pro for over two years now, haven’t you?"