As the two women conversed over their game, Su Cheng had already set five dishes and a soup on the dining table, calling them over for dinner.
Since this was Gu Ruoxue’s first time tasting his cooking, Su Cheng was particularly eager to hear her thoughts. This time, the dishes leaned toward a lighter, more delicate flavor profile.
After washing their hands in the bathroom, the two women returned and took their seats at the table, sitting side by side.
While serving them rice, Su Cheng couldn’t help but ask curiously, “How did the discussion go? What should I do tomorrow?”
“Didn’t you hear everything already?”
Gu Ruoxue shot him a cool glance before surveying the spread of dishes, a faint look of surprise crossing her face.
“Tomorrow’s matters will have to depend on you alone.”
Beside her, Li Guanqi added calmly, “There’s only so much the two of us can do to help.”
“Alright, let’s eat first.”
Su Cheng quickly urged them to start before the food cooled and lost its flavor.
The two nodded, and Gu Ruoxue gracefully picked up a piece of greens with her chopsticks, placing it delicately in her mouth and chewing slowly, savoring the taste with evident enjoyment.
However, just as she was relishing the flavor, she suddenly felt an intense, expectant gaze fixed on her.
Reluctantly, she swallowed and looked up.
Stare—
Su Cheng was watching her intently, his eyes brimming with anticipation and nervousness.
In an instant, Gu Ruoxue understood. She set down her bowl and chopsticks, cleared her throat lightly, and met his gaze. “I’ve tasted it. While it’s hard to describe exactly how I feel right now, overall, it’s quite good. I like it.”
The moment those words left her lips, Su Cheng’s face lit up with a bright, satisfied smile. “Just standard home cooking, really. But I’m glad you like it. Go ahead and eat—we can talk more afterward.”
Seeing his pleased and slightly smug expression, Gu Ruoxue lowered her head, the corners of her lips curling into a fleeting, almost imperceptible smile.
But she also noticed something.
He hadn’t asked for Li Guanqi’s opinion.
Though she had already suspected that Li Guanqi frequented this place, Su Cheng’s behavior now confirmed it—she must be a regular at his table.
Li Guanqi picked up a piece of vegetable, chewing thoughtfully before her eyes dimmed slightly. Compared to usual, the flavors were even milder this time.
Clearly, this meal had been tailored specifically for Senior Gu.
But then—
Just as she was about to take a bite of rice, she froze in surprise. The texture felt off. Quietly pushing the rice aside, she discovered three pieces of sweet and sour pork hidden beneath. Her expression shifted subtly, emotions swirling.
It was one of her favorite dishes.
The discovery lifted her spirits instantly.
Though there were only three pieces, it was proof of Su Cheng’s thoughtfulness.
Why hadn’t he made a whole plate of it?
Because sweet and sour pork was high in calories and sugar.
Su Cheng didn’t particularly enjoy it, and Senior Gu likely didn’t either.
More importantly, Su Cheng had been keeping a close eye on her sugar intake.
So he had given her just three pieces.
Seated separately, Su Cheng himself was never picky about flavors—whether spicy or sweet, he could handle it all.
But today, it was obvious he had a craving for something sweet.
And so—
The meal concluded with both women satisfied. Just as Su Cheng moved to clear the dishes, however, they stopped him, gesturing for him to check the chessboard instead. They would handle the cleanup.
Su Cheng, seeing both women like this, tactfully moved to the coffee table and sat on the sofa, studying the chessboard laid out before him.
"This is..."
After observing for a while, Su Cheng noticed a black stone placed prominently in the center—the Tianyuan position.
He thought for a moment and realized this must be the "Tianyuan" the two women had mentioned earlier. Though he didn’t understand Go, he had watched anime about it before.
From what he remembered in those shows, this Tianyuan position had an overly dramatic and pretentious name—"The Great Harmony of Heaven and Earth."
But even without knowing Go, he understood that this so-called "Great Harmony" was like playing jungle without Smite—claiming it was for the element of surprise. Utterly foolish and brain-dead.
From eavesdropping earlier, he also learned that Gu Ruoxue actually wanted him to play Go using Five-in-a-Row logic?
In Five-in-a-Row, starting in the center was standard.
But this was Go!
This was pure mockery and humiliation!
And then pretending to be a Go master?
Just thinking about it made him cringe unbearably.
How could he possibly play with that mindset?
"Quit the Go world?"
Let’s put it this way—his status in the Go world was about the same as Stephen Hawking’s in sports.
He’d never even joined, so how could he quit?
He truly hadn’t expected Gu Ruoxue to suggest such a bluffing tactic for playing Go. It didn’t align at all with her usual principled and upright approach.
Just then, Gu Ruoxue finished washing the dishes and walked over. She stood nearby, arms crossed, looking at him with an amused smirk.
"Are you serious?" Su Cheng looked up, frowning, and countered.
Gu Ruoxue shrugged slightly. "Do I look like I’m joking?"
Her tone was firm, leaving no doubt about her resolve.
Su Cheng fell silent.
Instead of responding immediately, he kept his eyes fixed on the board, scrutinizing it carefully.
Then he picked up a black stone and placed it in a relatively obscure spot before speaking again. "This doesn’t seem like your usual way of handling things."
"Then tell me, what should my usual way be?" Gu Ruoxue asked with interest, as if she genuinely enjoyed discussing this with him.
"You’d make me admit my mistakes and apologize to everyone involved. You’d never let me resort to deception."
Su Cheng’s voice was calm, carrying absolute certainty.
Gu Ruoxue raised an eyebrow, brushing off the fleeting, inexplicable feeling in her chest. Still, she kept a stern face and explained, "Because I’ve considered multiple factors. If a side quest triggers during your match and requires you to win, then to avoid punishment, we’d need unconventional measures. That’s why I suggested this approach."
"Wait, side quest?"
Su Cheng was startled and pressed further, "What if it demands I lose?"
Gu Ruoxue massaged her temples as if pained and sighed.
"You can just forfeit," Li Guanqi chimed in leisurely as she walked over.
Su Cheng: "..."
He continued, "And what if it demands a draw?"
"You can deliberately move a stone illegally. That’d force a draw," Li Guanqi explained.
"But I can’t pretend to understand Go when I clearly don’t," Su Cheng shook his head, sighing helplessly. "You know me—I hate that kind of thing the most."
"I actually think it wouldn’t be hard for you," Gu Ruoxue said, staring at him as if she’d already seen through his inner pretentious and chuunibyou soul.
"……"
Su Cheng fell silent, sinking into deep contemplation.
He could indeed enter a state of profound focus, a kind of harmony between mind and body. But this was a skill he’d honed through archery—what the hell did it have to do with Go?
Still, he decided to give it a try.
Closing his eyes, he gazed inwardly at the board, trying to summon the same meditative state he used in archery, willing himself to merge with the game, to become one with the pieces.
He imagined the board transforming into a vast, starry sky.
Then, he steadied his breath, picturing a legendary Go deity whispering guidance into his ear.
"Don’t force anything. Just follow your instincts."
His imaginary Go god—Li Guanqi, of course—gently reminded him from behind.
Hah. Just like in Hikaru no Go, she was practically playing for him in the early stages.
Su Cheng opened his eyes, his focus sharpening as he slipped into that elusive, almost mystical state. Slowly, he reached into the bowl of stones, pinching one between his index and middle fingers. Under the astonished gazes of Li Guanqi and Gu Ruoxue, he activated his special ability, locking his eyes onto the tengen point—the center of the board.
This move was a psychological strike!
Then, he made his play.
Clack.
The stone landed.
…And nothing happened.
He glanced up at the two girls expectantly. "So? How was my presence just now?"
They exchanged looks, then nodded in approval.
"Not bad."
"Very commanding."
Relieved by their feedback, he sighed inwardly. Guess I’ll go with this approach tomorrow.
After a few more words of advice, the two took their leave.
The moment they were gone, Su Cheng collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the board as he plotted his strategy for the next day’s… performance.
His plan was simple: replicate today’s act—enter that hyper-focused state, fix his gaze on the intended move, and activate his special ability.
Why rely on his eyes?
Because eyes conveyed intelligence!
They were a weapon of psychological warfare.
Ji Qingyi had once seen through his ocular trick without prior knowledge.
So, Si Jing would surely notice it too.
This was all just posturing—making it seem like his eyes could decipher the board, see through his opponent’s formations, attacks, and tactics.
Please don’t let this backfire spectacularly.
With that thought, he headed off to wash up and sleep.
---
Half an hour later, back in his room, he pulled out his phone and messaged Li Guanqi.
NotAnOrangeFan: What did you and the president talk about today?
He waited nervously for a reply.
A few minutes later:
Li Guanqi: Senior Gu noticed my probing. We just had a normal chat—nothing like what you were hoping for.
Su Cheng’s heart sank, but he typed back: I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way.
Li Guanqi: It’s not your fault. This situation is the result of all our actions.
Li Guanqi: Also… about this afternoon—thank you for speaking up for me. It made me happy. But please don’t do it again, okay? Or I’ll end up the villain here.
Li Guanqi: Goodnight.
………………
Su Cheng stared at his screen, stunned.
Was she talking about how I snapped at Gu Ruoxue earlier?
He scratched his head, let out a bitter chuckle, and lay back, gazing at the ceiling as his thoughts spiraled.
It was still early.
So, he downloaded a Go board software, planning to play online matches against others. After a quick registration, a prompt appeared:
"Please enter a nickname—"
Seeing that he needed to create an ID, Su Cheng—a self-proclaimed genius at naming—pondered for a moment before coming up with a four-character nickname based on his own understanding.
However, after three consecutive matches, the same thing happened every time. As soon as he placed his first stone on Tengen (the center point of the board), his opponents would angrily quit the game, refusing to play with him. This made him frown in frustration.
Undeterred, he queued up for a fourth match, only to face the same outcome.
Perplexed, he sent a message to Li Guanqi, asking what was going on.
Li Guanqi replied, "Because you're a new account, and you're playing Tengen right away. Most players would assume you're a clueless beginner and don’t want to waste their time. Besides, winning or losing against you holds no meaning. It’s just basic risk avoidance."
"I see. Get some rest early. Goodnight."
Li Guanqi: "See you tomorrow. Goodnight."
Now understanding the reason, Su Cheng abandoned the idea of online matches. Checking the time, he realized it was already late—time to bid goodnight to Ji Qingyi.
[Doesn’t Like Oranges]: "President, goodnight."
He expected her to respond with her usual cold and aloof "Mn," but this time, Ji Qingyi surprised him.
Ji Qingyi: "Come to the club tomorrow at noon."