Chapter 1: The Janitor Reports for Duty

"Ex-Prodigy Returns to the Go Institute as a Janitor."

The sarcastic tag had appeared on Su Weixi’s faded cuffs at some unknown point. It didn't flutter away with her movements; instead, it clung to her like an old, unhealed wound, throbbing with a dull pain that constantly reminded her of her current humble status.

The air was thick with the mixed scent of aged pine resin and damp mildew, a smell unique to the old Go Institute. For a former champion, that fragrance felt alien and distant now.

Old Ke Jingzhi hunched over, leaning against the frame of a weathered wooden door. His cloudy, yet sharp eyes darted back and forth over Su Weixi's shoulder, his gaze hiding a complex mix of regret, scrutiny, and a long-suppressed urge to speak.

In the end, he said nothing. He just pulled a black Go stone from his robes and slapped it against his palm. *Clack.* The crisp sound was like a warning bell in the stifling room.

Su Weixi carried the heavy janitor's bucket, the metal chain clinking softly. She moved with deliberate lightness, as if the hard terrazzo floor beneath her feet were a sheet of ice ready to shatter at any moment. The laughter from the break area pierced the silence without mercy—that was the noise of the victors.

Zhou Manqing lounged in a carved rosewood chair, her posture lazy yet arrogant. Her fingers idly twirled a polished white jade Go stone. The white sheen glided over her pale fingertips, looking utterly out of place. Her gaze swept over Su Weixi with disdain, like she was looking at a dusty trinket or an insignificant ant that didn't belong on the stage.

Zhou Manqing raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling into a playful, cruel arc. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to make the air around them freeze. "Su Weixi, it's been three years since you last played. Do your hands still shake? I heard you can't even recall the move sequences from the Professional Qualification Tournament anymore. What face do you have showing up here?"

Su Weixi didn't answer. She didn't even lift her eyes to look at that face dripping with superiority. She simply grabbed the mop from the bucket, wrung it out, and began bending down to scrub the dusty tiles. Her movements were mechanical and steady, like a silent protest, or perhaps a concealment of power about to erupt.

Seeing this, Zhou Manqing’s smile deepened. She leaned forward, lowering her voice but keeping the malice clear, as if she wanted to be heard: "That spot you got back then? If I hadn't 'helped' you by altering the record and wiping out those stinking losses, you'd still be feeding chickens in the village. Now you have the nerve to come back and leech off the Institute's A/C? What audacity."

The刺耳 words were like a needle piercing the silence. Ke Jingzhi coughed violently, the sound hoarse and urgent, cutting off the sharp tongue. "Kid Su, just do your job. Don't stare at the board. The path behind the Zhou family is narrow and the waters are deep. You can't save your face, so better to back off now."

The old man’s frail voice carried a trembling plea—it was the warning of someone who had seen it all before. Su Weixi kept her eyes down, following the old man's lead without retorting. She slowly pressed the cloth in her hand against the massive cloud-patterned Go table on the central display platform.

The instant her fingertips touched the cool red sandalwood, the world went instantly quiet.

The noisy background seemed to vanish in a blink. All she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears. Deep in her mind, the sharp fragments of Heart Sounds began to tear through the silence. That was the echo of the terror Zhou Manqing had desperately suppressed three years ago when tampering with the Professional Qualification scores. That fear was like a beast trapped behind a wall, scratching frantically in the depths of Su Weixi's memory, leaving indelible marks.

She heard the masked alarm. It was the greedy rhythm of Zhou Manqing's heartbeat. It was the psychological snapshot taken when she hid the spare label behind the board's inner layer. The light, the smell, and the fleeting panic in Zhou Manqing's eyes that day were replaying in high definition in Su Weixi's mind.

Su Weixi slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze was no longer meek, nor did it shy away. It had turned deep and cold, like two blades just drawn from their sheaths. Her fingertips slid down the rough texture of the board; the touch steadied her. Her finger finally pointed to the bottom of the central display platform, where a subtle seam was hidden.

"Senior Sister Zhou," Su Weixi spoke, her voice calm as ice chips. "Since you brought up the past, maybe you should look over here."

She reached into the gap, her fingers hooking onto a brass ring behind the board's base. With a soft *click*, she pulled out a yellowed, old label. It looked glaring under the lights, with residue glue marks still visible.

"This is the spare label you swapped out for mine back then," Su Weixi held the label up, showing the back to everyone so the mark was clearly visible. "The back still has the 'Professional Qualification Tournament, Zone A' stamp on it. You didn't even bother to change the date, did you? That's a blunder, isn't it?"

Dead silence fell on the scene.

Lu Xingye, who had been holding his phone ready to livestream, nearly dropped it. His eyes went wide, staring in disbelief at Su Weixi's utterly expressionless face. Zhou Manqing, who had been brimming with superiority moments ago, turned ashen. Her arrogant posture collapsed instantly. She stared at the label, her voice beginning to shake: "Where... where did you dig that up? Su Weixi, you can't twist the facts! This is slander! Don't think you can wash your crime with this!"

Su Weixi didn't look at her distress. She didn't even glance at her again. She placed the label gently on the edge of the board, pushing it firmly so it stopped right in the center of everyone's line of sight. "The evidence is right here. Look at it yourself. If you don't buy it, you can call the police now, or go find the surveillance footage from that year."

A hurried footstep sounded, mixed with the echo of leather shoes striking the floor. Shen Yanbai walked over with a frown. His steps were steady but quick. His gaze swept the room, cold as a knife, carrying an oppressive air of no-nonsense authority. He ignored Zhou Manqing's wailing and crouched down directly to examine the old label closely.

His brow furrowed deeper. He rubbed the torn edge of the label with his fingertip, seemingly verifying its authenticity.

Whispers sprouted around them. The crowd's eyes darted back and forth between Su Weixi and Zhou Manqing, filled with shock and curiosity. Su Weixi stood aside, mop still in hand, the water stains leaving faint traces on the floor—symbolizing that order was being re-established.

Shen Yanbai’s voice was low, seeping with chill. His gaze shot at Zhou Manqing like lightning. "Hand over the evidence and cooperate with the investigation. Otherwise, you're fired tomorrow for disrupting Institute order. Understood?"

Zhou Manqing's pupils contracted sharply. Her fingers clawed at the edge of the board, knuckles turning white from the grip. She tried to retreat, but found herself backed against the cold wall, while in front of her were Shen Yanbai's eyes that seemed to see through everything. The air felt frozen, leaving only her heavy breathing and the sharp intake of breaths from the onlookers.

"Special Assistant Shen, this... this is just my personal notes. How can that be proof of a crime?" Zhou Manqing made a last-ditch attempt, her voice trembling but desperately trying to maintain a facade of calm. "Besides, Su Weixi was expelled years ago. Her testimony is invalid. How can you use a janitor's word to convict me?"

"The notes contain the correction records for that match three years ago, and your signature for privately swapping the move sequences." Shen Yanbai stood up, dusting off his hands with an elegant but unfathomably cold gesture. "Zhou Manqing, you severely underestimated the ability of Yi Xin: Listening to Hearts.

What she heard wasn't just Heart Sounds; it was the echo of the fear you can't escape in your subconscious. The ink trace on that label, according to spectral analysis, matches the special seal ink you used back then perfectly. You thought destroying physical evidence would erase the stain on your soul?"

Zhou Manqing looked as if she'd been struck by lightning. She crumpled to the floor, her carefully coiffed hair disheveled, the last shred of dignity on her face shattered completely. She looked at Su Weixi in despair, her eyes filled with incredulous hatred. "You... you devil... how dare you..."

Su Weixi still held the mop, her body turning slightly to avoid Zhou Manqing's venomous glare. Her heart was still racing, but that heightened sensitivity activated by Yi Xin: Listening to Hearts was fading, replaced by an abnormal calm. She didn't feel any thrill from exposing her opponent. Only a relieved, bone-deep exhaustion.

Every scratch on that label was proof of her old injustice. Now, it was no longer a silent stone.

"She's not lying." A frail voice came from the back of the crowd.

The onlookers turned. The Dean of the Go Institute, leaning on a cane, had stepped out. His cloudy eyes held a clear sharpness. When he looked at Su Weixi, a complex emotion flashed in his gaze. The Dean spoke slowly. "Three years ago, I suspected there was something off about that match, but I stayed silent due to Zhou Manqing's family status and the public opinion of the time.

Today, if it weren't for Su Weixi, that label would have remained buried in a warehouse corner forever."

Zhou Manqing's face went grey as death. She completely lost the ability to speak. Shen Yanbai turned to Su Weixi, his expression softening slightly but still maintaining an official stance. "Su Weixi, your performance today exceeded expectations. The Board of Directors will review your expulsion case. But until the result comes out, you are still a janitor here. After Zhou Manqing is taken away, you finish the remaining work."

Su Weixi nodded without adding a word. She turned back to the cleaning cabinet, grabbed a fresh mop, and began cleaning the stains left where Zhou Manqing had torn the label. The water spread across the floor again, but this time, Su Weixi's movements were remarkably steady.

Just then, Shen Yanbai suddenly stopped walking. He pulled a black envelope from his robe and held it out to Su Weixi.

"What?" Su Weixi didn't take it; she just kept wiping the floor.

"This is the final Go game recording of your mother, and a copy of an unpublished will." Shen Yanbai's voice was so low only the two of them could hear it. "Someone is pushing for your return. It's not just to clear your name. They want you to see certain truths buried for years. Zhou Manqing is just a scapegoat. The real 'game' has only just begun."

Su Weixi's hand froze in mid-air. Unbelievable ripples churned in the depth of her eyes. Her mother? The figure long blurred in her memory—how was she connected to this will? And why would she appear suddenly, three years after Su Weixi's expulsion?

Shen Yanbai gave her a deep look, then turned and left. The sound of his footsteps faded, leaving a heavy echo behind.

Su Weixi stared at the empty space where the envelope had been, her fingertips trembling slightly. She slowly raised her head, looking through the Institute's floor-to-ceiling window at the gloomy sky outside. A heavy rain was coming; thunder rumbled low in the clouds, like the impending roar of fate.

"So the game hasn't ended." she murmured softly. She gripped the mop handle tightly. In the depths of her eyes, a cold, sharp light quietly ignited.