Chapter 2: The Chief's Test

Su Weixi crouched low, shoving the black envelope to the very bottom of the mop bucket and smothering it under a soaked rag. Water dripped from the ends of her hair, splashing onto the cold tile floor with a faint, rapid *tap-tap-tap*. Her movements were practiced to a sickening degree, as if she was handling invisible dust or, perhaps, burying a secret that was about to rot. When her fingers brushed the rag, a bone-deep chill seized her, a cold that seemed to seep out from her own skeleton, mingling with the distinctive moldy smell of The Go Institute’s second basement level.

Shen Yanbai stood in the doorway of the Sparring Partner room. His long fingers tapped the doorframe twice, the sound crisp and cold as ice, echoing in the confined space. "It’s not locked. Come in."

Su Weixi wiped the water off her face. As she stood up, her knees gave a slight tremble, a combined reaction to chronic hypoglycemia and extreme tension. She didn’t dare meet Shen Yanbai’s eyes; instead, she stared at her own hands, the fingers turned pale from the cold water, the joints blooming with an unnatural purple bruise. In a low voice, she said, "Teacher Shen, I’m just the janitor here. The game is too heavy. I’m afraid I can’t bear it."

Shen Yanbai didn’t turn around. His back was ramrod straight, like an impassable glacier. He left her with just one line: "The game your mother left behind—I haven’t finished reviewing it. If you’re afraid you can’t handle it, then don’t take it."

Su Weixi took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. The sound of the storm outside seemed to be instantly sealed off into another world, leaving only the creaking of the room’s old fan. The blades grinding against the axle produced a sharp, grating noise, as if it were trying to grind her bones to dust. In the dim light, dust motes danced wildly in the beam, each grain looking like an unresolved ko threat.

The air in the Sparring Partner room was so stagnant it was suffocating. Shen Yanbai pushed a box of Go stones toward Su Weixi. On the surface of a black stone, her distorted reflection stared back, her pupils deep with an indescribable mix of fear and longing.

He spoke in a cold voice, devoid of any warmth, yet every word cut like a blade: "For this Sparring Partner session, no pleasantries. I need to verify if you have the qualification to stand at the board for the Professional Qualification Tournament again. Your psychological endurance rating last time was ‘Fail’. If you chicken out again, I will personally sign the paperwork and kick you out of The Go Institute."

Su Weixi lowered her eyes, her fingers slowly tracing the edge of a stone. The instant her fingertip touched it, a faint electric current shot through her brain. That was the initial echo of Yi Xin: Hand-Speech Realm. The surrounding noise faded instantly, replaced by a high-frequency hum, as if a thousand strings were being plucked at once.

She read the Heart Sounds left by Shen Yanbai’s last move. It wasn’t malice, but a deep, profound weariness. He was probing her, using high-pressure words to strip away all her disguises, wanting to see if she would suffer an emotional breakdown under extreme pressure that would lead to a calculation error.

"Yes." Su Weixi’s voice was steady, even carrying a hint of servile docility. "I will be careful."

Shen Yanbai sneered. He picked up a black stone and placed the first move. The position was vicious, aimed at attacking from the opening without giving any room to breathe. The *clack* of the stone landing was crisp and final, like a verdict.

"The game you lost to me three years ago, you hesitated for half a second in the mid-game. Today, I don’t want to see the same mistake." His words were like ice cones, piercing the heart, making Su Weixi’s eardrums buzz.

Su Weixi’s fingers began to tremble violently. It wasn’t fear; it was the physiological backlash of activating her golden finger. Every time she read the Heart Sounds, her nerve endings screamed alarms, her blood seemed to flow backward, bringing waves of dizziness.

Shen Yanbai frowned, his gaze locking onto her hand like a hawk’s: "Your hand is shaking like that. Are you pretending to be mystic, or are you actually scared? Su Weixi, the Go world is not a place where you can make a living by performing."

Su Weixi bit her lip, forcing down the surging cold sweat, and placed a white stone to answer. Her movement looked sluggish, but the point was extremely precise, firmly securing the real territory in the corner.

This extreme calmness contrasting with the loss of control in her fingertips created a bizarre disparity, causing a flash of confusion in Shen Yanbai’s eyes. He stopped speaking and simply placed another stone, his attack becoming more ferocious, every move carrying the malice of deconstructing her mindset. The black-and-white clash on the board intensified, like two lightning bolts tearing through a narrow sky.

The game entered the mid-phase. Beads of sweat broke out on Su Weixi’s forehead, sliding down her cheek and dropping onto her collar, blooming into a dark patch.

She closed her eyes and touched the board again. This time, she clearly caught Shen Yanbai’s hesitation regarding the shape on the left side. When he had simulated the mid-game, he had vetoed a highly destructive sacrifice line, ultimately choosing a stable but slightly mediocre defense. That suppressed "greed" remained in the resonance of the stones, like a smoldering spark.

Su Weixi opened her eyes, the corner of her mouth lifting into a faint, subtle curve. She didn’t block as usual; instead, she reversed her play, throwing a seemingly useless single stone into the black stone’s sphere of influence.

This stone, like a stone thrown to test the depth of water, instantly disrupted Shen Yanbai’s rhythm.

Shen Yanbai looked up sharply, the light in his eyes flaring: "Why this move? Did you calculate the weakness on my right side?"

Su Weixi lifted her head. Her gaze was clear but empty, and she answered in the most understated tone possible: "Teacher, I misread the coordinates. But this move, placed here, happens to fill in a liberty I missed in my calculation earlier. Are you saying I didn’t understand your Go logic just now?"

She lightly brushed off the fact of "mind-reading," packaging the mistake as "bad luck" and disguising her precision as "intuition."

Shen Yanbai stared at her for a full ten seconds before finally huffing coldly: "Hmph, luck."

He didn’t expose her, but the suspicion in his mind was growing like wild grass. How could a person with a "fail" psychological rating make such a logically defying, yet perfectly targeting response under high pressure?

Meanwhile, in the shadow of the hallway, a pair of eyes pressed against the glass door of the Sparring Partner room.

Zhou Manqing's Assistant held a discreet telephoto lens, aimed at Su Weixi’s trembling fingers. In the viewfinder, the moment the white stone landed on the board, the Assistant held his breath. The click of the shutter was jarringly loud in the silent hallway.

"Got it?" From the end of the hallway, the sound of high heels tapping on the floor approached, the rhythm brisk and dangerous.

Zhou Manqing walked to the door, tilting her head to listen, wearing a bright, harmless smile on her face, but her eyes were cold as poisoned ice.

"She’s playing dumb, or she’s hiding something," the Assistant reported in a low voice, excitement in his tone. "This level of abnormality is enough to destroy her professional reputation."

Zhou Manqing pushed the door open, the expensive scent of perfume instantly filling the room, masking the original cool wooden aroma. She looked at the stalemate on the board, then at Shen Yanbai opposite her, his expression complex. Softly, she said, "Teacher Shen, I see little sister Wei-xi is working hard. Is such high-intensity Sparring Partner practice too tiring for her? After all, she was previously ruled to have 'failed' psychological endurance."

Shen Yanbai did not stand up. He just gave Zhou Manqing a cold look, his voice low: "Zhou Manqing, Institute internal affairs are none of your business. Get out."

Zhou Manqing’s smile froze for a second, then recovered into something even sweeter, with a hint of provocation: "Why be so distant, Teacher Shen? I’m just concerned about my junior’s Go career. It’s just that... if she has some unsightly secrets, as a senior, I can’t help but remind you: Light in the Go world is earned through skill, not by hiding your clumsiness."

Shen Yanbai’s gaze turned sharp, like a blade slashing straight at Zhou Manqing: "One more step out of line, and I’ll submit the evidence of your stalking the janitorial staff directly to The Dean. Also, your matter of altering game records to take someone else’s quota—I’ve investigated it clearly."

The corner of Zhou Manqing’s eye twitched. She forced a smile and turned to leave. The sound of her high heels faded at the end of the hallway, but the invisible pressure lingered, like a net笼罩ing the entire room.

Shen Yanbai withdrew his gaze and looked back at Su Weixi: "Don’t let these small maneuvers affect you. Continue. Review that move you just played."

Su Weixi took a deep breath. A vein at her temple throbbed. The backlash from Yi Xin was intensifying, her brain aching as if pierced by needles, and double vision appearing at the edges of her field.

She forced herself to calculate the endgame, trying to find the flaw in the final strike before Shen Yanbai turned his gaze away. However, as the calculation deepened, the numbers before her began to blur, the lines twisting into a knot, as if they were spreading from the board into reality.

"Teacher," her voice grew lighter, trembling beyond suppression. "I... can’t see clearly."

Shen Yanbai frowned, about to stand up, when he saw Su Weixi’s body sway violently, collapsing softly toward the board.

Outside the door, the stalking Assistant peered through the peephole and saw this scene in horror.

Su Weixi fainted before the board. Around her were scattered several sticky notes covered in complex calculation lines and dense numbers. The handwriting was scrawled and nearly illegible, as if recording a silent breakdown.

Shen Yanbai caught Su Weixi’s slipping shoulder. When his palm touched her body, the temperature transmitted to his fingertips was abnormally cold, devoid of any vitality. He looked down at that pale face, a strand of extremely complex chill passing between his brows—not concern, but the wariness of prey countering back. The numbers on the scattered sticky notes were not ordinary Go logic deductions, but some bizarre binary code. The arrangement actually matched the underlying logic of Shen Yanbai’s personal encrypted database.

"Take her to the infirmary." Shen Yanbai’s voice was low, his command short but absolute. He bent down and picked up a sticky note stained with Su Weixi’s cold sweat, his fingertips rubbing over those manic calculation traces. A flash of barely perceptible apprehension passed through his eyes. He had originally thought this was just a psychological duel test. Now it seemed, on the back of the board, there was a trap deeper than victory or defeat.

Meanwhile, in the shadow at the end of the hallway, Zhou Manqing's Assistant was frantically deleting the blurry photos he had just taken on his phone. In that frame, at the moment Su Weixi fell, her pupils had turned a non-human grayish-white, merging with the chaotic background of numbers. The Assistant dared not think too much; he shoved the memory card deep into his collar and dialed Zhou Manqing.

"Teacher Zhou, that guy... might not be quite right." On the other end of the line, Zhou Manqing’s cold laughter filtered through. "Then let her leave her life on that board. Or take the secret down with her."

Inside the room, Shen Yanbai snapped his head up, his gaze like lightning, stabbing straight toward the shadow at the end of the hallway. He knew that from this moment on, this game was no longer just about winning or losing.