A Turkish manuscript translated by that ahong recorded a board game like this:
You stood silently on opposite banks of the river, playing a game as vast as the world. On this enormous board, light and shadow traced out the squares, while your shadow moved among them, keeping expectation itself in constant flux.
To you, a shadow was a hole without depth, representing a possibility people called flatness. Like peacocks controlling their tail feathers with their gaze, everyone had a shadow. When you noticed them, they were like transparent gray fan ribs, instantly overlapping into a single bundle and disguising themselves as one. This sole remaining one marked the position of your next move. Until you fell, lying flat upon it, changing from one you into one you, it was almost always unsuitable for you.
There were only four kinds of pieces you could command: one that flowed, one that rolled, one that flew, and another that could only crawl. Thus, you had four devils, four angels, four arrows, four blades, and the sixteen kinds of wounds they created.
War drums beat directly against your eardrums, as light as the footsteps of a water strider walking on water, yet deafening enough to make you tremble.
Nick compared this Jiyin People game to the Chinese chess played by many people beside Houhai. The board also had a "river," called the "Chu River–Han Border." The black and red sides stood on opposite banks of the "river," and the pieces consisted of seven types: chariots, horses, cannons, pawns, guards, elephants, and generals. But if one traced its origins in detail, the guards, elephants, and cannons had been added during the Song dynasty. Japanese Shogi, meanwhile, consisted entirely of generals, along with knight pieces and lance chariots. Shogi also had promotions. Nick had failed