An Qingyu walked to the chessboard and lowered his head to gaze at the scattered pieces, seemingly lost in thought.
"What? Has your soul recovered from its injuries?"
Lin Qiye's voice came from inside the house. He pushed open the door and looked at An Qingyu standing before the chessboard.
Naturally, Lin Qiye had not been resting. At his current realm, unless his soul had been wounded like An Qingyu's, he did not need sleep to recover. He had merely been sitting in meditation inside because he had devoted all his focus to the Seraph avatar.
The moment he heard An Qingyu get up, he immediately returned part of his consciousness.
He needed to interact with An Qingyu as much as possible. Only then could he learn more intelligence.
An Qingyu did not look up at him. He merely stared at the chessboard and slowly said, "You wanted to imitate my style of play... unfortunately, you can only imitate it to seventy percent."
"Is that so?"
Lin Qiye walked over and sat beside the board, waving his hand to return all the pieces to their containers. "You're right. I'm not you, after all. No matter how closely I imitate you, I can only copy the form... Rather than playing against the you in my imagination, it would be simpler to face the real thing."
An Qingyu spoke calmly. "We've faced each other many times already, haven't we?"
"Those games in the courtyard in Beijing don't count as real contests. Your thinking was obstructed at the time... As for that game in the asylum, we both knew what its purpose was, so that doesn't count either. By that logic, we've never truly played each other."
An Qingyu glanced at him. After hesitating for a moment, he finally sat down across from