{Chapter: 154 Cui Susu: Brother Lin Yuan, add me as well!}
To be honest, when Cui Yunrong first proposed the chess match, he never once believed that Lin Yuan could actually beat him.
He hadn't even expected Lin Yuan to last longer than thirty minutes at the table. At best, he thought the young man might put up a bit of resistance, maybe make a few decent moves, and then eventually lose with some grace.
In truth, Cui Yunrong's challenge was partly a playful test—and partly an excuse to show off. He wanted to display a bit of elder pride and demonstrate his lifelong mastery of the game in front of a younger generation.
But what happened next caught him completely off guard.
From the very first move, Lin Yuan displayed a level of composure and precision that instantly unsettled the old man. His opening wasn't flashy or aggressive, but it carried the unmistakable air of long-term strategy. Every move Lin Yuan made thereafter flowed naturally from the last, weaving a trap so subtle and seamless that by the time Cui Yunrong noticed it—he was already stuck in a dead-end.
Checkmate.
That was round one.
And then it happened again.
And again.
And again.
Seven times in a row, Cui Yunrong—a man who had been playing chess for most of his life and was widely regarded as the best player in the local community—was completely and utterly defeated. Not once. Not twice. But seven consecutive times.
"Again!" Cui Yunrong exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and frustration.
He couldn't accept it. His pride as a lifelong chess enthusiast refused to believe he had been bested so easily. In his circle of friends, no one could beat him. He'd long enjoyed his status as a neighborhood chess master—how could this young man, barely half his age, destroy him so thoroughly?
He wasn't the only one in shock.
Cui Susu, who had been sitting quietly nearby, could hardly believe her eyes. At first, she had assumed Lin Yuan had won the first match by pure luck. Her grandfather was an elite-level chess player, after all—known for his sharp intuition and deep understanding of the game.
But then came the second match. Then the third. By the fourth round, any lingering doubts about "luck" had vanished. Lin Yuan was dominating the board with clinical precision, each round ending faster than the last.
By the seventh match, not even five minutes had passed before Cui Yunrong was again checkmated.
The speed of the games, combined with the utter hopelessness of his positions, left the old man's hands trembling slightly. His fingers twitched as he hovered over the pieces, unsure what move could possibly save him.
He wasn't playing badly—not at all. In fact, his moves were textbook perfect, filled with all the wisdom he had accumulated over decades of play. But Lin Yuan wasn't playing at an "advanced" level. His skill transcended that. He was on an entirely different plane of play.
Cui Susu, watching intently, found herself looking at Lin Yuan with growing admiration.
This man was handsome, composed, and graceful—and now, she realized, also brilliant. His mastery of chess only made him more alluring in her eyes. Each quiet move on the board, each calm smile, made him seem like a character straight out of a romantic movies.
In truth, there was nothing wrong with Cui Yunrong's skills. He was, by any measure, an excellent chess player. But Lin Yuan's abilities had already reached the divine level—the kind of strategic thinking that bordered on the supernatural.
Then came the eighth match.
Finally, after seven crushing defeats, Cui Yunrong managed to win.
He jumped up from his seat in delight, a childlike joy spreading across his face. "Haha! I did it!"
But his celebration was short-lived.
He raised his head and looked across the board—only to see Lin Yuan's calm face and the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips.
In that moment, Cui Yunrong's expression froze.
He understood instantly.
That smile—it wasn't one of defeat. It wasn't a surprise. It was an acknowledgment.
Lin Yuan had let him win.
And not subtly, either. Once the board was reviewed in hindsight, it was clear the eighth game had been rigged—Lin Yuan had made several deliberate mistakes that no true master would ever commit. Even an amateur would have questioned those moves.
The old man stood in stunned silence.
He had issued only a single challenge—survive for thirty minutes without losing. He never expected to play more than one game, yet Lin Yuan had quietly humored him, round after round, even without once mentioning the Ink Plum Blossom painting.
And then, finally, Lin Yuan had let him win—giving the old man the dignity of ending on a high note.
That simple act of kindness touched Cui Yunrong more than any victory.
He took a deep breath, then smiled bitterly. He clasped his hands together in a respectful salute and said, "Thank you, Little Friend Lin. Truly. I must admit, I underestimated you. I came here thinking I could show off a little before a younger man, but in the end, I couldn't even last half an hour myself. How ridiculous of me to suggest that you had to endure for thirty minutes to win. It turns out I was the one who couldn't hold out."
He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "Your chess skills are extraordinary—on a level I've never encountered before. You've given me a valuable lesson today."
Lin Yuan responded with a gentle smile. "Old Master Cui, you're too kind. You're a formidable opponent. I was lucky today."
But everyone present knew Lin Yuan wasn't relying on luck.
Cui Yunrong turned to his granddaughter and said, "Susu, go back to the house and bring out Wang Mian's Ink Plum Blossom. It belongs to Little Friend Lin now."
But Cui Susu shook her head firmly. "No. I'm not going."
She didn't want to leave Lin Yuan's side, worried that he might vanish the moment she turned her back. There was something mysterious and fleeting about him—like a cloud passing across the sky. She wanted to hold on to this moment a little longer.
Still, she made arrangements.
She sent a message to someone from the residence to bring the painting over instead.
A short time later, a soldier in full military uniform arrived, holding a carefully wrapped scroll.
He handed it respectfully to Cui Yunrong, then offered a salute before quietly departing.
Lin Yuan wasn't surprised in the slightest by the soldier's deference.
Cui Yunrong was not just an ordinary elder. He had once held a high-ranking position in the military and had earned great respect over the years. Even in retirement, his name still carried weight, and several of his sons continued to serve with distinction in various military branches.
In Yanjing, the Cui family was considered a formidable presence—one of those names that carried weight in political, military, and social circles. Among them, Cui Yunrong stood like a towering figure, a man whose influence made others instinctively lower their heads in deference. Within his domain, he was not just respected, but revered, almost like a patriarch whose words carried the weight of law.
This time, however, Cui Yunrong was in high spirits. With a wide smile on his face, he carefully unrolled a precious scroll and presented it to Lin Yuan.
"Haha, take a look," Cui Yunrong said with obvious pride. "Isn't this the 'Ink Plum Blossom' by Wang Mian that you were interested in?"
The moment Lin Yuan laid eyes on the painting, a spark lit up in his gaze.
The brushwork was exquisite—graceful yet forceful. The distribution of the plum blossoms followed a rhythm that only a true master could orchestrate. The longer branches arched gracefully with sparse buds, while the shorter ones were densely populated with blossoms, giving the painting both balance and vitality. The stamens were vivid and full, and the petals, shaped in elegant hooks, carried a minimalist grace that spoke volumes without excess.
"What a masterpiece!" Lin Yuan exclaimed in genuine admiration. "This plum blossom painting… it's nothing short of breathtaking."
"Haha, since you like it that much, then it's yours!" Cui Yunrong said cheerfully. Without hesitation, he rolled the painting back up and handed it directly to Lin Yuan.
Lin Yuan accepted it with a smile, though his conscience tugged at him. "Old Master Cui, how about I transfer fifty million yuan to you? A painting of this value… I would feel guilty accepting it without offering anything in return."
Upon hearing this, Cui Yunrong's expression instantly turned serious. "Little Friend Lin, are you trying to embarrass this old man?" he said with a slight frown. "I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. If I say that you win the painting through chess, then it's yours—no strings attached. Don't insult my word by offering money."
"Yes! Brother Lin Yuan, just accept it!" Cui Susu added firmly from the side.
Lin Yuan smiled sheepishly. Though he still felt a bit uncomfortable accepting such a valuable gift, he decided not to argue further.
Just then, Cui Yunrong spoke up again, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Actually, Little Friend Lin… I do have one request. Not really a condition, just something I hope you might consider."
"Oh? What is it?" Lin Yuan asked with interest.
The old man chuckled in slight embarrassment. "You see, I've been playing chess for decades, mostly with some of my old comrades. We're always back and forth—wins and losses, nothing unusual. But lately… well, they've been getting the upper hand more often. I have a feeling they've picked up some new tricks. Since your chess skills are clearly on another level, perhaps you could give this old man a few pointers? Help me regain my edge?"
Lin Yuan laughed. "That's no problem at all. I'd be happy to."
Without hesitation, he opened up the chessboard and began explaining some of the more subtle flaws in Cui Yunrong's strategies. He walked the old man through common traps and advanced tactics, explaining them in a simple yet effective manner.
Cui Yunrong listened intently, nodding continuously as he finally began to understand where he had been going wrong all this time. His enthusiasm was evident—like a student being enlightened after years of stagnation.
Cui Susu, watching from the side, was speechless. She had never seen her proud grandfather so attentively listen to someone, especially a younger man. Her admiration for Lin Yuan only deepened.
Her father, even as a deputy commander in the military, was often shut down at home by her grandfather. Yet here was Lin Yuan, explaining things, and Old Master Cui was nodding in agreement like an obedient pupil.
Following the lesson, Lin Yuan took the time to write some notes and presented them to the elderly gentleman with a smile. "That should help a little. But chess is a deep game—if you want to go further, we'll need more time. How about this: Old Master Cui, add me on WeChat. If you ever want to play or discuss strategies, I'll be happy to chat."
"Excellent idea!" Cui Yunrong quickly pulled out his phone and scanned Lin Yuan's QR code.
Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Cui Susu chimed in with a grin. "Brother Lin Yuan, let me add you too!"
"Sure!" Lin Yuan replied, and let her scan his code as well.
A moment later, he smiled and confirmed, "Alright, Old Master Cui and Susu, I've added you both."
Cui Yunrong chuckled heartily and said, "Little Friend Lin, I must say, I feel a certain destiny between us. There's something familiar about you, like we've known each other for years. In the realm of chess, you could even be considered half my teacher."
He paused, then continued with a sincere smile, "Normally, I don't like people calling me 'Old Cui'—makes me feel ancient. But when you say it, I don't mind at all. In fact, I rather like it. How about I call you Xiao Yuan from now on?"