Dad, Please Try a Little Harder - Chapter 44

Chapter 44: Chapter 44 Are You the Reinforcement Sent by Li Zhiyi?!

Translator: Inschain Editor: Inschain

In the afternoon, Qian Quan and his father returned home from Pearl Town.

When they switched vehicles in Riverside Town, Qian Quan spontaneously decided to visit his old high school and told his father to go home without him.

Since it was a National Day holiday, the campus was fairly deserted, offering a perfect chance for a quiet stroll.

Perhaps because he had only recently graduated, Qian Quan felt familiarity rather than nostalgia while roaming the school grounds.

As he walked from the academic building toward the male dormitory, he passed by the basketball court beneath it. Someone was playing basketball, and among them was a familiar figure.

Zheng Daokai.

He was a high school classmate who had chosen to retake his college entrance exams after not getting into his desired university.

Qian Quan hurried over and upon seeing Zheng Daokai make a successful shot, clapped and cheered.

“Nice shot!”

Zheng Daokai paused for a moment, recognizing Qian Quan. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

“Really?” Zheng Daokai said in a skeptical voice. “Do you want to join us for a game?”

Qian Quan was about to decline when another player, drenched in sweat, raised his hand and said, “Take my place. I’m out of steam.”

Then he left the court.

“Come on up,” Zheng Daokai beckoned.

Left with no choice, Qian Quan stepped onto the court as a substitute.

He didn’t go all out but even at his high school skill level, he was a strong player on this court.

After finishing a game, Zheng Daokai and Qian Quan sat down to chat.

“Your skills seem to have improved a lot,” said Zheng Daokai.

“Oh, so you could tell despite my efforts to hide it,” Qian Quan replied.

“I was just kidding,” said Zheng Daokai, rolling his eyes. “But seriously, you guys in college seem to be different than we were in the third year in senior high school. It feels like there’s a wall between us now.”

“Well, you should call me ’Sir’.” Qian Quan joked.

“Get lost,” Zheng Daokai retorted.

As they chatted, Zheng Daokai suddenly asked, “Have you heard that Qian Jiamin is taking a leave of absence?”

“What?”

“Seems like you don’t know. Her mom had surgery and borrowed a lot of money. Qian Jiamin is planning to take a year off to work and repay the debt.”

Stunned, Qian Quan was at a loss for words.

Thinking that such a brilliant student who had made it into Peking University would have to pause her education like this, Qian Quan didn’t know what would happen to her later.

It was simply heartbreaking.

Yet, he realized he had no authority to comment or intervene in such matters.

Had Qian Jiamin initially asked him for a loan, he would certainly not have refused. Not only was she Ding Linlang’s roommate and one of her few good friends from high school, but as a class leader, she had always been kind to him as well.

On the day when Sun Shaokang and Song Xi publicly announced their relationship, she was the one who comforted him.

On his birthday, she not only sent him early birthday wishes but also gave him heartfelt advice.

“May your future be worry-free and your life full of joy; even if you’re swimming against the tide, may you never drift along aimlessly.”

Now that her future faced uncertainty, he genuinely wanted to offer what help he could.

After talking with Zheng Daokai for half an hour, Qian Quan decided to head back.

Before catching the bus, he took a detour to Riverside Hotel to check in on his chess buddy, Mr. Huang.

The moment Mr. Huang, who was cleaning up at chess in the hotel lobby, saw Qian Quan, he was elated. He immediately invited him for a game and delightfully lost.

“Losing has snapped me back to reality. Otherwise, I would’ve thought I was invincible.”

“Since we met today, I have something for you,” Mr. Huang said as he led Qian Quan inside.

“What is it? Just to be clear, I can’t accept anything valuable,” Qian Quan said seriously.

“It’s an old book, nothing valuable,” Mr. Huang responded with a grin.

Upon entering the room, Mr. Huang went to the tea table, opened a drawer, and took out a book as thick as a mobile phone, titled “Human Nature.”

“Take it and have a read. You can return it to me or Baiyu whenever you’re done, or keep it for yourself,” he said.

Qian Quan took the book and expressed his gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Huang. I’ll return it once I’ve finished reading.”

Mr. Huang casually waved his hand.

“I should head home now,” Qian Quan announced.

“Sure,” Mr. Huang didn’t insist on him staying. “I’ll be at Azure Bay in late October to watch Baiyu’s martial arts competition. We can play chess then if you’re free.”

“Sounds good,” Qian Quan replied.

And then he left Riverside Hotel.

Mr. Huang watched him leave and felt that a trace of puzzlement arose within him.

“Why do 1 sense something similar to that of Master Gong Xuanzhu emanating from him? Could it be that reaching the level of a chess Grandmaster also cultivates such a presence?”

“He is becoming more and more interesting.”

Once back in Windsor Town, Qian Quan immediately sought out Ding Linlang, who was busy writing, to discuss how they might assist Qian Jiamin.

“I’ve known about it for a while,” Ding Linlang wasn’t surprised, “and I’ve already advised her not to drop out of school.”

“Did she listen to you?”

“Yep,” Ding Linlang nodded.

“How did you convince her?” Qian Quan was curious.

After hesitating a bit, Ding Linlang said, “1 lent her 80,000, to be repaid after her graduation.”

“What?”

“She definitely doesn’t want you to know about this, so don’t ask her, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t she want me to know?”

Ding Linlang stared at Qian Quan for a few seconds before finally saying, “Qian Jiamin has feelings for you. Don’t you know?”

“What?” Qian Quan was genuinely stunned. “I don’t know it!”

Qian Jiamin was even more of an academic superstar than Ding Linlang!

Even geniuses have romantic feelings, huh?

And she actually had feelings for someone who was so common!

“You don’t know anything, Qian Quan,” Ding Linlang snorted.

Qian Quan was speechless.

“Enough about that. Sit on the sofa and wait for me a bit. Once I finish this chapter, let’s go for some BBQ and beers,” she said.

“Sure.”

Qian Quan lounged on the sofa and took out his phone. He opened the app “Journey of Chinese Chess” and saw that “One Nine Equals Nine” had invited him five times.

He accepted the invitation, and surprisingly, the other party was online.

Without exchanging any words, they set up their chessboard and began the game.

Predictably, it was a draw game.

“Handshake for Peace,” a golden sign read, promising fair play for all ages and genders.

Unsurprisingly, “One Nine Equals Nine” had set up the board for a second game.

Playing chess with her never really had an endgame.

Since Qian Quan had nothing better to do, he continued to play.

However, after just seven or eight moves, he felt something was off.

Had someone else taken over?

Qian Quan sat upright and his expression turned serious.

After a few more moves, he was 100% certain the player on the other end had changed.

Li Zhiyi’s chess style was sharp and tricky, coupled with tremendous computational power. But she had a stubborn streak.

Especially against an equal opponent, she tended to persevere- unyielding and relentless. She would never give up. If one route failed, she would try another.

But this “One Nine Equals Nine” played rapidly and it was so calm that it was almost aloof.

It was like an “emotionless” version of Li Zhiyi-in other words, an even stronger Li Zhiyi.

Qian Quan’s eyes brightened. He felt as though he had met the strongest opponent since the inception of chess.

The other party showed no emotions, was not influenced by traditional tactics, and, most crucially-made no mistakes!

Qian Quan felt he was performing at nearly 80% of his capability, his brain operating at full speed. Deep-seated, intricate chess strategies became increasingly clear to him.

After the 25th move, Qian Quan finally relaxed and made a brilliant move. He left a message.

“Are you the reinforcement sent by Li Zhiyi?”

The other party hesitated.

Twenty seconds later, Li Zhiyi messaged, “I concede.”

Qian Quan was taken aback and quickly replied, “Why? It’s a draw game. Just keep playing.”

Li Zhiyi said, “It conceded.”

Qian Quan asked, “Who?”

Li Zhiyi answered, “My reinforcement, ‘Two Times Nine.

Qian Quan asked, “Is it an Al?”

Li Zhiyi replied, “Yes, it’s still in training. It’s better than me, but not as good as you.”

Shaking his head, Qian Quan chuckled and marked the game as a draw from his advantageous position. “It might not be better than you, just more level-headed,” he replied.

Li Zhiyi asked, “Would you like to help me train it? It’s a quick learner.”

Recalling the Al chess player in the Go world, Qian Quan became somewhat intrigued. He wondered what it would be like once fully trained.

He replied, “Sure, let’s look into it another day. I have some Al-related questions to ask you as well.”

Li Zhiyi said, “When the holiday is over, I’ll come see you.”

Qian Quan said, “Okay.”

The interaction ended abruptly at that point.

Qian Quan had grown accustomed to Li Zhiyi’s mannerisms: no greetings when showing up, no goodbyes when leaving.

“Linglang, what do you think the future of Al holds for human civilization?” Qian Quan asked on a whim.

It will likely replace many industries but also provide new opportunities and directions for humanity,” Ding Linlang responded offhand.

Qian Quan looked at the girl writer whose fingers danced over the keyboard and mused aloud.

“I wonder if there will be an Al tool in the future that can accurately and skillfully convert text into images, even videos, and make it accessible to everyone. People could then use it to create serialized comics and videos. It would operate under a ‘first free, then paid’ model, similar to online literature.

“For example, your current new book could simultaneously be adapted into comics, animated series, or even live-action dramas without worrying about being heavily modified, thus staying authentic or original.”

Ding Linlang paused and thoughtfully replied, “Sure, current Al will eventually evolve to that level, but it’s hard to say when.

“But think about it: your vision would render many people jobless. The advancement of technology should also adhere to the developmental rules of human society, shouldn’t it?”

Qian Quan nodded, “Nevertheless, I still believe that we’ll see a time when everyone can create comics and short videos.”

Ding Linlang said, “Perhaps, but I suspect the platform would face even more regulation issues than online literature does now.”

At this point, online writer “Forest Gazer” caught wind of the hype, or perhaps showed signs of stress from scrutiny.

Qian Quan said, “Weil, they could always set up some content rules, right? Even if there’s an adult version, it could be limited to those 22 years old or above. And maybe restrict the usage to one hour per day.”

“Trust me, more than 90% of adults won’t even use up the hour. They’ll probably give up on creating within 20 minutes, maybe even start contemplating a harsh report.”

Ding Linlang said, “You seem quite experienced in this area.”

Qian Quan replied, “What experience do 1 have? Don’t make things up. You’re defaming me…”

Ding Linlang laughed..