Weiqi Warriors

As Ying sat in history class, he thought about the games of Go he had played with Grandpa Jong on Sunday afternoon. His teacher, Mr. Soo, talked about Chinese Warlords and ancient land battles. He drew several maps on the chalkboard, showing the movement of foot soldiers marching across China.
“During the Age of the Three Kingdoms, three emperors ruled different parts of China. They were called the Shu, the Wei and the Wu Kingdoms. Their empires lasted over sixty years. Eventually, these great leaders were taken over. Does anyone know why?”
Several children raised their hands.
“They underestimated the enemy?” answered one student.
“That’s close,” said Mr. Soo.
“Then what happened to them?” asked Ying.
“The Wu and the Shu joined kingdoms and battled against the Wei. They fought with spears and swords. These battles were bloody and many men died in these battles. Many peasants who weren’t even fighting were forced from their homes.”
“Why were they forced from their homes?” asked Ying.
“Battles fought in one part of China greatly influenced the rest of the kingdom.”
That afternoon Ying went to Yum Cha. As he walked through the streets of Beijing, he thought about the Three Kingdoms. He also thought about playing Go.
“Hello Mr. Li. Can I have some tea with milk?”
“Coming right up, Master Ying.”
Ying retrieved the bowls holding the black and white stones from the shelf and set one on each side. He took turns placing one black stone and then a white stone, playing Go by himself.
“You don’t want to put that there,” said Bo, who had been watching Ying make each move, then study the board afterwards.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re concentrating on one part of the board and ignoring the rest.”
“Each battle fought on the board greatly influences the rest of the board,” said Ying.
“Where did you learn that?” asked Bo.
“Our teacher was talking about the Three Kingdoms.”
“That’s true, but no battle is so important that you ignore the rest of the battlefield,” said Mr. Li and he placed Ying’s tea with milk on the table.
Bo sat down in one of the chairs and played against Ying. Mr. Li watched Ying and acted as his coach. Even with Mr. Li’s help, Ying lost.
“It’s okay. The game of Go is not learned in one day, one week, or one year. It takes a lifetime to master.”
“Would you like to play again?” asked Ying.
“Of course,” said Bo. They collected their stones and began another game
“Not there,” said Mr. Li. “Remember the battle is not always important as the war.”
Ying sighed as he investigated the board. “If I put this black stone here, would that be better?”
“Now you’re getting it,” said Bo.
“Go takes great patience,” said Mr. Li as he carefully moved Ying’s stone into a new position. “If you put the black stone here, you have control over these four spaces over here.”
“And a lot of thinking,” said Ying.
“Did your history teacher talk about Guan Yu?”
“I think I remember the name, but I’m not sure.”
“Guan Yu was a great warrior during the Three Kingdoms. He understood that every troop movement was important.”
Ying and Bo continued playing as Mr. Li showed Ying how to place his stones to win the battles and the war. Ying studied each move Mr. Li made to the black stones. Ying placed the last stone and then counted his points. He had beaten Bo, but only with Mr. Li’s help.
“Let me try again,” said Ying.
“Let me get your mind off Go for awhile,” said Mr. Li. He led Ying to the back of the tea house. Just outside the back door there sat a bicycle with two seats.
“Where did you find it?”
“I took two separate bicycles and welded them together. Then I assembled the cranks and pedals with help from a friend who works at the bicycle store.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s a surprise for your Grandfather’s birthday tomorrow,” said Mr. Li.
“Really?”
Mr. Li nodded. “It’s not quite ready. I need to adjust the steering. Would you like to help me take it for a test drive?”
Ying nodded. Everyone watched Ying and Mr. Li as they pedaled through the streets of Beijing. Mr. Li turned the handle bars and the front wheel wobbled slightly. He slowed the bike and got off.
“I think we’d better walk it back to the tea house,” said Mr. Li.
When they arrived at the tea house, Ying held the front tired between his legs and held the handle bars as Mr. Li used a monkey wrench to tighten them.
“That’s better,” said Mr. Li.
“Can we test drive it again?”
“Of course,” said Mr. Li.
They rode down the streets on the bicycle again. Mr. Li piloted the bicycle through the evening traffic as Ying rode behind him. Mr. Li made sure the handle bars were fastened tightly as he made each turn. They rode up a tall hill then raced down the other side, coasting the rest of the way to Yum Cha Tea House.
They put the bike away and entered the rear door of the tea house. Ying returned to the Go table, where Bo was playing Go with Grandpa Jong.
“What have you two been up to?” asked Grandpa Jong.
“Nothing,” answered Ying. Both Ying and Mr. Li’s face were flushed and red from the exercise.
“Can I play next?” asked Ying.
“Actually you can play for me right now. I have some work to finish up behind the counter,” said Bo.
Ying took Bo’s place and investigated the board. He was eager to play his grandfather now that he knew the secret of Go.
“Who’s turn?”
“It’s yours,” said Grandpa Jong. Mr. Li stood behind Grandpa Jong, watching Ying. Ying reached into his wooden bowl and pulled out a black stone. He carefully put it between two patches of stones on the board. As he looked up, Mr. Li shook his head.
Grandpa leaned his head in one hand, tapping his fingers against the side of his face. He was deep in thought. He picked up a white stone and placed it next to the black stone.
Ying frowned, then tucked his feet under his body as he adjusted his position in the chair. He tilted his head to one side and looked at the white stone next to his black stone. He immediately placed another black stone on the table, on the other side of the white stone. With each successive move, Mr. Li shook his head.
After the game was over, they counted their stones. Grandpa Jong won again. This time, Ying scored less than he had in every game on Sunday afternoon.
“What did I do wrong?”
“When you placed the black stone in the middle of the board, you left him alone. You paid too much attention to the war and not enough attention to the battles.”
“But you said...”
“I said no battle is so important that you ignore the rest of the battlefield. But the entire battlefield is not so important that you ignore each battle,” said Bo.
“Before it was called Go, it was called “Weiqi,” said Mr. Li.
“What does Weiqi mean?”
“Game of Surroundment. When you placed your black stone in the center, you ignored two larger islands of stones. You surrounded one stone, but you left many others open to attack.”
Weiqi is such a hard game,” sighed Ying.
“Like a general, you must concentrate on many things at once. They say Weiqi was invented by soldiers who used stones to represent warriors in battle,” said Mr. Li.
“I tried my best to concentrate,” said Ying.
“Would you send a soldier out to battle alone?” asked Mr. Li.
“No.”
“When you put that black stone in the center of the board, you sent him to battle alone. Your grandfather allowed you to surround one of his pieces. Most players would have secured one of the islands of stones while you were worried about the empty center.”
“I see what you are saying now.”
“Balance, Master Ying. Everything is balance,” said Bo.
“Grandpa, do you want to play again?” asked Ying.
“Not tonight, Ying. Your mother and father are probably wondering where you and I are. Grandma Mei is cooking dinner tonight.”
“Why is Grandma Mei cooking?”
“Did you forget that tomorrow is my birthday?”
“Of course not.”
Then let’s hurry home so we don’t miss dinner.”
“Grandpa, they won’t start dinner without us,” said Ying.
“Probably not, but you never know,” said Grandpa Jong.
They said goodbye to Mr. Li and his son and went home. The smell of boiled eels and long noodles filled the air. Ying and Grandpa Jong ate eels and long noodles, both symbols of luck and a long life.
Grandma Mei and Ying’s mother shared childhood stories about Grandpa Jong. Grandma Mei shared the story about when she first met Grandpa Jong. Grandpa Jong worked for the water department with Grandma Mei’s brother, Loo. Loo brought Grandpa Jong home and Grandma Mei could not wait to see him again. She begged her brother to bring Jong home again.
Finally, Grandma Mei went to a New Year’s celebration with her older brother. Grandpa Jong was there, too. As they ate and celebrated Grandpa Jong’s birthday one day early, Ying thought about the two-seat bicycle. He hoped Grandpa Jong liked the present his old friend Mr. Li made for him.

Yum Cha Tea House

At the end of a busy street in Beijing sat a tea house named “Yum Cha.” Yum Cha means “drink tea.” This tea house was owned by Mr. Li, who ran it with his son, Bo. They opened the store early in the morning for the businessmen and kept it open late into the night for University students.
Often, Ying Liu would go to Yum Cha with Grandpa Jong to meet Grandpa’s helpful and loyal friend, Pu Li. Grandpa Jong visited the tea house often, drinking tea and playing Go with Mr. Li.
Ying and Grandpa Jong walked down the crowded streets of Beijing from their tiny house on the hill to Yum Cha. looked at one tall building after another. Ying wondered what people inside the buildings were doing. Grandpa Jong would always hold Ying’s hand very tightly to keep from losing the daydreaming boy.
“Grandpa Jong?”
“Yes Ying?”
“Do you think I’ll work in one of these tall buildings one day?”
“If you want, yes. Do you want?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Then you will. Whatever you want you can have, if you work hard enough.”
Yum Cha sat in a crowded corner, between an old apartment building and an auto repair shop. The store front was plain, with white vinyl and large glass windows. To anyone casually passing by, they wouldn’t think there was much of anything inside. From the outside, it just looked like any other “family” shop.
Once Ying stepped inside, it looked like something completely different. Ceiling fans slowly circled around high above Ying’s head. To the right, there was a row of tables for two. To the left, Mr. Li fixed rice noodles and dim sum for customers while his son Bo brewed tea and operated the cash register.
“Jong! Hey old buddy!” Mr. Li shouted from behind the counter.
“Hey Pu! Could you use some help?” asked Grandpa Jong.
“Always,” answered Mr. Li.
“Grandpa Jong grabbed an apron and walked around to the back of the counter. He spoke with Bo, then prepared trays of tea and served customers seated at the tables.
“Ying?”
“Yes, Grandpa?”
“Can you clean dishes off the tables for Mr. Li?”
“Yes, Grandpa.”
Ying grabbed an empty plastic tub and filled it with dirty dishes. He unloaded the dirty dishes into the sink and filled the empty tub again. After he cleaned the dishes from the tables, he took a wet rag and cleaned the table tops.
Customers continued coming through the front door of Yum Cha Tea House. Ying and his Grandpa worked for a good part of the afternoon, fixing tea and cleaning the tables.
“Please take a seat Jong,” said Mr. Li.
“Are you sure?”
“You’re my guest,” insisted Mr. Li.
Grandpa Jong and Ying found one of the Go tables next to the bamboo stalks at the front window. The Go tables were marked with gridlines so people could play Go while they sipped on their tea.
Soon, Mr. Li brought a teapot out to their table. Mr. Li poured Chai tea into Grandpa Jong’s teacup while Grandpa Jong tapped on the table with a finger. Grandpa Jong stopped tapping and Mr. Li stopped pouring. He then set the teapot beside Grandpa Jong’s teacup. Grandpa Jong turned his hand over and rapped on the table with a bent knuckle.
“Where did tapping the table come from?” asked Ying.
“It’s a very old custom, Ying,” said Grandpa.
“A very old custom indeed,” said Mr. Li. “When the Emperor traveled among the peasants, he would travel incognito.”
“Incognito?”
“In secret, so nobody would know it was him. His servant would pour him a cup of tea. As he tapped his finger, his servant filled his cup. When he stopped, his servant stopped. Then the Emperor would pour a cup of tea for his servant, since no man is to pour his own cup of tea. The servant wanted to bend down in front of the Emperor to show his respect.”
“But that would give away the identity of the Emperor,” said Ying.
“Yes, it would,” answered Grandpa Jong.
“So, that’s why you knocked on the table?”
“Yes, our bent fingers represent a sort of bow. A sign of mutual respect.”
Mr. Li opened a container of milk and set it in front of Ying Liu. “I brought you a container of milk.”
“I think I would like some tea.”
“I don’t know that you will like it.”
“Grandpa has let me try his. I think it will be okay.”
“I’ll make a special tea just for you,” said Mr. Li.
“Can I have some tea with milk?”
“As you wish, Master Ying.”
As Mr. Li fetched a cup of tea for Ying, Ying watched people enjoying their tea. Many couples sat at the tables. Some were businessmen, some were dates, and still others were family members: a mother and daughter, two sisters, or even a boy and his grandfather.
“How long have you know Mr. Li?” asked Ying.
“All my life it seems,” answered Grandpa Jong.
“What do you mean?”
“I first met Mr. Li when I was just about your age. My father brought us to Beijing from Shanghai. I was very scared.”
“You were scared?” asked Ying.
“Of course I was scared. I left everything in Shanghai – friends, family, and school. One of the first people I met in Beijing was Mr. Li. He sat in front of me in school.”
Just then, Mr. Li returned with a cup of milk tea for Ying. As he poured the cup, Ying tapped his fingers on the table, just as his Grandpa Jong had done before.
“You were best friends in grade school?”
“Far from it. We never talked. My best friend was named Kee Fung.”
“Oh, Kee Fung. There’s a name I have not heard in a very long time,” said Mr. Li.
“How did you become friends?”
“Once, I was in a grocery store with Kee and he wanted me to steal a candy bar.”
“Did you?”
“Of course not. But Kee stuffed his pockets with candy bars.
”When the shopkeeper yelled at him, we all ran. The shopkeeper chased us out of the store, but didn’t catch us. Later, I returned to the store and the shopkeeper decided he was going to tell the police.”
“What happened?”
“The shopkeeper was Pu Li’s father. Pu had seen the whole thing and he stood up for me. I ended up working at the grocery store with Pu. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“What happened to Kee?”
“I don’t know what happened to him. He got in trouble at school and was expelled. After that, we never saw him again. Mr. Li was the best thing that happened to me.”
“No, Jong. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“What did he do?” asked Ying.
“He was the one who helped me open Yum Cha. I was working at my father’s grocery store and I wasn’t doing very well. There where groceries to order, inventory to count. It was very hard work.”
Grandpa Jong nodded. “Very hard work indeed. Mr. Li was unhappy, so I convinced him to try something he liked. He said he always wanted to open a tea store and restaurant.”
“Your grandfather would work all day in the steampipe factory, making pipes. After work, he’d come to the tea house and help me run the store.”
“Friendship is very important, Ying. Without each other, we would not be where we are. We build our friendship every day,” said Mr. Li.
Mr. Li winked at Ying and returned to his work behind the counter. Ying walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out a small tin box. It was filled with black and white stones for playing Go. Ying shook the box and smiled at his grandfather.
As usual, Grandpa Jong used the white stones and Ying used the black stones. They took turns placing their stones until the table was covered.
“I lost again,” said Ying.
“I’ve been playing my whole life. You’ve only been playing for a few years. Don’t worry, one day you’ll beat me and I’ll say ‘I lost again.’”
“I guess,” said Ying.
“My grandfather used to always beat me. You know what he said afterwards?”
“Don’t worry, one day you’ll beat me and I’ll say ‘I lost again.’”
“Did you ever beat him?”
“I don’t think so. He was a very good Go player.”
“Didn’t you want to give up?”
“Never. I always looked forward to the next time we played, win or lose. It was being with my grandfather that mattered most, not who won and who lost.”
Ying gathered the black stones and put them into a bowl. “Do you want to play again?”
“Do you?”
“Of course I do,” said Ying.
They played Go all afternoon long as they enjoyed their tea. They played eight games and Grandpa Jong won eight games in a row. Each time, Grandpa Jong would reassure Ying.
“Do you want to play again?” asked Ying.
“Not today, it’s getting late.”
“I feel a win coming on,” said Ying.
“Then I definitely don’t want to play again,” laughed Grandpa Jong.
Ying gathered the stones and put them into a small leather bag. He placed them on the shelf and they said goodbye to Mr. Li and Bo. They walked through the streets of Beijing. When their house appeared at the top of the hill, Ying raced to the front door. Grandpa Jong came along soon afterwards.
“How was your day?” asked Ying’s father.
“We played Go,” said Ying.
“How did you do?” asked Ying’s father.
“I lost eight times.”
“Don’t worry, one day you’ll win.”
Ying laughed, then washed his hands and got ready for dinner. He wasn’t worried about winning. He had gotten to spend an entire day with Grandpa Jong and nothing could be better.