Why it never ends

Hesta glanced sideways at the entrance of the coffee shop - there was still no other person in sight.

The middle-aged man took out a cigarette and said, "If you can't concentrate, I advise you not to start."

Hesta moved the latte in front of the table to one side and took the initiative to unfold the folded wooden box into a chessboard, "Sorry."

The two of them arranged the dishes respectively, and then the middle-aged man held the Black and White King in his hand, changed hands several times under the table, and then raised it in front of Hesta, "Which hand do you want?"

"Left hand."

"I go first."

The middle-aged man smiled and opened his palm, handing the Black King to Hesta.

The chess game started and there was silence in the cafe. After getting through the opening, the two played chess at a rapid pace. Whenever Hesta thought for a long time and finally made a move, the middle-aged man's next move would follow, making Hesta frown. After repeating this for many times, she finally closed her eyes and exhaled softly, so that she could temporarily escape from this tight sense of oppression.

"You are going to lose." The middle-aged man said.

Hesta glanced at the middle-aged man and then stared at the chess game again.

"Do not believe?"

"You said the same thing to Teacher Chen last time." Hesta said softly, "What's the result?"

The middle-aged man laughed and said, "Chess has a rhythm... If you can't get into your own rhythm, you will definitely lose."

"I'm just a little slower," Hesta moved the chess pieces carefully, "You don't need to be alarmist here."

"It's not that you are slow, you lack intuition."

"intuition?"

"The biggest difference between chess players is the number of chess games they have experienced. If you play too few, you will play so slowly." The middle-aged man once again pressed Hesta's hand and took his next step. "You have to practice until you have intuition...otherwise it won't be any fun to play chess with you, and your current time allocation is really a mess."

Hesta looked at the middle-aged man's chess hand with some disgust. Obviously, this subsequent move was both a form of pressure and a provocation. This couldn't be more straightforward crushing. The ground is written with pride and contempt for opponents. "What did I say before, focus, young man," the middle-aged man tapped the edge of the chessboard with his fingertips, "What are you looking at?"

Hesta immediately looked away and looked back at the chessboard.

"...God, your time allocation is not only a mess," the middle-aged man also stared at the chessboard, "You don't even know the most basic priorities. Whether it is an important step or an insignificant step, what you left is They all have the same amount of time. Do you know who can play chess like this? It’s the kind of novice who doesn’t know anything who plays chess like this.”

Hesta was angry in her heart - "I am a novice to begin with."

But then, she adjusted her breathing again. If you mess up your mind because of a few words from your opponent, then you have really fallen into the opponent's trap.

"By the way," the middle-aged man murmured in affirmation, "sometimes, wanting to win on the chessboard doesn't mean you have to step on your opponent's life every step of the way. Even if sometimes you want to win, If you don’t reach that winning point that affects the overall situation——”

"I know." Hesta lowered her head and bowed her back, holding her breath and looking at the chess game in front of her.

"Huh?" The middle-aged man's expression froze for a moment, "What do you know?"

Hesta turned his eyes upward and stared coldly at the person in front of him: "...even if you can't find the winning point, you still have a way to always make your opponent feel uncomfortable."

"Ha ha ha ha……"

After about twenty minutes, Hesta lost without any doubt. With the little impression she had, she struggled to review the ending. The middle-aged man watched from the opposite side for a while, shaking his head and sighing. Finally, he moved her hand away with a smile, and gradually started to review the first step between the two. plate.

"Wait a minute," Hesta began to turn around and rummage through her bag, "I'll take a note and write it down... okay?"

"Of course." The middle-aged man made a very elegant gesture of invitation. Hesta took out her notebook, then opened her coat and took out the red pen from the inside of her clothes - the moment she took out the pen, she saw the middle-aged man opposite shuddering from the corner of her eye.

"...What's wrong with you?" Hesta raised her head.

The middle-aged man had looked away, as if he hadn't heard what Hesta was saying. He just picked up his curly hair and inserted the second cigarette that was about to burn out in his hand into the ashtray.

Hesta glanced at the red pen in her hand, "I'm ready, you can start."

The middle-aged man smiled slightly, began to move the chess pieces, and began to explain step by step. Hesta asked questions from time to time, but the middle-aged man did not answer directly, but only made a few sentences with questions and answers. Hesta listened carefully. Some of these instructions were enlightening, and some still made her confused - but the middle-aged man obviously did not intend to make his words too clear.

"Are you still going down?" Hesta asked.

"No more," the middle-aged man picked up the coffee on the side again, "There's no point in playing chess with you... How long have you been learning this?"

"It's almost a month."

"Down every day?"

"almost."

"How long will it last?"

"One or two rounds."

The middle-aged man curled his lips and said, "That's not even close."

"At this rate, when do you think I'm worthy of playing another round with you?"

“It’s not necessary until you find your own style.”

"Style," Hestad paused for a moment, "feeling is the same thing as the intuition you just mentioned?"

"That's... more or less," the middle-aged man lit up his third cigarette, "Theoretically, everyone has a chess style and strategy that suits their own nature, but unfortunately, not everyone can find it."

"why."

"Not everyone knows who they are," the middle-aged man said with a smile, "let alone their nature."

Soon, the coffee in the middle-aged man's cup was empty. The two sat opposite each other and stopped talking. There were no visitors in the entire cafe. After two hours, Hestad took out his pen again and wrote a note. , she stood up and walked to the bar, pressing it under a glass.

"I'm leaving." Hesta turned around, "Are you still going to sit here?"

"Hmm." The middle-aged man glanced at her, "It seems they let you go."

Hesta smiled and said, "Goodbye."

After leaving the cafe, Hesta did not go far. She stopped in an imperceptible shadow and looked at the empty bar through the glass window of the cafe.

After a while, the middle-aged man came into view, and she pulled out the note that Hestad had pressed under the glass. Although Hestad couldn't see her expression, she could still feel that there was a momentary pause in the person's movements. Immediately afterwards, the middle-aged man balled up the note and stuffed it into his pocket, then turned and walked towards the depths of the coffee shop and disappeared.

From this, Hesta's guess was confirmed. Her note read——

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Katja, and I look forward to the next game. Jane."