Some time later, one day in winter, Father had finished his dinner and, as usual, planted himself down on the sofa with his cigarettes. Bluish-grey smoke soon began to billow out from his mouth and nose like a spirit exiting its mortal shell. The haze blanketed the room with a heavy, suffocating shroud. Everyone became tense and nervous, fearful even, which only provoked Father’s bad temper even more. Ah-bing turned on the TV, hoping to find a programme that would catch his attention. Once the screen flickered on, the image of a go board came into view. Black and white pieces appeared. They seemed to be scattered across a white wall in a disordered manner. A man and a woman seemed to be demonstrating various strategies. To the uninitiated it would have seemed deeply mysterious. Ah-bing, however, was addicted to go and so was drawn to the image on the television screen. I, too, enjoyed the game (mostly because of Ah-bing’s influence), but I thought Father wouldn’t be interested and would yell at him to change the channel. Ah-bing turned round to look at Father. His eyes were narrowed, his face blank; he looked to be overcome with boredom. Ah-bing asked whether or not he wanted to watch this, but Father seemed not to hear him, nor did he answer. When Ah-bing changed the channel, he told Ah-bing to go back to the go game. It seemed as though he hadn’t heard his son’s earlier question. As the go game flickered back on, Father asked Ah-bing what game it was. It was go, he said, and then explained the basic rules. Father listened to the explanation, but made no response. His face remained expressionless. He just sat there, watching the programme until it finished.