The world number two on his ruthless cannon play, his pre-game rituals, and why he believes the next generation will rewrite Xiangqi opening theory entirely.
Talking to a player at the very top of the game is a study in contrasts. There is the steel you expect, but also a surprising warmth — and a willingness to dissect their own losses that most amateurs would find uncomfortable.
We sat down for an hour that stretched to two, covering everything from opening preparation to the small superstitions that survive even at world-championship level.
On preparation
"People imagine I memorise thousands of lines," they told us, "but the real work is understanding why a move is good. Memory fails under pressure. Understanding does not."
That philosophy shapes a training routine built less on rote repetition and more on reconstructing classic games from scratch, trying to predict each move before turning the page.
On the next generation
Engines have changed everything, our subject argued — not by replacing human creativity but by raising the floor of what is considered playable. Ideas once dismissed as dubious now have to be taken seriously.
"The kids coming up have never known a world without instant analysis. They are fearless in positions that would have terrified my generation. That is going to rewrite the opening books."
What it means going forward
None of this is the final word — Xiangqi rarely offers final words. But it is a reminder that the game keeps moving, and that the players and ideas worth watching are the ones unafraid to revisit what everyone thought was settled.
We will keep following the story as it develops. In the meantime, the best way to internalise any of this is the obvious one: set up the position yourself, play it out, and see where your intuition leads.