Yin Guo’s current intensive training was in preparation for this year’s 9-Ball World Championship.
Over thirty players were participating in the training, and several national team coaches had arrived as well. Lin Lin, serving as a practice partner, was stationed at the base for the entire duration.
Lin Yiyang dropped Yin Guo off outside the main gate.
To make it easier for them to talk, he turned off the engine. From the front windshield, one could see two people sitting inside, though their faces were obscured. Just then, Lin Lin drove across the road and entered the base right before his eyes.
Lin Yiyang’s car hadn’t had its temporary plates processed yet and had never been on the road before. Naturally, Lin Lin didn't recognize it and didn't give the vehicle a second glance.
He thought about flashing his high beams to get her attention and chat for a bit, but then decided against it.
"Why didn't you call out to her?" Yin Guo asked as she sat in the car, pinning up her long hair.
He didn't seem to mind. "It’s not like we won’t see each other again."
Speaking of this group of friends he had grown up with, she was truly envious. "You all have such a great bond, just like real siblings. Bei Cheng is managed entirely like a club—survival of the fittest. It’s the same for the students and the coaches."
Lin Yiyang smiled but said nothing. He habitually stroked the back of her neck; there were wisps of hair there, and the skin was tender and soft to the touch.
Tickled by his touch, she brushed his hand away, her dark, bright eyes reflecting only him. "Lin Yiyang?"
He hummed in response.
With the engine off, the air conditioning had stopped. The air was still, and naturally, the unique scent of the two of them became much more concentrated.
"It seems like after getting married, there are a lot of arguments," she said, thinking of her former sister-in-law.
When her sister-in-law was in her postpartum recovery month at home, Yin Guo happened to be on winter break. The entire month was filled with various grievances—arguing over who changed the diapers, what brand of formula to use, whether the mother should work in the future, and so on. Her sister-in-law was financially and personally independent; she had the divorce papers written before the month was even up. She took the child and remarried within a year.
The people around Yin Guo were practically an encyclopedia of divorce and remarriage, featuring every variety imaginable.
Lin Yiyang replied, "Every person is different."
"What if we just never get married?" she hypothesized. "If the feelings are good, we stay together. If they aren't, marriage won't help anyway."
Before Lin Yiyang came into her life, she had imagined things this way: playing pool, competing, traveling, and having a boyfriend to keep each other company—someone who, like her, had his own busy life and wouldn't interfere with her matches and training.
Especially seeing her family's opinion of him, she didn't want him to keep running into walls. As long as they didn't marry, her family couldn't really control them.
Lin Yiyang rested his left hand on the steering wheel, the streetlights casting a glow over his short hair. He seemed to be seriously considering her words, but then he suddenly pulled her wrist to his waist, pressing it below his belt line.
Though the light in the car was dim, Yin Guo’s face still flushed. She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it firmly.
"Is there anything here you haven't seen?" Lin Yiyang said with a low laugh. "As for me, whether you want me or not—that’s for you to decide."
Outside, the streetlights shone through the front windshield.
With one hand on the wheel and the other holding hers, he gazed at her from her left side in the ambient light. He didn't let her go for a long time.
The training period was long; once he let go, they wouldn't see each other for at least two weeks.
Yin Guo was also loath to leave him, but they were already at the gate. People from the 9-ball world were coming and going constantly. It wouldn't be good if they were seen, and she was even more afraid of it reaching her family's ears.
"I'm really going now," she said.
"Stay a bit longer," he said. "Two minutes."
***
By the time Lin Yiyang returned to his pool hall, Jiang Yang had just finished showering. Bare-chested, he pulled out a drafted letter of intent to purchase property and tossed it onto the green pool table. "Take a look."
"Haven't I seen it already?" He had seen the electronic version before returning to China.
"It’s a big deal, after all. Look it over one more time." Jiang Yang perched his gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, his eyes peering at him from behind the lenses. "If it were up to me, I’d still provide the lion's share, and you’d contribute less."
Lin Yiyang propped one hand on the felt tabletop and waved the other at him. "Even brothers should keep clear accounts."
Jiang Yang laughed. "The bond between us is closer than if we shared a mother."
"Then all the more reason to keep the accounts clear. There shouldn't be any impurities that could affect our relationship," Lin Yiyang said, flipping through the agreement. "We’re adults; you should understand this better than anyone. Good friends don't touch money, and those who touch money don't stay good friends."
the two looked at each other.
Jiang Yang sighed sincerely. "You’ve changed, Little Junior Brother. You’re truly different from when you were a kid."
Lin Yiyang took the pen from Jiang Yang’s hand, flipped to the last page of the contract, and pointed to a spot. "Here?"
"Yes. Six copies in total, all need to be signed."
"Bring them here," he said.
He signed them all decisively, stacked the six contracts together, and pushed them toward Jiang Yang.
Under the light, between the two of them lay a stack of letters of intent—a long-overdue gift from six disciples to their mentor. Lin Yiyang had five senior brothers. The first four hadn't encountered the right timing; they had retired before achieving great fame or before the industry had fully developed. Like their teacher, He Wenfeng, they had reputations but possessed nothing else to their names.
Lin Yiyang and Jiang Yang were younger. They had entered the sect one after another when Old He was in his sixties, and they were fortunate enough to catch the industry's economic explosion today. Thus, under the lead of Lin Yiyang and Jiang Yang, the two youngest would pay for the house in equal halves, with the four senior brothers acting as witnesses. They planned to present the house to their mentor in the name of all six brothers after the China Open.
Lin Yiyang had entered East New City in the second grade. Everything from his character to his skills on the table had been inherited from He Wenfeng. No matter how many complications there had been, nothing outweighed the debt of gratitude to his teacher. As a man nearly twenty-nine years old, he wanted to repay him. His teacher was elderly and had reached an age where he desired nothing. Having drifted through society for so many years, the only thing Lin Yiyang could think of was these material things—vulgar, perhaps, but practical.
Of course, given their teacher's temperament, how to present it would be a challenge. But with Jiang Yang there, they would find a way.
Lin Yiyang leaned both hands on the sides of the pool table, looking at the stack of papers. He thought that if he hadn't left back then, this could have been accomplished at least five years earlier.
...
They say life is full of possibilities, but in truth, time is heartless.
"What are you thinking about?" Jiang Yang asked.
Lin Yiyang chose the lightest words to brush him off. "It’s time to focus and get down to business."
***
The Snooker China Open kicked off in April.
Following the reform of the snooker tournament system, there were as many as twenty world-class professional stops this year.
This year’s China Open had a total prize pool exceeding one million pounds, attracting global attention and star players from all over the world.
At the beginning of the month, the public's gaze converged on China.
According to custom, the top 16 players in the world rankings automatically entered the main draw without having to participate in the qualifiers.
Thus, Lin Yiyang had not appeared until the day of the main tournament.
At the backstage of the Olympic Gymnasium, a tall, thin Chinese man with a buzz cut walked through the doors. He had his perennial black sports bag slung across his shoulder, and in his right hand, he carried a cue case and a black suit bag.
Several European and American players nearby saw him and waved warmly. "Hi, Lin."
Over the past year, whenever he appeared backstage, he was always in black casual wear, or at most, in the summer, he would take off his black jacket to reveal a simple white T-shirt. He liked wearing colored sneakers—dark red, white, deep blue, and so on.
That attire certainly made him look like an athlete, but not like a world-class master competing in a "gentleman's sport."
He passed several lounges and finally stopped at the Chinese players' lounge. He pressed the silver metal handle and pushed open the door—the door belonging to the players of the China Open.
Inside, several men were changing or resting in chairs.
There were top 16 players as well as newcomers who had fought their way through the qualifiers. Everyone greeted Lin Yiyang warmly as they saw him. Lin Yiyang nodded, walked through the crowd to find his seat, set down his cue case, and hung the suit bag containing his match attire on a rack.
He pulled out his phone and opened an incredibly boring game, playing aimlessly to pass the time.
Meanwhile, he waited for his opponent in the first round of the group stage—Meng Xiaodong.
Fate truly had a sense of humor; his first match back was against his old rival.
Meng Xiaodong happened to return from the restroom, fully dressed in dress pants, a white shirt, and a slim-fit vest. Not a single piece was missing, though his bowtie was still sitting on the table, waiting for him to head out.
Meng Xiaodong found his thermos and sipped hot tea to soothe his throat. "You ran into Yin Guo’s family a couple of days ago?"
"Yeah."
"First round of engagement—how did it feel?"
"Not bad." Lin Yiyang’s plan was just to offer a greeting and let the elders see him in a humble light. The goal of the first round had been achieved.
Meng Xiaodong nodded. "My aunt is very rigid, much like Old He. That 'winner takes all' mentality doesn't work with her."
Lin Yiyang knew what Meng Xiaodong meant. "It’s normal for them to have that attitude when I’ve just returned. I can't expect everyone to suddenly change their minds just because I have a world ranking now and have made a name for myself, thinking that success automatically makes someone a good person. I wouldn't believe it either if I were them."
He added, "I believe in the law of the jungle on the table, where the winner is king, but I don't like that kind of thing in society."
Ultimately, if you want people to change their minds, pretty words are useless. Intelligent people only observe what those around them do; they don't listen to what they say.
Lin Yiyang looked up at the wall clock, stood, and unzipped the suit bag to the bottom. He pulled out the shirt, dress pants, and vest inside.
He changed quickly, fastening his pants and cinching his belt.
He remembered the first time he had returned to the arena—it was during the qualifiers for the Australian Open. When Lin Yiyang walked backstage then, no one knew him, and no one greeted him.
Players ranked at the top of the world like Jiang Yang and Meng Xiaodong didn't need to participate in any qualifiers; they wouldn't even appear at the stadium until the formal tournament began. In a foreign land, after a long journey, there were no familiar faces and his opponents didn't know him. Even his brothers didn't know he had signed up for the qualifiers.
As he changed his shirt in the lounge, he thought about who he should tell that he was about to take the stage.
His first match after so many years—it seemed he had to say it out loud to feel grounded.
The only person he could think of was Yin Guo.
"The first time I competed in Belgium, I called your sister from the lounge," he said, fastening his buttons one by one, all the way to the top. "I didn't tell her where I was. I just said—Guo, I think I still want to compete."
He had also told her that after being away from the arena for so many years, it might not be as simple as he imagined. The world was changing, the arena was changing, and the opponents were changing. Everything was an unknown. Perhaps he was making a terrible move.
Going to Duke for his PhD would have been a safe bet. His closest senior from his undergraduate years had finished a PhD at UPenn and was an associate professor at Duke; he had been waiting for Lin Yiyang to join him. Their abilities were matched, so following his senior's path wouldn't have been a problem.
Returning to the arena, however, was full of variables.
"She was quite happy. I told her that if I didn't play well, the future might be difficult. Guess what she said?"
"What?"
"She said, 'It’s okay, just go. When you were pursuing me, you were a poor student, and I was a nobody. No matter how bad we are together, we won't be worse off than we were then.'"
She had also told him: *I was ranked third in the world association points last year. At worst, you’ll be the boyfriend of the world number three.* The little kid who had been homeless in the blizzard had already conquered half the world with her cue, and she told him seriously: She, Yin Guo, was Lin Yiyang’s safety net in life. *Go forward; there’s someone behind you, Lin Yiyang.*
A smile touched Meng Xiaodong’s eyes as he listened. "My sister is a treasure. You’re lucky to have found her."
Lin Yiyang smiled. "Let’s go." His features seemed slightly more settled under the influence of the formal shirt and trousers, but the attitude in his eyes was unmistakably his own.
The two left the lounge and walked side by side into the tunnel. Led by the staff, they entered the arena.
Snooker venues have strict requirements for absolute silence. In many opens, the first requirement is for spectators to turn off their phones. In the silence, even applause is restrained. Whether a player is standing up, striking the ball, sitting back down, or sitting alone in thought, everything is tied to the word "stillness."
In the quiet gymnasium, the attendance rate was over ninety percent.
For this domestic stop of the Open, the audience naturally knew more about the local players. Both Meng Xiaodong and the suddenly resurfaced Lin Yiyang were the reasons for today’s high turnout.
The referee, dressed in a slim black suit and white gloves, approached the two with a solemn expression and shook their hands.
A minute later, Lin Yiyang successfully won the break.
Carrying his black cue, he walked slowly to the table. The green felt, a different gymnasium, but the same soil. This was his first time standing on a domestic stage since his comeback, after having gone through over a dozen tournaments abroad.
"Your teacher is here," Meng Xiaodong said in a voice only he could hear. "Look to the north."
His heart jolted. He turned to look.
The arena was the center of all the lights, yet from within that radiance, he looked toward the spectator stands. His eyes found only one elderly man. After thirteen years apart, the first meeting between master and disciple was actually here, in this arena.
Lin Yiyang couldn't see his teacher's expression clearly because it was too far, because there were tears in his eyes, because...
The man gripping his cue stood as still as a statue in the live broadcast. Finally, in silence, he gave a deep, profound bow toward that corner he couldn't quite see.
***
