Lin Yiyang was very familiar with the neighborhood and found the shop quickly.
It was a modest establishment, no larger than the palm of a hand. On the right, a glass display case merged with the checkout counter; on the left were several small shelves stocked with peripheral merchandise. Dozens of burlap sacks tied with twine held brown coffee beans, each marked with a hand-written white cardboard sign.
There was only one other pair of customers in the shop, a young couple also picking out beans.
They were pointing at the white wall above the sacks, conversing in low voices. The wall was covered in names, origins, and flavor profiles of the various beans. The girl in the couple picked up a single bean and popped it into the boy’s mouth, letting him taste it.
Lin Yiyang picked out two beans and placed them in Yin Guo’s palm. He pointed to her mouth.
"Try them," he said.
Startled, she followed his lead and placed a bean between her lips, biting down and chewing softly.
She had intended to savor the flavor carefully, but Lin Yiyang kept his eyes fixed on her. Her chewing gradually slowed as she grew increasingly self-conscious. Sensing her thoughts, he looked away and scooped two more beans—these with a sweet and sour berry profile—from a nearby sack and pressed them into her hand.
Yin Guo took them, clenching them in her palm, too embarrassed to try them this time.
Once the couple left, the three of them were the only customers remaining. She and Lin Yiyang stayed by the coffee beans while her cousin wandered to the last row of shelves to look for gifts.
Yin Guo wasn't used to sampling beans this way. She pulled out a tissue, spat out the grounds, and crumpled it into a ball in her hand.
This movement, too, was caught by the man beside her.
He pointed to a small corner to the left of the counter, indicating the trash can.
Yin Guo discarded the tissue and heard him ask, "What is your friend looking for?"
There were several varieties.
Just moments ago, she had been trying to figure out how to pronounce the names, planning to check a dictionary so she could ask the clerk. Lin Yiyang’s question was a lifesaver.
Yin Guo showed him the names. He called a clerk over and pointed out several bags of beans. The clerk smiled and chatted with him for a moment; Yin Guo could hear them discussing which ones were the bestsellers.
As they went to pay, Lin Yiyang lifted his right arm to check his watch.
Yin Guo immediately said, "If you're in a hurry, you should go. I’ve already got everything I need anyway."
He had checked his watch several times since they left the café.
First, he had rushed to meet them without even eating lunch, then he’d hastily finished his coffee and panini to bring them here. Though he didn't say it, he gave off an air of being pressed for time. She suspected he had traveled straight from Washington.
"Let's meet up again when I'm free?" He also knew he couldn't delay any longer.
Yin Guo nodded.
Without further ado, Lin Yiyang pushed the door open and left.
Through the glass, Yin Guo watched him cross the street. He didn't hail a cab, likely heading for a nearby subway station.
The sight of him crossing the street reminded her of the night they first met.
The man with glasses had helped the siblings into the car and loaded their luggage while Lin Yiyang settled the bill inside the bar.
Through the car window and the double panes of the bar's glass, Yin Guo had seen him drain the remaining half-glass of his drink in one go, sign the receipt, pull on the hood of his heavy coat, and push through the door.
A violent gust of wind had whipped up the snow on the road, enveloping cars and pedestrians in a white mist that dissipated as quickly as it had come. He had taken a few quick strides, crossed the street, rounded the right side of the car, and climbed in.
The driver had asked where they were going.
He had said: Queens.
The driver was surprised. *In this hellish weather, you want to take the long way around?*
He had replied: *Yes, the long way.*
...
"Sis?" Her cousin returned with two souvenirs, surprised to find Lin Yiyang gone. "He left?"
"Yeah, he was in a rush." She pulled out her wallet to pay.
She realized she was still clutching the two berry-flavored coffee beans. She thought about tossing them back into the burlap sack but hesitated. She had been holding them for a while; it wouldn't be right to throw them back in. What if someone else picked them up to taste? It wasn't hygienic.
With nowhere to throw them, she tucked the two beans into a small inner pocket of her backpack.
After buying the coffee, she and her cousin went their separate ways.
While Meng Xiaotian continued to wander the area, she went straight back to the hotel, grabbed her cue from the room, packed a small bag with her phone, wallet, and key card, and headed to the pool hall.
The last time she had come to the States, she had registered for the Junior Division of the American 9-Ball Open.
Generally, the Junior and Youth divisions of such major tournaments were more for encouragement; they offered prize money but no official world ranking points. Between the registration fees and travel expenses, the prize money wasn't even enough to cover costs. So, after testing the waters last year, she had registered directly for the Professional Division this year. This would be the first battle of her professional career.
She and her friend met here every day to train.
They had chosen this local American pool hall for another reason: they could run into many American world champions. Everyone practiced like ordinary people and occasionally held small-scale matches, which was very interesting.
Before leaving, Yin Guo refreshed the weather forecast. Another cold front was coming; there would be localized snow today.
Sure enough, though it had been sunny when she left the coffee shop, by the time she reached the pool hall before three o'clock, the sky had already darkened.
As she walked in, someone called out from a corner of the room, "Yin Guo."
Su Wei gestured with her eyes toward a spot not far away. Barry, a famous local American player, was sitting quietly in a spectator chair, watching his opponent play. "Didn't you want to see him in person yesterday? Well, he's here today."
After saying this, Su Wei smiled and greeted Barry in English. "This is my friend I told you about, Xiao Guo."
Yin Guo dropped her backpack onto a chair and greeted Barry.
Barry looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, very experienced and quite warm. He came over and chatted with them for a good while.
Most of the people in the pool hall were men. Only Su Wei and Yin Guo’s table consisted of female competitors registered for the tournament; the two blonde girls at another table were just there for fun. Su Wei was half-mixed and her height was closer to the locals, while the two local beauties were tall with long legs. Among the four women in the hall, Yin Guo was the only petite one.
When she first arrived, someone had even asked if she was registering for the Under-14 Junior Division.
But later, no one asked that anymore.
Because her skill, while perhaps not enough to instantly crush the regional champions and famous players in the room, was certainly not inferior to theirs.
The truth is revealed on the table.
Moreover, at the pool table, age doesn't matter.
Tournament registrations only have upper age limits—you can't join the Junior Division if you're over fourteen, or the Youth Division if you're over twenty-one—to ensure fairness.
There is no lower age limit. Meng Xiaotian’s older brother, Meng Xiaodong, had started competing in the Professional Division at the age of fourteen.
Because of the afternoon tea, she had arrived late today and planned to extend her practice until eight o'clock.
Unfortunately, plans rarely keep pace with changes. Around six, Barry packed up his things and hurried over, warmly inviting Su Wei and her to have dinner near Flushing. It was a hub for Asians and Chinese people, often called "Chinatown."
Yin Guo hadn't been there yet; it was a bit far.
Su Wei’s boyfriend lived over there, so she could just stay the night once they arrived without having to travel back. This meant Yin Guo would have to return alone after dark, and she was worried about safety.
"Let me tell you, in Flushing, there's a Sichuan restaurant owned by my boyfriend’s family. The water-boiled beef is delicious."
Water-boiled beef truly was a world-renowned Chinese dish...
Her cravings were piqued. She had been here for over a week and hadn't had a taste of home yet; her tongue was nearly losing its sense of taste to Western food. But no matter how good it was, there was no need to rush over so late; she could go on her own tomorrow.
Seeing her hesitation, Barry whispered a few words to Su Wei.
Su Wei found a new reason to tempt her: "He says that because of the Open, there's a gathering tonight. You'll see a lot of people from the Professional Division—from all different countries. You can meet them ahead of time."
That hit the bullseye. She had to go.
She quickly confirmed Meng Xiaotian’s location via WeChat, told him to head back to the hotel early, then put her cue into its case, slung it over her shoulder, and followed the two of them out.
The journey took quite a while. By the time they reached the restaurant, Su Wei had just started ordering when Barry received seven or eight calls in a row, urging him to get to the pool hall as soon as possible. They were forced to give up on the water-boiled beef and ordered some fried rice instead.
After a few quick bites, they paid the bill in a hurry and headed straight for their next destination.
Tonight’s gathering was at a Chinese-owned pool hall.
The owner was Chinese, a well-known former snooker player who had opened this sizable hall after retiring, catering mostly to regulars. The entrance was on a street corner. When they arrived, a few people were smoking by a trash can near the door. One of them recognized Barry, tossed his cigarette butt, and pointed inside with a grin. "Go on in, there's a good show starting."
Understanding the hint, Barry pushed open the glass door and led them inside.
Rows of pool tables were arranged neatly from the entrance to the back.
Most were green, with a few blue tables toward the inner section. There was about two meters of clearance between the tables for players to stroke their cues.
Brown spectator chairs lined both sides of the room.
Upon entering, they noticed that the games on the tables were all unfinished. Everyone had left their own games to crowd around the blue table at the very back. The crowd was buzzing with lively chatter; it was clear they were there to watch a match.
Barry asked his friend loudly, "Who's playing?"
Someone replied, "A regional champion is gambling. Three thousand dollars."
Barry asked again, "Against who?"
The person gave a name. Barry grew excited, dropped his backpack and cue case with a smile, and pushed into the crowd.
Judging by Barry’s reaction, the opponent must also be a very famous local player. Yin Guo stood her cue case upright to the side. Before she even had a chance to pull back the hood of her down jacket, she caught a glimpse through a gap between two men...
Is it him?
It was only a flash, but in a place full of locals, it was easy to recognize a Chinese face. Black hair, cut short, wearing the same black hoodie from this afternoon with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His back was to her.
Could she be mistaken?
Seeing them approach, Barry smiled and nudged two of his friends aside so the girls could see more clearly.
She was pushed to the very front of the crowd, directly facing that back.
The match hadn't started yet.
He was applying chalk to the tip of his cue, twisting the small blue cube slowly and steadily across the leather, coating it perfectly. He was clearly a seasoned hand.
"The betting limit today is five thousand dollars," he said in English to the crowd of strangers. "I've only scraped together three thousand. If any of you want to back me, you're more than welcome."
It was him. It was definitely him. This was the same voice that had been telling her anecdotes about struggling writers this afternoon.
But now he was different. From the content to the tone to his entire aura, he was nonchalant, projecting a clear message: he would take this set, and anyone who bet on him would be guaranteed a win.
He set the chalk down on the edge of the table.
He turned his head.
His gaze stopped, landing on her.
...It really was him.
Later, when Yin Guo looked back on this night, she always believed that this was the true beginning of her acquaintance with Lin Yiyang. The man here, in this Chinese pool hall, was the real him—the lazy, brilliant, rule-breaking Chinese man who always defeated his opponents with an air of indifference, as if winning or losing was entirely up to his whim.
Lin Yiyang held his cue in his right hand and slowly leaned against the edge of the table. He reached out, scooped up two balls, and tossed one to his opponent for the night, the regional champion.
"Come on," he said. "Let me see what you've got."
He hadn't eaten dinner and his mood hadn't been great, but now, things were different.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 法拉盛 | Flushing | A neighborhood in Queens, NYC, known for its large Asian population. |
| 美式九球 | American 9-ball | A popular pocket billiards game. |
| 职业组 | Professional Division | The category for professional competitors in a tournament. |
| 青年组 | Youth Division | A tournament category for players under a certain age (usually 21). |
| 少年组 | Junior Division | A tournament category for younger players (usually under 14). |
| 杆桶 | Cue case | A protective carrying case for a pool cue. |
| 撞头 | Cue tip | The leather tip at the end of a pool cue that strikes the ball. |
| 巧克粉 | Chalk | Used on the cue tip to increase friction and prevent miscues. |
| 赌球 | Gambling / Money match | Playing billiards for stakes/money. |
| 水煮牛肉 | Water-boiled beef | A famous spicy Sichuan dish. |
| 运杆 | Stroke / Cueing | The motion of moving the cue back and forth before striking. |
