In their youth, before they had made names for themselves, everyone in the pool club had a nickname.
He was "Staccato," Jiang Yang was "The Bandit," Wu Wei was "Whatever," Fan Wencong was "The Peddler," Lin Lin was "Zong-zong," and Chen An’an—because his name sounded like a girl’s—was called "Sister An." The list went on. The club had several teachers, and the students were products of different mentors. He and Jiang Yang were the most talented of Master He’s disciples. People often said that Master He had taken on six apprentices, and finally, as he was nearing retirement, he had found two with true potential. Of the two, Lin Yiyang was considered the most gifted, and he was the one who had sought out the master on his own.
In that world, it was common for players to start competing in the domestic professional circuit at the age of thirteen.
After that, if you placed well—especially if you took gold or silver—others would jokingly address you as "Master" out of respect.
Jiang Yang had been the first to win a championship, earning him the title "Master Yang." By the time it was Lin Yiyang’s turn, he had to settle for "Young Master Yang," a concession to the fact that the final characters of their names were homophones.
"Why are you playing nine-ball?" Lin Yiyang asked Jiang Yang.
Jiang Yang was a snooker player. It was strange to see him leading a group of disciples in nine-ball.
"They’re my students, but Sister An is the one teaching them. He switched to nine-ball a few years ago. He had something come up at home and couldn't make it early, so he asked me to bring the kids over first."
"Isn't the competition in April?" Lin Yiyang remembered correctly; both Wu Wei and Yin Guo were competing then.
"The junior and youth divisions are in March," Wu Wei answered for Jiang Yang.
"Oh." Lin Yiyang continued drinking his beer.
The children on the sofa watched him with rapt attention, hoping for a chance to chat with their "Young Martial Uncle."
"You guys talk. I’m going down to eat."
Lin Yiyang returned to his room, threw on his heavy winter coat, slipped into his sneakers without socks, grabbed his keys and wallet, and walked straight through the living room. At the very end, seeing the children all staring at him, he couldn't quite bring himself to be entirely cold. He gave a casual wave of his hand as a farewell.
The door clicked shut.
He walked slowly down the stairs.
Two minutes from the building was the same ramen shop. He had an excellent memory; he remembered exactly what Yin Guo had ordered that night and what toppings she had added. At this hour, it wasn't very crowded. The owner, having a moment of leisure, sat down across from Lin Yiyang.
They had known each other for a year.
Lin Yiyang spoke Japanese, and the owner spoke English. By supplementing each other's vocabulary, they always had pleasant conversations.
"The girl you brought last night was very beautiful," the owner said.
Lin Yiyang lifted a bundle of noodles with his chopsticks and smiled.
"She is the kind of person," the owner, a man in his forties who had seen much of life, remarked, "that you want to know the moment you see her."
He didn't deny it.
"Which day was it? I mean, when did you meet?" the owner asked.
"That night. The night I slept here."
The owner remembered instantly. "The blizzard."
That night, the city had been buried in snow.
He had walked Yin Guo back to her hotel, but when he returned to the apartment, he realized he didn't have his keys. The two sisters who lived there were stranded on the other side of the city and hadn't returned either.
Fortunately, the kind-hearted owner had taken him in and let him sleep in the shop for the night.
A girl who made him want to know her at first sight—in twenty-seven years, she was the only one.
That night, Lin Yiyang had helped her carry her suitcases to the hotel entrance. Yin Guo had bowed to him with such earnestness and thanked him; she had looked incredibly cute. That night, as he slept in the ramen shop, the image of her bowing and offering her thanks played on a loop in his mind.
Social media was truly a wonderful thing.
What Yin Guo didn't know was that when she sent the friend request on WeChat, Lin Yiyang had just entered the subway station.
Seeing that her first post was an introduction to the Open, he realized that the cue case resting on the three suitcases didn't belong to her cousin, but to her. Fearing he would lose signal in the subway, he stayed at the station entrance for a full hour. In that hour, he scoured her Moments, gathering every bit of information related to her.
What she knew even less was how many of her match reports and videos he had watched on the bus ride from Washington D.C. back to New York.
She was... how to describe her?
If Lin Yiyang was an instinctive player who followed his heart, then Yin Guo was a master of stability. She showed no errors, and once she stepped onto the table, she seemed to lose all personal emotion in favor of absolute consistency.
How many crushing defeats had it taken to forge that?
He could even imagine her daily training routine—being ground down and suppressed by top-tier players, repeatedly honing her psychological resilience for the heat of competition.
In the past, the teachers at the club had always called Lin Yiyang a "genius" player.
But in truth, the type of player he admired most was someone like Yin Guo.
You knew she had talent, but you could see even more clearly how much effort she had poured into it. No matter how far such a player went, they would always receive the warmest applause because they "deserved" it.
Everyone would offer their heartfelt congratulations because her success was truly earned.
It had been a long ten days.
Lin Yiyang had read through every piece of data on her athletic career.
Yesterday, just to see her, he had changed his bus ticket three times. He finally found a window of time where he could invite Meng Xiaotian to that cafe for coffee. But when he actually saw Yin Guo appear before him, he didn't know how to start.
He couldn't exactly say: *I’ve watched all your matches, from childhood to the present, and I’ve even scrolled through all the fan gossip threads.*
Nor could he say: *There were two matches where your performance was so brilliant it belonged in a highlight reel. In that state, even if I were your opponent, I couldn't say for sure that I would win.*
And he certainly couldn't say: *Your brother, Meng Xiaodong, and I faced off many times back in the day. We traded wins and losses; we were practically arch-nemeses. Ask him—he definitely remembers me.*
In the end, Lin Yiyang said nothing. He simply watched her walk from the sunlight into the cafe.
He watched her pause in surprise, watched her steady her nerves and walk slowly to the table, slinging her bag over the back of the chair. He watched her sit down before he finally pushed a menu toward her. "See what you’d like to eat."
Compared to talking, treating her to food was much easier.
...
Lin Yiyang pulled his thoughts back and continued eating his noodles.
"Last night, when you were both here, you hardly said a word to her," the owner said with a smile.
"In the past... my words used to cut like knives. I hurt a lot of people. Especially over the phone, when you can't see a person's face, I'm afraid of even more misunderstandings."
Of course, face-to-face wasn't much better.
Their conversation on the subway last night had felt like a forced blind date.
"Actually, we just met. She doesn't know me yet," he added.
He meant that Yin Guo didn't understand him.
Past, present, and future—their lives should have had no intersection at all.
The ramen shop owner seemed to understand Lin Yiyang’s state of mind perfectly. He smiled and said, "My wife was my high school classmate. For a long time, I never learned how to speak to her normally. Later, she told me she felt very wronged back then, thinking I hated her." The owner took a plate of wasabi octopus from a waiter and placed it in front of Lin Yiyang’s bowl.
The owner gave him one last piece of advice: "Speak your truth. She will feel it."
***
In the pool hall, Yin Guo was practicing with Su Wei.
She didn't know what was wrong with her today, but she missed shot after shot. Su Wei teased her several times, asking if she had spent a "spirited" night with the regional champion and lost her focus as a result. At first, Yin Guo just smiled and stayed silent, but after being teased one too many times, she felt forced to clarify that her relationship with Lin Yiyang was very ordinary.
In fact, Yin Guo believed that before last night, Lin Yiyang might have actually disliked her.
Su Wei, of course, didn't believe it.
To prove her point, Yin Guo showed Su Wei their WeChat chat history.
It was clean and professional.
In all the records, she was the one with the good temper, sending long self-introductions, frequently being polite, and trying to build a rapport to become friends. But every conversation ended with a cold reply from Lin Yiyang—either "No problem," or "Sure," or just a single emoji to end the chat.
Especially in Washington, when she thanked him for hosting her cousin, he had given her a cold "Sure" plus an emoji. She had been genuinely hurt then. Afterward, for ten long days, they hadn't exchanged a single word.
If she could be so delusional as to think he was interested in her after all that, she would have to be incredibly full of herself...
"I take back what I said," Su Wei said, handing the phone back. "Did you offend him?"
It was lucky Yin Guo had such a good temperament; if it were Su Wei, she would have given up long ago.
Yin Guo smiled helplessly. "The night we met, I might have offended him a little bit."
Su Wei was tired too. She suggested they take a ten-minute break, put down her cue, and went outside for some fresh air.
Yin Guo sat alone on the high spectator chair, idly scrolling through WeChat. Suddenly, it occurred to her that she had never looked at his Moments.
She quietly opened his profile—
There was nothing. Not a single post.
He was a person who didn't use Moments.
***
Lin Yiyang leaned against the wall of the ramen shop, pulled out his phone, and opened his chat window with Yin Guo.
He studied their entire conversation carefully, from the moment they added each other until last night, not missing a single line. What should he say? He pressed a finger against an empty glass beer bottle, spinning it in circles as he pondered.
Outside the door, Jiang Yang, dressed in a black padded coat, walked to the edge of the steps. He crouched down halfway and waved to Lin Yiyang inside. Through the glass door, the owner asked, "Looking for you?"
"Yeah." Lin Yiyang tucked his phone into his pocket, left the money for his meal, threw on his coat, and pushed his way out.
In the cold wind, he hopped up the two steps.
"I had the coach come and take the kids back to the hotel first." Jiang Yang tilted his head, pointing to the right. "Whatever said there's a pool hall nearby. Come on, let's play a rack. When brothers meet, we should do it properly."
Lin Yiyang wanted to refuse.
But for some reason—perhaps because he had been thinking about how to message Yin Guo—his mood was actually quite good, or at least much better than when he had woken up.
He didn't say anything, just nodded and walked side-by-side with Jiang Yang toward the next block.
Jiang Yang pulled out an electronic cigarette, opened the cap, inserted a small heat-stick, and took a deep drag after it heated up. "To be honest, I’ve admired you since we were kids. In our group, only Wu Wei was decent at school. It’s no surprise he could keep studying until now, but no one expected you to make it this far."
Jiang Yang laughed. "Back then, both of us were at the bottom of the class, weren't we? Out of forty kids, could you even make the top thirty?"
"In middle school? Probably not," he reminisced.
Very few children in the pool club had good grades. Back then, some were there because they couldn't handle school and their parents had sought an alternative path for them; others were there because their families were in the business and they had the environment to go pro directly. Lin Yiyang himself hadn't done well in middle school.
After he left the club in high school, he had been provoked into studying day and night. Between making money and studying, it had been incredibly bitter.
Even during these three years studying abroad, what kind of work hadn't he done?
In his first year, when he wasn't allowed to work legally, he had followed the Chinese tour buses, working illegal odd jobs everywhere to make money...
Earning money wasn't easy. Even Wu Wei had nagged him, saying he should have picked a cheaper school instead of insisting on one with such high tuition. But after a couple of grumbles, Wu Wei stopped. He knew that this, too, was part of Lin Yiyang’s stubborn pride.
Lin Yiyang shoved his hands into his pockets and looked up at the distant traffic.
For the past dozen years, he had climbed upward with great difficulty, all because of a single sentence his master had once said: *You, Lin Yiyang, don't even have a home. Once you leave this club and put down that cue, you are nothing.*
Now, he stood here firmly. He could be whatever he wanted to be.
He could pick up the cue, and he could put it down. He could survive either way.
"It hasn't been easy these years, has it?" Jiang Yang looked at his younger fellow disciple.
Lin Yiyang turned back, his smile relaxed. "For me, is there such a thing as a 'difficult' task?"
He was exactly the same as he had been years ago.
Jiang Yang was amused. He took another puff of his cigarette and patted Lin Yiyang on the shoulder. "True. For our Young Master Yang, there’s nothing that can't be handled."
Lin Yiyang glanced sideways at the electronic cigarette in Jiang Yang’s hand. Jiang Yang caught his drift, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a pack of real cigarettes he had just bought, stuffing them along with a lighter into Lin Yiyang’s pocket. "I switch between them. I'm trying to quit."
Lin Yiyang looked down, tore off the plastic film of the cigarette pack, then felt it was pointless. He stuffed the film, the pack, and the lighter back into Jiang Yang’s pocket.
"What's this?" Jiang Yang laughed. "That doesn't seem like you."
"How many years has it been since you last saw me?" Lin Yiyang countered.
As they spoke, they entered the pool hall.
When the owner saw Lin Yiyang, he smiled and immediately turned back to grab a large ice bucket. He filled it with seven or eight bottles of beer, placed the bucket in front of him, and pointed to one of the tables.
Lin Yiyang picked up the ice bucket and walked to his usual table. He set the bucket down, and before picking out a cue, he opened a beer and took a swig. "You can drink whatever you want here, but no smoking. Put that thing away—"
He wanted to say "that sissy electronic cigarette," but he held it back.
"Pick a cue," he said, tilting his head toward the rack.
Lin Yiyang tilted his head back for another gulp of beer, set the bottle down, and watched Jiang Yang select a cue. He wasn't picky himself and simply grabbed the one on the far right.
Jiang Yang arranged the nine balls into a diamond shape on the blue felt.
Lin Yiyang found the cue ball just as Jiang Yang asked casually, "Last night, I saw Whatever post something."
Lin Yiyang’s hand paused.
"What girl? What country? What's her background?"
Lin Yiyang pointed to his own dark eyes. "Chinese."
He bounced the cue ball in his hand and added, "We just met. It’s not as dramatic as Wu Wei made it sound. Besides," he leaned over the side of the table and placed the cue ball on the break line, "she might not even be interested in me."
"Lacking confidence?" Jiang Yang laughed in surprise, gesturing for Lin Yiyang to take the break. "A man needs to know his strengths and play to them. For someone like you, 'seduction' would obviously be the path of least resistance, little brother."
Lin Yiyang rolled his eyes and said nothing more. He leaned down and aligned his cue.
He aimed at the cue ball.
With a forceful stroke of his right hand, the cue ball flew forward. With a sharp *crack*, it scattered the colored balls across the table. The sound of balls dropping into pockets was continuous. Soon, only three balls remained on the table. Finally, even the nine-ball rolled toward the pocket in front of Jiang Yang and dropped with a satisfying thud.
The nine-ball had gone in on the break.
With a single stroke, he had won the first rack.
Jiang Yang let out a whistle.
Lin Yiyang stood up straight, took a sip of beer, and stared at the two remaining colored balls on the table, lost in thought. What kind of message should he send? When chatting with a girl... should he download an emoji pack first?
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 顿挫 | Staccato | Lin Yiyang's nickname, referring to his rhythmic playing style. |
| 大盗 | The Bandit | Jiang Yang's nickname. |
| 无所谓 | Whatever | Wu Wei's nickname, a pun on his name. |
| 小贩 | The Peddler | Fan Wencong's nickname. |
| 总总 | Zong-zong | Lin Lin's nickname. |
| 安妹 | Sister An | Chen An'an's nickname, due to his feminine-sounding name. |
| 贺老 | Master He | The legendary coach who trained Lin Yiyang and Jiang Yang. |
| 九球 | Nine-ball | A discipline of pool. |
| 斯诺克 | Snooker | A discipline of billiards. |
| 小扬爷 | Young Master Yang | A respectful title given to Lin Yiyang after he started winning. |
| 杨爷 | Master Yang | A respectful title given to Jiang Yang. |
| 稳定大师 | Master of Stability | Lin Yiyang's internal description of Yin Guo's playing style. |
| 随心型 | Instinctive player | Lin Yiyang's description of his own playing style. |
Enjoying the story? Rate this novel:
Amidst a Snowstorm of Love | Chapter 9 | A Single Stroke | Novela.app | Novela.app
