Chapter 37: The Return of the King (1)
One year later.
Airport terminal.
At the exit, Yin Guo placed her suitcase beside her and took a seat in the farthest right corner of an empty row of chairs. The seats were sparsely occupied by people waiting to pick up arrivals—she was the only one who had just gotten off a flight.
She checked the time on her phone. Still early.
His flight didn’t have satellite Wi-Fi, so there was no way to contact him. She could only estimate, based on the elapsed time, where he was in the air and how much longer it would take for him to land in China.
Lin Yiyang was coming back—this time, for good.
Yin Guo wasn’t the only player on her return flight. Her fellow competitors emerged from the exit one after another, pulling their luggage behind them, chatting in low voices and laughing. Most of the men hadn’t changed out of their tournament attire, merely throwing on a casual blazer before rushing to the airport. The women still wore their competition makeup, clustered in small groups, some carrying cue cases in their hands, others balancing them on their suitcases. They drew quite a few curious glances from passersby.
The last to exit were the referees, dressed plainly in full tracksuits. On the tournament floor, they were required to wear formal suits, standing for entire days at a time until they were utterly exhausted. So, the moment they left the venue, they were the quickest to change.
Among the seven or eight referees, the one leading the group was Lin Lin, the head of the officiating team. After undergoing major surgery and taking a year off to recover, this was her first full tournament back from medical leave.
Lin Lin quickly spotted Yin Guo sitting in the corner.
This rising star, who had only been competing for a year, had skyrocketed up the domestic Nine-ball, Eight-ball, and World Artistic Nine-ball rankings. Her eyes were particularly large, but with her head lowered, they were hidden behind the bangs that had fallen over her face. Dressed in a bean-pink hoodie and white jeans, she sat quietly in the chair, legs crossed, staring motionlessly at her phone screen.
Lin Lin guessed she was lost in thought—and knew she was waiting for someone.
Over the next few hours, many people would rush to this airport, to this very exit, all here for the same person.
“We haven’t officially met yet. I’m Lin Lin.”
Yin Guo looked up and smiled at her. “We saw each other in Hangzhou.” How could she not know the head referee?
“That’s different,” Lin Lin chuckled. “I’m Lin Lin from East New City—Lin Yiyang’s childhood buddy.”
Yin Guo smiled and shook her hand.
Lin Lin’s grip was firm—the kind of handshake that felt like meeting family.
The distance between them seemed to vanish instantly.
“I heard you had major surgery? Coming back straight into such a big tournament—are you holding up okay?” Yin Guo asked quietly after Lin Lin sat down.
“I’m managing. Honestly, I wanted another month off, but this Open is too important. The higher-ups wouldn’t let me rest.”
They exchanged a few more casual remarks.
Then, out of nowhere, Lin Lin teased Lin Yiyang, asking, “Tell me secretly—did Lin Yiyang rack up some crazy debt in the U.S.? Why’s he been going so hard since his comeback?”
The moment Yin Guo heard this, she understood.
She was referring to how his ranking had been soaring, his prize money winnings leaving people stunned. Someone had calculated his earnings across major tournaments—adding up pounds and dollars, he had already amassed two million USD.As a Chinese player temporarily residing abroad, he emerged out of nowhere last year, competing solo in major international tournaments. Not just in Snooker—whenever the schedule didn’t clash, he’d also participate in Nine-ball and Eight-ball competitions, a rare sight indeed.
Some Nine-ball players dabble in Eight-ball, but few venture into Snooker as well. Someone like Lin Yiyang is truly exceptional.
For those with talent, a low point is often better described as a period of dormancy—what lies dormant must eventually rise.
Throughout those long years, he never once set down his cue. Rain or shine, illness or health, a billiards table was always by his side. He might have hidden himself away for a long time, but he never abandoned the passion of his life.
On another flight.
The cabin lights were all off, and the windows had been dimmed to a deep blue by the captain.
Ninety percent of the passengers were asleep.
Lin Yiyang returned from the restroom to find only a handful of passengers still watching movies in their seats. He made his way back to his own spot, where the young man beside him, Sun Yao, had woken up mid-nap.
“Your girl’s definitely coming to pick you up, right?” Sun Yao hugged his blanket, lazily leaning against the seat as he asked, “Last time I saw her was at the Open—almost forgot what she looks like.”
“Might not make it in time,” Lin Yiyang replied.
Before boarding, Yin Guo had still been in a match, and they hadn’t had a chance to talk.
Lin Yiyang put on his headphones and scrolled through the options before settling on an old art film. The opening credits played over a clean soundtrack—a guitar plucked softly, drums faint in the background. The gentle strumming gradually grew louder, as if enveloping the sky tens of thousands of feet high and the cabin itself.
Over the past year, there had been times when Yin Guo fell ill without telling him. Once, she ran a high fever for three days straight but still kept up their scheduled video calls, flawlessly hiding it from him. Another time, she competed while sick—something he only learned about from Wu Wei, who’d heard it from someone up north. When he confronted her, her first reaction was nervous reassurance: “Before you, I was always alone when I got sick. I’d just take medicine and get better.”
In the end, she softened her voice and whined a little, saying she missed him terribly. Over video, it all felt unreal—she could barely remember what he looked like in person.
For 362 days, they kept things platonic—texts, voice messages, and video calls never stopped, but they only met twice in person, each time around one of their birthdays.
On Yin Guo’s birthday, she was supposed to celebrate with her family, but Lin Yiyang’s surprise left her stunned. She hastily made up an excuse about celebrating with college friends and rushed to the hotel where he was staying.
It was their first reunion since parting ways in the U.S., and the longing had been unbearable. The urge to do something was strong, but she happened to be indisposed that day. The prolonged torment of separation had left them feeling more like online lovers who barely knew each other.
Face to face, they were awkwardly at a loss for words. For the first ten minutes, one sat on the couch while the other stayed by the desk, chatting about random topics—they might as well have been discussing Sino-American relations on the evening news.
Somehow, they ended up in each other’s arms. Even Lin Yiyang found himself dazed—was this really his girlfriend?
It felt so unfamiliar, like holding a stranger. That day, they tried everything to please each other, as if to prove, See, I still love you —or to desperately confirm, You still love me too .
No matter how life moved forward, no matter how many remarkable men and women crossed their paths, their hearts remained steadfast: It’s only you .That night, Yin Guo was reluctant to go home. She kept playing with the thin calluses on his palm, murmuring that next time they should plan their meeting dates carefully—otherwise, it would be such a waste to make a trip for nothing. Lin Yiyang couldn't help but laugh, wondering how he had managed to stumble upon such a treasure.
Later, when Lin Yiyang's birthday came around, Yin Guo was scheduled to be in Singapore for a competition. Without hesitation, she flew straight from Singapore to Washington to see him the minute her match ended, not even taking a break.
The two of them didn’t go anywhere. They stayed in Lin Yiyang’s apartment for two whole days, only making a quick trip to the supermarket and cooking all their meals themselves. Those two days were wild—from the bed to the bookshelf, even the windowsill, they left no surface untouched. Later, the room was in such a mess that Yin Guo couldn’t bear to look at the bedsheets anymore. While he went out to buy dinner, she hand-washed the sheets and all his dirty clothes, then had Lin Yiyang take them to the laundromat to dry.
Before taking her to the airport, Yin Guo wanted to cook him a meal and asked what he’d like to eat.
Lin Yiyang replied: Tomato sauce noodles.
Being much younger than him, Yin Guo wasn’t very familiar with this dish, a staple from the older generation’s frugal times. After some trial and error, she actually managed to make it—a red and yellow sauce poured over thin spaghetti, mixed evenly with chopsticks. She fed him several bites herself. In the end, she watched as he finished the last strand of noodles before reluctantly leaving the apartment. Before she left, she took his white T-shirt with her, leaving behind a new black one she had bought, with the same lettering design.
Later, as he remade the bed with the freshly dried sheets, it occurred to him that silly Yin Guo had only noticed the bedsheets—she’d forgotten that the duvet cover and pillowcases were also beyond salvage.
He thought about washing them, then hesitated. The faint traces of her scent lingered on them. Once washed, they’d be gone.
Yin Guo and Lin Lin were the first two to arrive.
A little past eleven, Wu Wei drove over with Chen Anan and Fan Wencong. About half an hour later, Jiang Yang’s flight landed. The old brothers—whether they were now heads of billiard clubs, coaching staff for competitions, or still renowned players dominating the scene—all gathered at Terminal 3 in the dead of night.
Yin Guo was the youngest in the group.
While everyone chatted, Wu Wei, at Jiang Yang’s suggestion, made a point to sit beside Yin Guo to keep her company, worried she might feel out of place.
At first, their conversation was light. Then, Wu Wei cleared his throat. “Does your family know about Lin Yiyang?”
Yin Guo shook her head, troubled.
Her cousin had advised her not to bring it up before Lin Yiyang returned to the country, to avoid unnecessary complications. Once he was back, they’d find the right moment. Meng Xiaodong even planned to step in personally, possibly bringing his own father along, to plead Lin Yiyang’s case.
“You know, right? Back then, your mom was a referee and also an association official.”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I also know that He Lao had a falling out with my mom over him. If it weren’t for He Lao, he would’ve been suspended for a year back then… not just six months.”
“Really?” Wu Wei was surprised.
“You didn’t know?” She was equally surprised.
“How would I?” One was an association official, the other a highly respected elder in the billiard club. A dispute between them wouldn’t have been something a few rookies back then would’ve known about.Yin Guo thought about it and realized it was true—even her cousin had heard it from her, and she had heard it from her parents' conversations...
Lin Yiyang had made his comeback this year, and her family had brought it up frequently. Yin Guo's father had been involved in sports in his early years before switching to business and making a fortune, but deep down, he still held onto his old ideals. Whenever her parents mentioned Lin Yiyang, the things they said would make anyone who didn’t know him think he was a lawless, arrogant man who cared only about money, devoid of sportsmanship or competitive spirit.
"He’s in for a rough time," Wu Wei murmured sympathetically.
Rough in every way. First, with Yin Guo’s family—even if he shed several layers of skin, he might still not be accepted. Second, Yin Guo’s mother had been climbing the ranks and was now a leader in the sports bureau. If he wanted to develop his career domestically, it’d be tough...
Yin Guo could guess why Lin Yiyang had spent this year competing abroad—he wanted to avoid direct confrontation until he had achieved good results and built up his reputation. But she knew her parents well. Good results alone wouldn’t mean much, especially since most of her mother’s relatives were involved in sports. Outstanding achievements were nothing rare in this family. Even Yin Guo herself, who consistently won medals in every Open, rarely received praise at home.
The two of them had never discussed this topic.
She didn’t want him to face pressure the moment he returned. Some things could wait until they absolutely had to be dealt with.
A little past three in the morning.
The flight landed at the airport after a delay of over ten minutes.
Yin Guo and the others waited at the arrivals gate.
At this hour, the crowd outside the exit was much smaller than during the day. Everyone stood in a row behind the silver railings. Yin Guo chose the best spot, where she could see the customs security scanner and, in the distance, the luggage conveyor belt...
Gradually, more people emerged, all from the same flight.
Among the weary, hurried travelers, Yin Guo quickly spotted Lin Yiyang. His height made him stand out—aside from the foreigners on the same flight, he was the tallest. Wearing a black cap, his ever-present sports backpack, and a black casual jacket, he walked out of the exit.
He pushed a luggage cart loaded with four suitcases of varying sizes—his and his teammates’. Each one was battered and covered in baggage tags, as conspicuous as his packed competition schedule over the past year.
When he saw Yin Guo, his steps slowed to a stop.
All his brothers were here. And so was she.
In the crowd, she leaned against the railing, smiling at him. To him, everything around her faded into monochrome—only she was in color. Her bangs seemed longer than the last time he saw her, and her hair had grown, now almost reaching her waist, straightened and smooth. The dusty pink hoodie made her face appear even paler and smaller. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her smile never wavered.
"Look at Dun Cuo seeing his girl," Fan Wencong couldn’t resist whispering to Chen Anan. "Bet all three legs are stiff now."
Chen Anan shot him a glare.
"She can’t hear me," Fan Wencong muttered. "I’m keeping my voice down."
Yin Guo couldn’t hold back her tears and wiped them with the back of her hand. Gripping the chest-high railing, she waved at him. Lin Yiyang walked straight up to her and, reaching over the barrier, brushed away her tears.
They gazed at each other, silent for a long moment.
Neither spoke first.
"Anyone been chasing you lately?" he asked in a low voice, smiling as he posed the question in front of everyone. "Tell me about it."Everyone behind Yin Guo burst into laughter. Same as always.
She let out a nasal "Mmm," deliberately playing along with him in a lighthearted tone: "Just didn't quite remember what they looked like. None of them were as handsome as you."
He laughed: "So you only fell for my face?"
She gave another "Mmm," maintaining eye contact as tears began streaming uncontrollably down her face—overwhelmed by excitement and unable to contain her joy. Watching her cry-laughing expression, Lin Yiyang felt a dull ache in his chest. Reaching through the railing, he pulled her into a tight embrace.
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