Chapter 60: The Voice of Youth (4)
That evening, Lin Yiyang had to urgently call the team doctor due to a recurrence of his old injury and received treatment.
On the third day, the final day of the billiards hall competition, the men's Snooker singles event kicked off in the morning.
Lin Yiyang and Meng Xiaodong defeated their respective Asian counterparts in the group stages and successfully faced off in the finals. As the two stood by the table, ready to compete for the gold medal, Jiang Yang, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but sigh. "If I hadn't had surgery, these two wouldn't have had it so easy." Coming from anyone else, this might have sounded like bragging, but from Jiang Yang, it was the truth.
Still feeling regretful about missing the rare opportunity to compete in singles Snooker at the Asian Games, Jiang Yang turned to Li Qingyan, who also hadn't gotten a chance to play, and asked, "Hey, if the three of us hadn't retired, do you think you'd never have had a shot at this stage in your lifetime?"
Not satisfied, he added, "Our profession has such a long career span—most retire in their forties. I reckon you're really out of luck."
...
Fan Wencong was puzzled and whispered to Wu Wei, "Does this guy have some grudge against him?"
Wu Wei gave a dry chuckle and whispered back, "This guy is Yin Guo's childhood friend. They either dated or he pursued her at some point. Remember? Last year at the hotel in New York? Meng Xiaodong mentioned it."
Oh... him.
No wonder. And Jiang Yang was actually being merciful with his words.
At 10 a.m., the first gold medal of the day—the men's Snooker singles—unexpectedly went to Meng Xiaodong.
Lin Yiyang narrowly lost, securing the silver.
Although Meng Xiaodong's world ranking in Snooker was higher than Lin Yiyang's, his form this year had been poor, something commentators and fans present were well aware of.
In fact, from the first frame of the finals, Meng Xiaodong could already sense that Lin Yiyang was struggling to win.
At such a major international event, with countless eyes watching the live broadcast, Lin Yiyang couldn't afford to slack off, no matter how difficult it was—otherwise, he'd risk being accused of "match-fixing."
Fortunately, the team doctor had reported his injury to the Asian Games committee the day before, giving them a heads-up.
Lin Yiyang gave his all, completing the Snooker finals despite his recurring injury, but this also triggered a full-blown flare-up of his condition by the afternoon.
After lunch, Lin Yiyang's shoulder had swollen completely, requiring constant ice packs as he waited for his next match.
The 10-ball competition started at 2 p.m.
The group stage opponents weren't too strong, and he managed to hold on until the semifinals, where he faced a renowned Indian player—a top contender for the men's 10-ball gold.
Lin Yiyang specialized in 9-ball and Snooker, and most 9-ball players also appeared on the 8-ball rankings. So for him, these three were essentially his main events.
10-ball was just filler.
Both Lin Yiyang and Meng Xiaodong were last-minute additions because there were no better players available.
Under normal, healthy circumstances, he might have been able to put up a fight, but with his arm completely useless, the gap became obvious. Starting from the third frame, he had to frequently switch the cue to his other hand to ease the pain.
Though Lin Yiyang's face showed no sign of agony, everyone on the Chinese team knew their captain had been suffering since the night before.
His opponent noticed too and quietly asked in English, "Are you okay?"
Lin Yiyang shook his head and replied in English, "Keep going."The referee took advantage of the break to ask if he had any issues—did he need to pause the match?
Lin Yiyang shook his head, refusing once again.
He knew his old injury well—pausing wouldn’t help unless he withdrew entirely.
But having made it to the semifinals, quitting now would be a shame.
He left the arena and returned to the Chinese team’s rest area. Before he could even take a sip of water, he was already standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jiang Yang, intently watching Lin Yiyang’s match on screen.
"Good thing you made it to the finals," Jiang Yang said. "No problem with the gold, right?"
"Not sure," Meng Xiaodong answered honestly. "It’s not my main event."
Jiang Yang nodded.
"Luckily, 10-ball isn’t our strong suit," Wu Wei chimed in from the side. "Otherwise, he’d definitely get flak for this."
No need to think twice—people would accuse him of "wasting a spot."
Fortunately, this event wasn’t one where the Chinese team had high medal hopes, nor did they have any top-tier players.
Yin Guo’s eyes remained fixed on the live broadcast.
Lin Yiyang picked up his water bottle, took a sip, and set it back down.
As he reached for his cue, he felt discomfort in his arm. Apologetically, he explained to the referee that his shoulder was bothering him—could he remove his vest?
After the referee consulted with officials, permission was granted.
Lin Yiyang quickly took off his black vest, handed it to the head coach, and returned to the table in a white dress shirt.
Holding his breath, he picked up a piece of chalk powder with his left hand and rubbed it on the tip of his cue…
In truth, he was trying to regain some semblance of form.
That single breath carried him through two more balls.
Only the 10-ball remained on the table—sink this, and he’d win.
He drew his cue back slowly. His shoulder was severely affecting his arm movement, but he still managed to strike the cue ball cleanly. A faint click—audible only to him—and the cue ball shot forward, colliding with the 10-ball.
The moment they connected, he already knew—this shot was shaky.
In the end, the 10-ball hit the corner pocket and bounced out.
A collective gasp filled the arena.
So close—the final ball hadn’t dropped.
Lin Yiyang had effectively handed his ticket to the finals over to his opponent.
Knowing he’d given his all, he straightened up, walked over to the Indian player, and extended his right hand in advance congratulations for the win.
The Indian player smiled warmly and gripped his left hand firmly. "It’s an honor."
"An honor," he echoed with a smile.
The entire audience applauded the sportsmanship of the handshake.
Then he stepped back, watching as his opponent pocketed the 10-ball to end the match.
After the match concluded, Lin Yiyang returned to the rest area.
…
With one hand, he undid a few buttons on his shirt as the team medics rushed to apply an emergency ice pack. Surrounded by two medics and the head coach, his shirt fully unbuttoned, he sat silently in the midst of the Chinese team’s protective circle, letting them tend to him.
Yin Guo watched worriedly from behind the medics.
Lin Yiyang seemed to sense her gaze. He looked up, scanning the area until he found her, then shook his head slightly—a silent reassurance: I’m fine.
Ten minutes later.
The tournament organizers notified Lin Yiyang to return for the 10-ball bronze medal match.
After discussing with the head coach, they concluded that with only ten minutes of rest, playing was impossible—forcing it would risk permanent damage. To preserve his condition for tonight’s Snooker team event, Lin Yiyang and the head coach unanimously decided—to withdraw.With the help of the team doctor, he buttoned up his shirt one by one and tucked it back into the waistband of his trousers. Just as he was about to fasten his belt again, Yin Guo’s hands took over. She helped him secure the metal buckle and gently smoothed out his shirt after he stood up from the seat.
Under the gaze of the entire audience, Lin Yiyang walked to the center of the court and bowed solemnly in apology.
"Lin Yiyang’s old injury has flared up again. Unfortunately, he can only reach the semifinals in the 10-ball event," the commentator said regretfully. "Let’s hope he recovers by tonight and returns to the men’s Snooker team event."
...
In the end, the gold medal for men’s 10-ball went to the Indian team.
Meng Xiaodong managed to secure the silver.
At 4 p.m., the gold medal for women’s 6-red Snooker was awarded to the Hong Kong, China team.
Lin Lin took home a silver.
Yin Guo was eliminated in the semifinals, but this was already a pleasantly surprising result for her. After all, she was a novice who had been hastily trained to fill a spot, unlike Lin Lin, who had been playing both Snooker and 9-ball since childhood.
Yin Guo returned to the rest area and sat down beside Lin Yiyang.
Lin Yiyang was draped in his team jacket, his upper body bare as he applied an ice pack, waiting for the final team event.
"Are all of you from East New City trained in both Snooker and 9-ball?" Yin Guo asked casually, trying to ease his tension. "That’s brutal."
Lin Yiyang smiled and ruffled her hair. "I’ll teach you when we get back. You’ll come again next time."
"Mm."
On the constantly updated medal tally and overall rankings, China remained far ahead, as usual.
"The weightlifting team swept all the golds again," the head coach sighed regretfully. "We’re still lagging behind."
The team collectively turned to look at the head coach—
Why not compare us to the diving team? They not only swept the golds but also stunned the crowd with perfect 10s...
The head coach wasn’t just checking the rankings; he was also refreshing several social media platforms.
"Oh no, our captain had a wardrobe malfunction," the head coach showed everyone the latest post.
Some quick-handed fan had snapped a photo of Lin Yiyang shirtless, applying an ice pack for his injury, and uploaded it online. Jiang Yang glanced at it and smirked. "Did you know you’d have to show off like this? No wonder you worked so hard on those muscles."
Lin Yiyang knew everyone was deliberately joking around to ease the tension.
So he stayed silent, letting them tease him.
He assessed his condition, asked the team doctor for painkillers, and swallowed them with a bottle of water. His mind was fixed on the evening matches—only two team events remained: men’s Snooker team and women’s 9-ball team.
Yin Guo, Lin Lin, and Liu Xiran weren’t too worried about losing the gold in women’s 9-ball.
It was China’s strongest event, and with the three of them teaming up, there was little cause for concern.
The real challenge lay with the three men.
Now, with his injury flaring up, Jiang Yang just recovering from surgery, and Meng Xiaodong’s unstable form, none of them were at their best.
"How are you holding up?" Jiang Yang walked up to Lin Yiyang and asked lightly. "Can you last the whole match?"
He nodded. Gritting his teeth, he could manage, but he wouldn’t be at full strength. "My arm’s not holding up.""What a coincidence," Jiang Yang said with a smile. "Your big brother here is in the same boat—my arm isn't in great shape either." But there was no choice. When signing up, the younger players behind them weren't ready yet, and Li Qingyan was only ranked in the top twenty, far from qualifying for the Asian Games.
Both of them turned to look at Meng Xiaodong—the only fully healthy one among them.
Meng Xiaodong felt like the two of them were setting him up. When dealing with these two from East New City, he’d much rather face them as opponents. As brothers… he still wasn’t entirely at ease.
Jiang Yang patted Meng Xiaodong’s shoulder with deep sincerity. "Lin Yiyang and I have objective injuries—yours is a subjective mental block. Push through it. It’s all up to you now."
Meng Xiaodong was silent for a long moment before nodding.
The next main force would be him. East New City’s Old Six had already given his all—now it was North City’s Old Six’s turn.
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