Chapter 9: The World Beneath the Snow (5)
Back in their youth, before fame found them, everyone at the billiard club had nicknames for each other.
He was "Dun Cuo," Jiang Yang was "The Bandit," Wu Wei was "Whatever," Fan Wencong was "The Peddler," Lin Lin was "The Boss," and Chen Anan—because her name sounded feminine—was called "Sister An." And so on, the list went. The club had several coaches, and they were all trained by different mentors. Among He Lao's disciples, he and Jiang Yang were the most talented. People often said that after taking in six apprentices, He Lao had finally found two gifted kids before retiring—with Lin Yiyang being the most naturally skilled of all, and one who had sought him out on his own.
At thirteen, they loved competing in domestic professional tournaments.
After that, if anyone placed, especially as champion or runner-up, they’d jokingly honor each other with the title "Ye."
Jiang Yang had won a championship first, earning him "Yang Ye." By the time it was Lin Yiyang’s turn, he had to settle for a "Little" prefix—blame it on their shared last syllable, though with different characters.
"Why’d you switch to nine-ball?" Lin Yiyang asked Jiang Yang.
Jiang Yang played snooker, so it was odd that he’d trained a group of kids in nine-ball.
"They’re my students, but Sister An’s coaching them. She switched to nine-ball years ago. This time, she had family matters and couldn’t come early, so she asked me to bring the kids ahead of time."
"Isn’t the competition in April?" If Lin Yiyang remembered correctly, Wu Wei and Yin Guo were both scheduled for that period.
"The junior and youth divisions are in March," Wu Wei answered for Jiang Yang.
"Oh." Lin Yiyang took another sip of beer.
On the couch, the kids craned their necks, eager to chat with their "Little Uncle."
"Keep talking. I’m heading down for dinner."
Lin Yiyang returned to his room, pulled on his cold-proof clothing, slipped bare feet into his sneakers, and grabbed his keys and wallet before striding through the living room. Only at the last moment, seeing the kids all staring at him, did he relent slightly and wave a hand in farewell.
The door closed.
He descended the stairs slowly, step by step.
Two minutes outside, he found himself at the same ramen shop. His memory was sharp—he recalled the exact bowl Yin Guo had eaten that night, down to the toppings. At this hour, the place wasn’t crowded, and the owner, now free, took a seat across from Lin Yiyang.
They’d known each other for a year.
Lin Yiyang spoke Japanese; the owner spoke English. Between them, they always managed lively conversations.
"That girl last night—the one you brought—she was very pretty," the owner remarked.
Lin Yiyang chuckled as he lifted noodles with his chopsticks.
"She’s the kind you want to know the moment you see her," the owner, a man in his forties, added knowingly.
Lin Yiyang didn’t deny it.
"When was it? The day you met her, I mean?" the owner asked.
"That night. The night I slept here."
The owner immediately remembered: "The blizzard."
That night, the city had been buried in snow.
After escorting Yin Guo back to her hotel, he’d returned to the apartment only to realize he hadn’t brought his keys. The two sisters who lived there were stranded on the other side of town and hadn’t come back.
Luckily, the kind shop owner had taken him in, letting him sleep in the restaurant overnight.
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 carried her suitcase to the hotel entrance, and Yin Guo had bowed deeply, thanking him earnestly. The image had been utterly endearing. As he lay in the ramen shop that night, her polite gratitude replayed in his mind over and over.
Social media really was a wonderful thing.Yin Guo had no idea that when she sent him a friend request on WeChat, Lin Yiyang had just entered the subway platform.
It wasn’t until he saw her first WeChat Moments post—an announcement about signing up for the Open—that he realized the cue stick placed on top of the three suitcases didn’t belong to her younger brother, but to her, the sister. Afraid the subway might have poor signal and prevent him from loading the content, he lingered at the station entrance for a full hour. During that hour, he scrolled through her Moments, gathering every bit of information about her.
What she didn’t know was how many match reports and videos of her he had watched on the bus ride back from Washington, D.C. to New York.
How could he describe her?
If Lin Yiyang himself was a free-spirited player, then Yin Guo was the epitome of composure—flawless, as if all personal emotions vanished the moment she stepped onto the court.
How many crushing defeats had it taken to forge that?
He could almost picture her daily training—being honed and challenged by top players, relentlessly drilling her mental resilience under pressure.
In the past, Lin Yiyang had always been hailed by the billiard club’s coaches as a natural-born talent.
But the truth was, his favorite kind of player was someone like Yin Guo.
You could tell she had talent, but what stood out even more was the sheer effort she poured into it. No matter how far she went, players like her would always be met with the most fervent applause—because she earned it.
Everyone would congratulate her wholeheartedly, because she truly deserved it.
Ten long days.
Lin Yiyang had gone through every piece of information about her career.
Yesterday, just to catch a glimpse of her, he changed his train tickets three times, finally squeezing in a window to invite Meng Xiaotian for coffee at that café. But when Yin Guo actually appeared before him, he had no idea how to start the conversation.
He couldn’t very well say, I’ve watched all your matches, from childhood to now—even dug through fan gossip posts about you.
Nor could he say, Two of your matches were so brilliant they could’ve been tournament highlights. If I’d been your opponent in that state, I wouldn’t have been confident of winning either.
And he definitely couldn’t say, Your brother Meng Xiaodong and I faced off many times in tournaments—we were pretty much rivals. Ask him, he’ll remember me.
In the end, Lin Yiyang said nothing. He just watched her step into the café, bathed in sunlight.
He saw her pause in surprise, watched her steady herself before slowly walking to the table, slinging her backpack over the chair, and taking her seat. Only then did he slide a menu toward her: “See anything you’d like?”
Talking was hard. Treating her to something was much easier.
…
Lin Yiyang snapped out of his thoughts and went back to eating his noodles.
“Last night, when you were here, you barely spoke to her,” the owner remarked with a smile.
“In the past… my words could cut deep. I hurt a lot of people. Especially over the phone—when you can’t see someone’s face, misunderstandings pile up.”
Not that face-to-face was much better.
Last night’s subway conversation had felt like a forced blind date.
“We’ve just met. She doesn’t know me yet,” he added.
He meant that Yin Guo didn’t know him.
Past, present, and future—the two of them were never supposed to cross paths.
The noodle shop owner seemed to understand Lin Yiyang’s predicament perfectly. With a chuckle, he said, “My wife was my high school classmate. For the longest time, I couldn’t talk to her normally either. Later, she told me she’d been really upset back then—thought I hated her.” The owner took a plate of wasabi octopus from a waiter and set it beside Lin Yiyang’s bowl.The boss finally advised him, "Say what you truly feel—she'll sense it."
Yin Guo was in the pool hall, practicing with Su Wei.
For some reason, her mind seemed elsewhere today, leading to several missed shots. Su Wei teased her repeatedly, asking if she’d spent the night with the regional champion and lost her focus. At first, Yin Guo just smiled without responding, but after being ribbed one too many times, she had to clarify that her relationship with Lin Yiyang was nothing special.
In fact, Yin Guo believed that before last night, Lin Yiyang might have even disliked her.
Su Wei, of course, didn’t buy it.
To prove her point, Yin Guo showed Su Wei their WeChat chat history.
Clean and straightforward.
Every conversation showed Yin Guo being warm and friendly, sending long self-introductions and frequent overtures to build a friendship. Yet every exchange ended with Lin Yiyang’s icy replies—either "No need to be polite," or "Sure," or just an emoji to shut it down.
Especially in Washington, when she thanked him for hosting her cousin, his response was a cold "Sure" with an emoji. That had genuinely stung. After that, they didn’t exchange a single word for ten whole days.
If she still deluded herself into thinking he had feelings for her after all that, she’d be beyond self-absorbed...
"I take back what I said earlier," Su Wei handed the phone back. "Did you offend him somehow?"
It was a testament to Yin Guo’s patience—Su Wei would’ve given up long ago.
Yin Guo smiled helplessly. "I might’ve upset him a little when we first met."
Su Wei was tired too and suggested they take a ten-minute break. She set down her cue and went outside for some air.
Left alone on the pool chair, Yin Guo idly scrolled through WeChat when it occurred to her—she’d never checked his Moments.
She quietly opened it—
Nothing. Not a single post.
He was a man without a social media presence.
Lin Yiyang leaned against the ramen shop’s wall, pulling out his phone to open Yin Guo’s chat window.
He meticulously reviewed every message between them, from the first exchange to last night, not missing a single one. What should he say? He pressed a finger against the empty glass liquor bottle, spinning it in circles as he pondered.
Outside, Jiang Yang, clad in a black padded jacket, stepped to the edge of the stairs and crouched halfway, waving at Lin Yiyang through the glass door. The shop owner asked, "Looking for you?"
"Yeah," Lin Yiyang pocketed his phone, left cash for the meal, hastily threw on his coat, and pushed the door open.
In the cold wind, he hopped up two steps.
"I had the coach take the kid back to the hotel first," Jiang Yang tilted his head toward the right. "Wu Wei mentioned there’s a pool hall nearby. Come on, let’s play a game. Brothers should meet properly."
Lin Yiyang wanted to refuse.
But for some reason—maybe because he’d just been figuring out how to message Yin Guo—his mood was better than when he’d woken up that morning.
He didn’t speak, just nodded, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Jiang Yang toward the next block.
Jiang Yang pulled out a vape, popped the cap, inserted a small paper stick, and took a deep drag after heating it. "Honestly, I’ve always admired you. Out of our group, only Wu Wei was decent at studying. Him making it this far isn’t surprising—but you? Nobody saw that coming."Jiang Yang smiled. "Back then, both of us were at the bottom of the class rankings, right? Out of about forty students, were you even in the top thirty?"
"Middle school? Roughly," he recalled.
Kids in the billiard club rarely had good grades. At that time, some were sent there by open-minded parents as an alternative path when they couldn't keep up with academics. Others came from families already in the business—those who ran pool halls and had the right environment to start directly. Lin Yiyang himself had poor grades in middle school.
After quitting the club in high school, he got motivated and studied day and night. Between making money and hitting the books, it was truly tough.
Even during these three years studying abroad, what kind of work hadn't he done?
In his first year, when part-time jobs weren't allowed, he followed Chinese tour buses around, taking under-the-table gigs to earn cash...
Money wasn't easy to come by. Even Wu Wei had nagged him—why not choose a cheaper school instead of one with such steep tuition? But after grumbling twice, Wu Wei dropped it. He knew this was partly Lin Yiyang's way of proving a point.
Lin Yiyang stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked up at the distant flow of traffic.
These past dozen years, his climb had been grueling—all because of one sentence from his mentor: "Lin Yiyang, without a home to call your own, once you leave this billiard club and put down your cue, you're nothing."
Now, he stood here, solid. Whatever he wanted to be, he was.
He could pick up a cue, and he could put it down. Either way, he'd survive.
"These years haven't been easy, have they?" Jiang Yang studied his junior.
Lin Yiyang turned back, grinning effortlessly. "Since when has anything been hard for me?"
Same as always.
Jiang Yang chuckled, took another drag from his vape, and patted his shoulder. "True. For our Young Master Yang, nothing's impossible."
Lin Yiyang side-eyed the vape in Jiang Yang's hand. Catching the look, Jiang Yang fished out a freshly bought pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his coat pocket, shoving them over. "I switch between these—trying to quit."
Lin Yiyang glanced down, peeled off the plastic wrap from the pack, then changed his mind. He stuffed everything—wrap, cigarettes, lighter—back into Jiang Yang's pocket.
"What's this?" Jiang Yang laughed. "Not like you."
"How many years has it been since you last saw me?" Lin Yiyang shot back.
As they talked, they entered the pool hall.
The owner spotted Lin Yiyang, grinned, and immediately turned to fetch a large ice bucket filled with seven or eight beers. He set it in front of Lin Yiyang and pointed to a table.
Lin Yiyang hoisted the bucket and headed to his usual spot. Setting it down, he skipped selecting a cue and cracked open a beer first, taking a swig. "Drinking's fine here, but no smoking. Put that thing away—"
He bit back the words "that girly vape."
"Pick your cue," he tilted his head toward the rack.
Lin Yiyang took another gulp, set the bottle down, and watched as Jiang Yang chose his stick. Without fuss, Lin Yiyang grabbed the one on the far right.
Jiang Yang arranged the nine balls into a diamond on the blue felt.
As Lin Yiyang located the cue ball, Jiang Yang casually asked, "Last night, I saw Wu Wei post something."
Lin Yiyang's hand paused.
"Some girl? Which country? What's her skin tone?"
Lin Yiyang pointed to his own dark pupils. "Chinese."He bounced the white ball in his hand a couple of times before adding, "Just met her. Not as mysterious as Wu Wei made it out to be. Besides," he bent down from the side of the table and placed the white ball on the break line, "she might not even be interested in me."
"Since when are you so lacking in confidence?" Jiang Yang chuckled in surprise, pointing at the white ball to signal Lin Yiyang to break. "People should recognize their strengths and play to them. For you, seduction would obviously be the easiest route, little junior."
Lin Yiyang shot him a glare but didn't respond, instead bending down to adjust his cue.
Taking aim at the white ball.
With a forceful strike from his right hand, the white ball shot forward with a sharp crack, scattering the array of color balls across the table. The sound of balls dropping into pockets was nearly continuous, leaving only three balls on the table. Eventually, even the nine-ball rolled toward the pocket in front of Jiang Yang and dropped in with a satisfying clink.
The nine-ball sank directly.
A break shot, and he had already won the first game.
Jiang Yang whistled in appreciation.
Lin Yiyang straightened up, took a swig from a bottle of alcohol, and stared at the two remaining color balls on the table, deep in thought. What should he text her? When chatting with a girl... should he start with a sticker?
Author's Note: I changed Jiang Yang's name from Jiang Yang to Jiang Yang because it looks better in writing, especially since he's one of the main characters (this is an ensemble story).
P.S. Several readers have asked about "Dun Cuo." Let me clarify here—this nickname appeared in the earliest version of Chapter 2. Later, I decided not to introduce it so early, so I revised and replaced it the next day. At that time, Wu Wei was still called "Wu Suowei," but I changed it to Wu Wei.
Some readers missed it, but those who followed the serialization closely saw the original "Dun Cuo" and "Wu Suowei."
Another P.S. The first major arc was written from the female lead's perspective, while the second major arc is from the male lead's. Now that the second arc is complete, it might be interesting to revisit the first one.
Also, they just met—there's no deep affection yet, so no need to overanalyze him. He's just curious and wants to get to know her...
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