During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 42: Fall Seven Times, Rise Eight

"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall." - Nelson Mandela

Translator: Wuxia Studio, Editor: M.H Lovecraft (Enochian_)

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9 PM. The clock on the wall flickered mockingly as Lin Yiyang pushed open the heavy oak door, fatigue clinging to him like a second skin.

"Sorry we're closing!" escaped Sun Zhou's lips as he rounded the corner, a stack of papers clutched in his hand. His eyes widened as he recognized Lin Yiyang. "You're back."

Sun Zhou, already halfway out the door, pivoted back. He'd planned to head home and celebrate his anniversary with his wife, but seeing Lin Yiyang's exhausted state, he knew celebrating would have to wait.

He tossed a set of keys on the counter with a clatter. "Here you go. There's a box of veggie salad in the fridge. Didn't have time to cook for dinner. Bread and apples are all that's left." His voice held a hint of worry, as though picturing his boss starving in his absence.

Lin Yiyang slumped onto a stool by the counter, his head hanging low. The incessant chatter seemed to grate on his already-raw nerves. He raised a hand, palm facing outwards, then pointed to his throat with a grimace.

The message was clear, stop talking and go home to your wife. Lin didn't need words to express his desire for silence and solitude. His throat, raw from explaining every monument and landmark in Washington to Yin Guo the previous day, simply couldn't take another word.

Lin Yiyang, too drained to explain the cause of his hoarse voice, simply shook his head, his weary eyes pleading for silence.

Sun Zhou, oblivious to Lin Yiyang's day trip to New York and the nine grueling hours spent traveling, misinterpreted Lin's exhaustion. He mistook it for overexertion related to his girlfriend, Yin Guo.

With a knowing smile, he patted Lin on the back. "Sister-in-law, must be tired too," he said, "Let me cover your shifts for the past two days."

This backhanded compliment didn't go unnoticed by Lin Yiyang. He glanced at Sun Zhou, sensing the unspoken assumptions. Sun Zhou, eager to learn more, intended to pry about Lin Yiyang's post-graduation plans.

Originally, Lin Yiyang aimed for a position at Xinhua News Agency in Washington, allowing him to manage the billiard hall after work. However, a new offer from Duke University, located outside D.C., presented a dilemma. Pursuing the Ph.D. program would necessitate finding help for the ballroom.

Exhausted and drained, Lin Yiyang watched Sun Zhou leave, the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air. After a moment's pause, Sun Zhou finally offered a brief explanation about the billiard hall, his voice hushed. "Just one thing," he said, "Those who participated in the competition from our hall, they're gone, already left for New York today."

Knowing Lin Yiyang's disinterest in sports, Sun simply intended to inform him that the participants had departed. Lin Yiyang acknowledged him with an okay gesture, urging him to leave with a dismissive wave. His gesture was clear, go home, be with your wife.

Lin Yiyang shut the heavy metal door separating the billiard hall from the elevator shaft, locking it behind him with a finality that mirrored his exhaustion. He moved towards the refrigerator, pulling out the box of vegetable salad.

He emptied it onto a plate, adding some fruit alongside. Washing a fork, he sat at the counter, slowly starting his meal. Two bites in, the heat overcame him, prompting him to shrug off his jacket once more.