During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 46: The Power Of Connection

"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched they must be felt with the heart." - Helen Keller

Translator: Wuxia Studio, Editor: J.C Forester (Mrphysit)

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The roar of the arena used to be his symphony, a testament to his reign as the undisputed king at the tender age of thirteen. But today, a different melody filled the air  the amused giggles of a young girl who, barely a season into her professional debut, had just declared him as her queen.

Lin Yiyang gently reached out, his fingers brushing against hers before withdrawing. A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "The year I won the championship," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "You were just a little girl in elementary school."

Yin Guo, the girl who dared to challenge the king, simply smiled in response, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. As she turned and bid farewell, the echoes of laughter from the two boys behind Lin Yiyang pierced the silence.

He straightened, his smile fading into a steely resolve. "Let's go," he said, his voice firm, a quiet declaration that the king, though challenged, was not yet overthrown

--

Stepping out of the lounge, Lin Yiyang was greeted by the bustle of departure. Meng Xiaodong, his old rival from Beicheng, stood amidst the group, each member clutching their cues and luggage, the picture of a team prepared to leave the arena.

Their eyes met, a silent acknowledgment across the years. Just moments ago, in the confines of the lounge, it was as if Meng Xiaodong had never existed, yet here he was, a constant melody returning in the symphony of Lin Yiyang's life.

The years, etched in the meticulous details of Meng Xiaodong's attire - every button from cuff to neck meticulously fastened and passed  served as a poignant reminder. A wry smile touched Lin Yiyang's lips.

"Let's have a drink,"

The words hung in the air, an unexpected olive branch proffered by Meng Xiaodong. Behind him, murmurs rippled through the Beicheng contingent, their brows furrowed in confusion.

Even the future brother-in-law seemed bewildered by Meng Xiaodong sudden enthusiasm, a stark contrast to his usual stoicism. Little did they know, this trip to New York wasn't primarily about Yin Guo's debut.

It was about bridging a long-standing gap, a silent plea to reconnect with the man who had vanished years ago and once wouldn't even spare a greeting in the shared lounge.

Lin Yiyang's lips curved into a knowing smile. Before he could respond, a voice chimed in from behind him, the answer ringing with unwavering support: "Of course."

Jiang Yang, a glint in his eyes, subtly repositioned his Dongxincheng crew, creating space for them to observe the unfolding scene.

"It's not every day the two snooker powerhouses find themselves at a nine-ball tournament," he declared, his voice carrying a subtle edge. "Since fate has brought us together, wouldn't it be fitting to make the most of it? Consider it a chance for these youngsters to witness a true legend firsthand."

"Find a place." Meng Xiaodong's gaze swept over them.

Jiang Yang, ever the strategist, stepped forward, placing a hand on Lin Yiyang's shoulder. "Let's do it," he declared, his voice firm. "I'll book a suite at the hotel. We can buy whatever we like and drink in comfort."