During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 66: Silent Recognation

"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." - Maya Angelou

Translator: Wuxia Studio, Editor: Twins Fantastic

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The door creaked open, and Lin Yiyang stepped into his apartment. A plume of steam billowed from the bathroom, hinting at Jiang Yang's recent shower. There he was, sprawled on the sofa, upper body bare, tossing a prepared letter of intent onto the green table with a dull thud. The paper landed right in front of Lin Yiyang.

"Look at it."

Lin Yiyang raised an eyebrow, a crease forming between his brows. "Didn't you see it?" he questioned, his hand instinctively reaching for his phone.

"After all, it's a big deal," Jiang Yang said, fiddling with his gold-rimmed glasses before settling them baczk on his nose. He peered at Lin Yiyang, a hint of condescension in his voice. "According to me, it's better for me to take the lead, and you should contribute less."

Lin Yiyang propped himself on the worn flannel table with one hand, the other dismissively waving in Jiang Yang's direction. "We are fellow disciple, we will contribute equally," he countered, his jaw firm.

A wide grin split Jiang Yang's face. "You and I are more like family than friends."

"It's even more important that the contribution were equal," Lin Yiyang countered, his voice firm. "There can't be any impurities that affect the relationship."

With practiced ease, he flipped through the agreement, his eyes scanning the pages intently.

"We're both adults. You should know this better than anyone else. Good friends don't get tangled up in money."

Jiang Yang sighed, a hint of exasperation escaping his lips. "It's different, little junior brother," he said, his voice tinged with a touch of nostalgia. "It's really different from when we were kids."

Lin Yiyang snatched the pen from Jiang Yang's grasp, his movement swift and decisive. He flipped to the last page of the contract, his finger stabbing down on a specific spot. "Here?"

"Yes," Jiang Yang confirmed, his voice softer now. "Six copies, all signed from our senior brothers, the only lacking is your signature."

Lin Yiyang signed each page with a flourish, the penmanship reflecting his unwavering resolve. The six contracts sat stacked on the table, a silent testament to their agreement. He pushed the pile towards Jiang Yang, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before both men looked away.

The warm glow of the lamp illuminated the stack of documents not just one letter of intent, but six. These weren't for any ordinary purchase; they were a belated gift, a promise kept by six apprentices for their beloved teacher, He Wenfeng.

Unlike Lin Yiyang and Jiang Yang who joined the fold during their teacher's golden years, the first four senior brothers missed those times. They retired before the industry boomed, leaving them with a reputation but little financial reward, mirroring He Wenfeng's own situation.

Now, under Jiang Yang's leadership, the two younger apprentices had secured a house. They planned to present it to their teacher after the China Open, a gift from all six apprentices, a symbol of their enduring respect and a way to finally give their teacher the financial security he deserved.

Lin Yiyang entered Dongxincheng in the second grade, He Wenfeng nurturing his skills not just on the field but as a man. The debt of gratitude he felt towards his teacher was a weight heavier than any entanglement.