During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 73: Tide Of Fate

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt

Translator: Wuxia Studio, Editor: Maimai Exclusive.

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Tuesday marked the beginning of the tournament's group stage. Yin Guo, a force to be reckoned with, had dominated her matches, her talent undeniable. But the final day brought a formidable opponent: the legendary American player, Ashly.

The stadium buzzed with an electric energy. The crowd, a sea of faces, watched as Yin Guo found herself down 5-10. Yet, a flicker of defiance ignited in her eyes. She clawed her way back, each point a testament to her unwavering spirit. Four magnificent clearances in a row silenced the room, then erupted into a thunderous roar as she snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, 11-10.

Yin Guo, the foreign underdog, had stolen the hearts of the local fans. A standing ovation washed over her, a wave of appreciation for her grit and determination. Buoyed by this win and her exceptional form, she secured her place in the quarterfinals, along with Chen An'an who, in her last competition, had also made a remarkable journey to this stage.

Saturday arrived - a day for champions to be crowned. The clock struck 1:25 pm. Yin Guo, freshly changed, returned to the players' lounge, her eyes scanning the room. Where's Lin Yiyang?

A nagging worry gnawed at Yin Guo. Lin Yiyang, despite promising to return for her match, was absent. The past few days, he'd been in Washington, reconnecting with old friends and tending to his billiard hall there. This news, however, couldn't quell the disquiet that settled in her stomach.

Yin Guo adhered to a pre-game ritual. Her phone lay silenced, a self-imposed restriction to maintain focus. This time, the silence felt deafening, amplifying her anxieties.

Promptly at 1:30 pm, she arrived at the venue, thirty minutes early as always. Su Wei, her closest confidante, walked alongside her. As they entered the arena corridors, Su Wei leaned in, her voice hushed.

"I bumped into Lin Yiyang earlier," Su Wei revealed, her eyes filled with concern. "Did you know? Two days ago, he was interviewed by a reporter in Washington. Apparently, there's news circulating that he's barred from participating in future American nine-ball competitions."

Yin Guo's heart skipped a beat. "He had mentioned it," she admitted quietly, "But it's exhausting."

Lin Yiyang wasn't just a player; he was a phenomenon. His style, unorthodox yet captivating, had revitalized the nine-ball scene. Over the past year, he'd racked up trophies and ignited a spark in a community often considered niche. Casual viewers, drawn to his unique approach, swelled the ranks of fans.

Now, this rising star, blazing brightly at his peak, announced his departure. The news exploded online, igniting a firestorm of reactions. Fans rallied, desperate to keep him. Frustration and pleas intertwined in a sea of comments, a testament to the impact he'd made. But beneath the chaos, a single message resonated deeply with Yin Guo - a message aimed at Lin Yiyang, a stark accusation. "Actually, he's a ruthless man."

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A cacophony of cheers erupted from the stands, halting Yin Guo and Su Wei in their tracks. The sound was muffled, originating from the south entrance - her entry point. A knot of anticipation tightened in Yin Guo's stomach.

Straining to see over the throng, she heard a single, insistent chant: "Lin! Lin!

Then, he appeared. Lin Yiyang, shrouded in an all-black ensemble, materialized amidst a sea of enthusiastic fans. Despite the baseball cap pulled low, his disguise was futile. These were his people the die-hard locals who'd witnessed his rise from local champion to national star.