During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 75: Tide Of Fate (3)

“Sometimes fate is as fickle as a falling leaf, blowing us to unexpected places and into the paths of others we never knew we needed.” – Unknown

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

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Their paths diverged like the arteries of a stadium. Yin Guo strode down the echoing corridor, while Lin Yiyang took a side door leading directly to the player's area.

Inside, Berry, his boisterous laughter echoing off the walls, was regaling a group with some story. He spotted Lin Yiyang and his face broke into a wide grin, his arm shooting out for a celebratory high five.

Lin Yiyang cut him off with a sharp gesture, a playful warning laced with a hint of possessiveness. "Easy there, Berry. Not this time."

Berry chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. Witnessing Lin Yiyang's relentless pursuit of Yin Guo was his personal Mount Everest, the story he'd boast about for years to come.

Yin Guo, a solitary figure, leaned against the wall, his gaze tracking Lin Yiyang's every move. He greeted teammates, his voice friendly yet reserved. This was his second time backstage, but the atmosphere crackled with a different energy. Last year, he was a mystery, a whisper of a name known only to a select few. Today, the faces surrounding him held a mixture of respect and a touch of fear the faces of men he'd faced on the field, men he'd conquered.

Lin Yiyang, his signature baseball cap tucked under his arm, finally peeled away from the throng and headed straight for Yin Guo.

She sank against the cool wallpaper, head tilted back as he neared. He brushed a hand through her hair, the touch lingering before a gentle kiss grazed her forehead. Silent congratulations for reaching the semi-finals.

"I was here last year..." Her voice softened as she slipped a hand into his sweatshirt pocket. "I want to see you play again, the fans chasing after you."

A young player behind Lin Yiyang grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "Fans are waiting outside, glued to the live feed, champ." He switched to English. "Hold off on the usual exit for a bit." The player winked at Yin Guo, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Lin Yiyang offered a small smile, leaving the response unspoken. He preferred the image the local fans held of him right now, the victorious competitor. Now, he was just another face in the crowd.

***
Chen Anan's unexpected surge to the semi-finals overshadowed everything else. That night, the celebratory dinner at RedFish felt like a muted afterthought.

Yin Guo followed them, drawn by the promise of a night out and the whispered legend of RedFish's hidden jazz scene. The bar itself was unremarkable – worn wood, American diner booths, flickering neon signs. The real magic, they said, lay in the music, passed down by word of mouth like a secret handshake.

But as the band launched into a rendition of "Yellow," a discordant note hung in the air. Was it the unexpected song choice, or the way the melody seemed to mock the raging blizzard outside?

Yin Guo found herself mirroring Chen Anan's movements, seeking refuge in a separate booth. Gone was the easy intimacy of the backstage, replaced by a tense silence punctuated only by stolen glances across the crowded room.

Dawn broke, painting the sky a pale, indifferent grey.

Yin Guo asked her cousin about the game last night. Thankfully it was aired at 3 A.M in China. She told her cousin to keep it a secret.

Taking a small sip, she met Lin Yiyang's gaze. "Silence can speak volumes, doesn't it?"

"What are you getting at?" he countered, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.