During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 76: Lasting Impact

“A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.” - Henry Adams

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

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Lin: My mentor passed away.

The joyous chatter around her seemed to fade into a distant hum. A cold sweat prickled Yin Guo's hands. She clutched her phone tighter, her gaze glued to the screen.

Lin: I'm on the plane.

Lin: Concentrate on the game. Coming back wouldn't help. I can't be here for the next two days.

Lin: I'll turn off my phone first, I'll chat with you back when I'm back in China.

Yin Guo slid against the wall, her mind a swirling vortex. The weight of the news settled in her chest, heavy and suffocating.

Her grandparents were still there, and where her grandfather left, she was only a few years old, she barely remembered. So, she can't feel how painful it is for Lin Yiyang to lose his mentor.

A pang of empathy shot through her as she recalled Meng Xiaodong's silence that stretched for three days after his mother's passing.

Lin Yiyang, she realized, was likely cut from the same cloth. Some wore their grief on their sleeves, a storm of tears for everyone to witness. Others, like Lin Yiyang, bore it stoically, a silent wound festering within.

She really wants to go back and be with him.

The garish caller ID burned into Yin Guo's vision, snapping her out of her daze. It was Meng Xiaodong. A thick lump formed in her throat as she picked up, her voice barely a whisper, "Ge.."

Meng Xiaodong's voice, usually booming with confidence, crackled with raw grief. He spoke in short, clipped sentences, explaining the suddenness of her grandfather's passing. Just that morning, the old man had been walking around, seemingly healthy. Now, an empty chair mocked them at the breakfast table.

"I booked you a ticket for the two o'clock flight," Meng Xiaodong continued, his voice hoarse. "There's nothing available today. Even if you catch the earliest train tomorrow, you'd only make it a few hours earlier. Honestly, Xiaoguo..." He hesitated, then sighed. "Even if you come back, he won't know."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, her cousin's voice cut through the quiet. "Xiaoguo?"

Yin Guo squeezed her eyes shut, pressing the back of her hand against them, willing the tears back. "Yeah," she croaked, her voice thick with nasal congestion.

"Finish the game first," her cousin said firmly. "We need that gold medal or at least a silver." Beicheng's reputation is on the line, especially with Meng Xiaodong in this state. "You're our best shot, the successor I've been training. This match is crucial.

Yin Guo whispered a barely audible "I know," the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders like a leaden cloak.

Meng Xiaodong's voice softened, a hint of concern cutting through his grief. "Don't cry at the scene, Xiaoguo. Focus on your game. We can't afford distractions right now."

Yin Guo nodded, her throat tight, and scurried towards the bathroom, tears stinging her eyes.

As soon as Meng Xiaodong hung up, a notification popped on his phone. It was a screenshot from their cousin, Tiantian, accompanied by four question marks, hinting at confusion.

The image sent a jolt through him. It was a screenshot of Lin Yiyang's circle of friends. Three minutes prior, there had been one more post: a simple message, "Time is ruthless," accompanied by a heart-wrenching image.