During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 78: Action Speak Louder

"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

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

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Yin Guo's mother is talking with her colleagues from the Sports Bureau. When Yin Guo arrived, she said hello to her mother first and followed Meng Xiaodong inside the hall.

Yin Guo clutched the strap of her bag, a nervous habit that flared whenever she felt out of place. She stole a glance at Meng Xiaodong, his face uncharacteristically somber.

A simple portrait of Mr. He dominated the room a stern-faced man with kind eyes that seemed to hold a lifetime of unspoken stories. Wreaths of white lilies and chrysanthemums overflowed from stands around the perimeter, the scent heavy and cloying.

Yin Guo's heart ached. The snippets of conversation she overheard painted a picture of a family fractured by loss. Two daughters, one gone too soon, leaving a child behind. A son-in-law and a handful of apprentices the weight of grief and responsibility settling heavily on their shoulders.

Meng Xiaodong dipped a pen into the inkwell at the entrance, his movements deliberate. He signed the book, then offered the pen to Yin Guo, his touch lingering on hers for a fleeting moment. A silent question hung in the air had she seen him yet?

Yin Guo scanned the room, a cold knot forming in her stomach. The sea of faces blurred, none of them the one she desperately hoped to find. Disappointment pricked at her, a sharp counterpoint to the somber mood of the hall.

Yin Guo's thumb hovered over her phone screen, the familiar glow of a beacon in the muted light. Should she send a message, a simple “I'm here” to Lin Yiyang? But a voice, warm and familiar, cut through her thoughts. It was Wu Wei, his presence a comfort in the unfamiliar space.

A group descended the stairs, Lin Yiyang at the forefront, Jiang Yang by his side. Both were clad in black, a stark contrast to the colors of life swirling around them. It had only been three days since she'd last seen him, a fleeting glimpse after his early return from the Open. Yet, his form seemed gaunt, a hollowness etched into his face that mirrored the loss of weight clinging to his frame. His once well-fitting shirt hung loosely, a silent testament to his inner turmoil.

Yin Guo's gaze met his, and a sharp pang shot through her chest. It felt like a physical blow, a blade twisting in her heart. Lin Yiyang's steps faltered, the world seeming to slow its pace around him. All eyes turned, a silent vigil, but no words, no gestures to break the heavy weight of grief. As he paused, Jiang Yang and the others behind him mirrored his stance, the weight of responsibility settling on their shoulders.

Yin Guo held her breath, trapped in a scene unfolding in slow motion. There, just a meter away, stood the man she ached for. Lin Yiyang's mind, usually a whirlwind of plans and decisions, was a barren landscape. The weight of the past few days, the endless arrangements and pronouncements, had left him numb. He looked at his girlfriend, the one person he longed to confide in, yet words failed him.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until Meng Xiaodong stepped in. His voice, a gentle nudge, broke the spell.

"If there's anything you need, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."

Lin Yiyang offered a grateful pat on Meng Xiaodong's arm. The silent gesture spoke volumes, the help in keeping Yin Guo calm over the past two days, ensuring her smooth arrival and safe return, was enough.

He finally met Yin Guo's gaze, a deep well of unspoken emotions swirling within it. "The ceremony's about to start," he said, his voice rough. "I'll head in first."