AaSoL 07
Chapter 7: The World Beneath the Snow (3)
Some pedestrians were holding umbrellas, others walked quickly, but only Lin Yiyang and Yin Guo walked at a steady pace. Lin Yiyang seemed very familiar with this neighborhood. He turned left, leading her down a narrow sidewalk, pulling Yin Guo to his right side.
On their left were a series of apartment buildings, each with a set of stairs sloping down to the basement. The steps were covered in thick snow, making them hard to see. If someone wasn’t careful, it would be easy to trip and fall.
So, it made sense for him to walk on the left side, for safety.
Of course, Yin Guo didn’t understand his reasoning.
She just thought that Lin Yiyang probably had a bit of a compulsive disorder, switching between the left and right sides every now and then—such a strange person.
After another turn, they reached the narrow staircase leading to the subway entrance.
Yin Guo stamped the snow off her shoes and followed Lin Yiyang down the stairs.
On the steps, there was a trail of wet footprints—his, followed by her own. Lin Yiyang stopped at the very bottom of the stairs, waiting for her. Inside the subway station, there were three homeless men lying in corners, each seeking shelter from the wind, one of them right next to the ticket machine.
Yin Guo took her credit card from her wallet and approached the vending machine to buy a ticket, politely stepping around the men.
“Come with me,” Lin Yiyang said behind her. “The train’s coming.”
Inside, the subway roared as it approached, the noise from the tracks growing louder.
New York’s subway is unpredictable. On a snowy day, if you catch a train, you’re lucky. It was too late to buy a ticket. Lin Yiyang pulled Yin Guo away from the machine and guided her to the turnstile. He swiped his metro card.
He swiped again and entered himself.
Before Yin Guo could even get a good look at the platform, she was already pushed into the car.
The doors closed behind her.
She glanced around, and it was the dirtiest car she had ever seen.
No air conditioning, no electronic display, and no idea whether the speaker system worked…
No one else?
The entire car was empty, except for her and Lin Yiyang. Two rows of orange empty seats were waiting for them. She pointed to one seat, and when she saw Lin Yiyang didn’t object, she sat by the door.
Lin Yiyang sat next to her, taking the cue case off his shoulder and placing it beside his leg.
It was the only thing he was carrying, and it belonged to her. Aside from his phone and wallet, this man had brought nothing else. He had just come to Flushing to gamble without any fuss. He was truly carefree.
Both their shoes had snow residue, leaving puddles on the subway floor.
The subway car had no signal, so she couldn’t get online or pass the time. There was no view outside—just blackness, and the sound of the train moving, filling the empty space.
Lin Yiyang wasn’t one for talking, and she had almost gotten used to it, so she tried to act as a bridge between them.
“We—” she started, unsure of how to continue.
Lin Yiyang turned his gaze toward her and looked at her face.
She continued, “We haven’t really properly introduced ourselves.”
Her face was pale with a hint of pink, her nose small, her eyes large but not round, more elongated with very noticeable double eyelids. Because her hair was tied up, the outline of her face was fully exposed, round and soft, with a chin that wasn’t sharp, giving her a youthful appearance. She looked sweet, with no aggressive features.
“How do you want to introduce yourself?” Lin Yiyang met her gaze.
“I’m Yin Guo.”
“You said that in your first message,” he reminded her.
…Oh, right. She’d completely forgotten.
She forced herself to continue, “I’m in my fourth year with my brother. The rest, he’s probably told you.”
They were both in their last year, with no classes since it was their “internship period” as required by their school. She wanted to move into professional 9-ball, while her cousin wanted to study abroad, so they naturally decided to spend the internship time in New York.
Lin Yiyang nodded.
After she finished speaking, it was his turn.
Lin Yiyang was silent for a moment before asking her, “You’ve seen all my valid documents. Is there anything else you want to know?”
When he asked this, there was a hint of a smile on his face, with a touch of teasing.
His nationality, birth date, and place of birth were clearly listed on those documents, and even his school ID was shown to her. He couldn’t think of anything else to share except for his major.
“I didn’t look closely last time. I didn’t check your privacy,” she explained.
She only knew he was 27, six years older than her.
Lin Yiyang smiled.
“I did my undergrad in China, worked for two years after graduation, but found it boring, so I came here,” he leaned back in his seat and casually told her, “I’m studying communications part-time here, in my third year, this is my last year.”
He paused, then added, “I mostly live in DC, occasionally come to New York.”
After a brief pause, he said, “That’s it. If you want to know anything, just ask.”
“I don’t have anything else to ask.” She smiled helplessly.
Well, that conversation was dry, she might as well have not spoken.
They sat side by side, quietly.
As the subway entered a station, it reminded her of something more urgent. She had been in such a rush when she got on that she hadn’t sent the message she wrote earlier.
She quickly checked for signal as the train stopped.
Holding up her phone, she tried to find signal, shaking it left and right, but whether it was because of the snow or poor signal at this station, she couldn’t connect to either mobile or Wi-Fi networks. She had to watch as the train started moving again, still no signal.
“Didn’t send?” Lin Yiyang noticed her struggle.
“It’s been like this. No signal at all.” Yin Guo sighed, showing him her phone.
Lin Yiyang glanced at the screen.
On the screen was her unsent message:
Xiao Guo: I’m starving, is there any instant noodles in the room? If not, can you go buy a pizza? It’ll be the last chance before they close.
She really couldn’t understand, she asked Lin Yiyang, “Is it because I’m using a Chinese phone number? Is that making it harder to connect?”
“It might affect it a bit. You can wait until you change trains and send it after getting off.”
Well, that was the only option.
She sighed and put the phone away.
Unexpectedly, Lin Yiyang took out his phone, starting to chat with someone as the train just left the station.
When they were fully in the tunnel, he put his phone back in his pocket and asked, “Are you hungry?”
Yin Guo was caught off guard for a second, but then she understood after thinking about her message.
“I’m fine, I can hold on.”
She could make it until they got back to the hotel, it shouldn’t be a big deal.
“Hold on? So you’ll just eat pizza when you get back?” He chuckled.
What should she do?
She didn’t want that: “Our hotel is too far out. At this time, the only pizza available is at a gas station supermarket.”
“Wu Wei, the guy with the glasses, told me to have ramen,” Lin Yiyang casually asked. “Do you want to go?”
Now?
“Isn’t it too late?” She hesitated.
“We can take the subway there. It’s just three stops,” he glanced at his watch and offered a friendly suggestion, “We can go first and then continue on the subway afterward.”
Then he added, “I haven’t eaten either.”
On this snowy night, hearing “ramen” made her mind flash with images of—steaming rich broth, tender pork bones, seaweed, kimchi, corn… her hesitation vanished.
She could go without eating, but to make him wait for her in an empty stomach… that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, since neither of them had eaten, it seemed like a better option than eating dry pizza.
Thinking that way, she felt like she should go, not just for herself, but for him too.
Yin Guo agreed immediately.
Instead of changing lines, they took the subway straight to three stops.
When they arrived at the ramen shop, they found several people standing outside in the snow, waiting for a table. Lin Yiyang led Yin Guo through the crowd and into a basement ramen shop.
The moment the glass door opened, the smell hit them.
At every table, large ramen bowls steamed with white mist. The narrow aisles were full, and the hot air inside felt perfect. It was definitely the best decision of the day.
Wu Wei had already reserved a four-person table inside. Seeing them, he waved with a smile, “Here.”
This was Yin Guo’s second time meeting Wu Wei. After a friendly greeting, she dropped her bag and went to the restroom.
As soon as Yin Guo left, Wu Wei lowered his voice, “You’re too nice. I took off my clothes, lathered my hair with foam, and you pulled me out just to grab a seat? All for a bowl of ramen?”
“Stop talking and just come.”
Lin Yiyang took off his coat, draped it over the chair, and waved at the owner. After a brief chat in Japanese, he ordered some sake. The owner asked if they were ready to order, but Lin Yiyang said they’d wait for Yin Guo.
Wu Wei, clearly confused, asked, “Didn’t you go to Flushing to gamble? How come you’re with this little beauty?”
“We met at the billiard hall,” Lin Yiyang explained.
They chatted for a moment and clarified the situation. Yin Guo came back just in time.
Wu Wei immediately dropped the teasing tone and cheerfully asked, “I heard you’re also signing up for the open tournament?”
“Yes, in the women’s division.” Yin Guo smiled, sitting across from the two men.
“I’m also on the list,” Wu Wei extended his right hand. “How about a handshake, such a coincidence.”
“Such a coincidence.” Yin Guo shook his hand.
“When I came in the other day, your cousin started talking to me, and I thought he was a scammer. But when I saw the cue stick on the suitcase, I relaxed,” Wu Wei smiled, recalling the night of the snowstorm, “At first, I thought the cue stick was your cousin’s, didn’t expect it was yours.”
No wonder it was so easy to become friends and even invite her for a drink.
She finally understood.
They talked for a while. Yin Guo got a lot more information about Lin Yiyang from Wu Wei.
Wu Wei was studying at New York University, and it was Lin Yiyang who helped him prepare the materials for his master’s program. They had different majors, and while Lin Yiyang had been here for a year longer, Wu Wei only needed one year. He didn’t leave after graduation because he wanted to wait for Lin Yiyang to finish his studies and return home together.
“Actually, I’m pretty average at 9-ball. I played when I was younger. But since 9-ball is popular in the U.S., I just went along with it,” Wu Wei laughed.
He wasn’t wrong.
In the U.S., many people treat 9-ball as a family activity, but snooker is less common. In the billiard hall where she met Lin Yiyang, there was only one snooker table, and no one played it.
At professional competitions, people here didn’t seem keen on snooker either.
For Yin Guo, she played American billiards, and the U.S. 9-ball open was crucial.
But from Wu Wei’s words, she could tell he was more into English billiards and snooker.
It was the same as her cousin.
His friends were all professionals, so why wasn’t he one?
Yin Guo looked at him.
Lin Yiyang had been sitting there, sipping the sake that had been brought to him. The small blue translucent bottle was cupped in his hand, and after taking a few sips, he had finished most of it.
He seemed not to be listening to their conversation. When Yin Guo looked at him, he casually slid the menu over to her. “Order first, we’ll talk later.”
“Yes, order first,” Wu Wei agreed.
The menu was filled with pictures.
Ramen shops around the world use a similar approach—just pick the noodles and add-ons by looking at the pictures. Yin Guo quickly decided on her order and handed the menu back to Lin Yiyang. He waved at the server, and since he was so familiar with the place, he didn’t even need to look at the menu himself.
Wu Wei then shifted the conversation to everyday life in New York, asking Yin Guo about her upcoming accommodation plans.
“Probably still at the hotel,” Yin Guo said, “For now, that’s the plan.”
“Have you thought about renting a place? Short-term rental?”
“I did consider it, but three months isn’t long or short, and I was worried it’d be a hassle. Plus, I’m not sure I can find something good.”
Wu Wei immediately offered an enthusiastic invitation, saying the apartment he rented was a three-bedroom place, and two of the rooms were empty as the sisters living there were moving out this month. He could ask the landlord if Yin Guo could rent it short-term. There were two advantages to this: first, it would save money, and second, if her cousin got into New York University, she could take the place permanently.
It was in a great location, with easy access to transportation, and the house was ready.
Wu Wei’s offer was very tempting.
When Yin Guo arrived, her friend had suggested a short-term rental, but because her friend was in China and couldn’t help her find a place, she had given up on the idea. Now, with a reliable source, renting a place was indeed a good deal.
Yin Guo thanked him happily and added Wu Wei on WeChat.
“Let me check with the landlord first, and I’ll give you a definite answer tomorrow,” Wu Wei said.
They didn’t talk much more as they had to get going, and they quickly finished their meal.
After dinner, Lin Yiyang and Yin Guo got back on the subway. By the time they reached Yin Guo’s hotel, it was already 11 p.m.
Her hotel was in a more secluded area, surrounded by repair shops, and the only lively place was a small gas station. To get to the hotel from the subway, they had to walk down a dark street. Besides the light from the gas station, there were no other lights, just a three-to-five-minute walk.
As the wind picked up, it sent a chill down her spine.
He walked her to the hotel door, where two barmaids were smoking. As they approached, the women extinguished their cigarettes and helped open the heavy black iron door to the hotel.
Yin Guo stopped on the steps. “Do you still have the subway to take back?”
“The subway runs 24 hours,” Lin Yiyang took the cue case off his shoulder and held onto the strap as if waiting for something.
His hand holding the strap reminded Yin Guo of the way he held his cue stick.
Billiards required long, uninterrupted practice, just like any other sport. Outsiders wouldn’t notice, but insiders couldn’t miss it. His level was honed from years of practice, which didn’t seem like the skill of an amateur.
The glass door behind her was knocked on, interrupting her thoughts.
She turned around to see her cousin waving from behind the frosted glass.
Lin Yiyang’s arm reached over her shoulder to open the iron door, pushing her inside. He handed the cue case to Meng Xiaotian.
“Thanks, Yiyang, for sending my sister back,” her cousin smiled and thanked him.
Lin Yiyang nodded, signaling the farewell.
With his hands in his pockets, he turned around and walked back along the dimly lit path by the gas station.
Yin Guo touched her ear, remembering how Lin Yiyang’s sleeve zipper had brushed her ear when he opened the door. “You came down so coincidentally?”
“Yiyang gave me his WeChat, said you’d be arriving and asked me to pick you up,” her cousin replied. “I probably mentioned the bar below our hotel, and he didn’t want you running into any drunk people.”
An unexpected answer.
Yin Guo turned back to look outside.
Lin Yiyang was adjusting his hat to block the cold wind. In the distance, the gas station’s light and the wall on the left slowly faded into the snowstorm, and he probably headed to the subway.
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