Chapter 8

Chi Ning had bought it, probably worried that standing too long would be bad for his injury, so he had bought them all in one go.

But Qin Heng knew Chi Ning was a bit of a clean freak. He would never drink from bottles that had been recycled after someone else used them. So where had the bayberry juice gone after Chi Ning bought it?

At that thought, Qin Heng's mind suddenly stalled.

Why did he know something so private?

It was as though it had been etched into his soul from birth.

Forget it. It did not matter. A young master like Chi Ning had probably only acted out of passing curiosity and kindness. It would fade soon enough.

It would be better if it faded.

Qin Heng looked at Chi Ning and found his gaze fixed intently on Zhang Qiuwen's side. Before his mind could catch up, his tongue had already said, "Want someone to play with you?"

Chi Ning snorted inwardly without hesitation.

Little liar. He cheated me, and now he wants to cheat another ten yuan out of me?

No way!

"No." Chi Ning urged Zhang Qiuwen, "Hurry up and open it."

"Right, right." Zhang Qiuwen answered while secretly glancing at the rejected Qin Heng.

Qin Heng let out a breath, and the muscles he had unconsciously tensed finally relaxed.

He had spoken without thinking. The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Fortunately, Chi Ning had refused.

A minute later.

Zhang Qiuwen somewhat clumsily finished the table-opening procedure, handed the receipt and membership card back to Chi Ning, and pointed at the snooker table closest to the entrance. "This one."

Xu Jiahao smacked Zhang Qiuwen's pointing hand away and quietly rebuked him, "Where are your manners? What are you pointing for? When directing a guest, open your palm upward, then lead them over!"

Zhang Qiuwen rubbed the back of his hand and did not even dare hiss in pain. He bent at the waist, just about to raise his hand, when Xu Jiahao slapped him again. "Straighten your back. Even if you're faking it, fake it properly."

"I'll do it." Qin Heng stepped in front of Zhang Qiuwen and spread a hand toward Chi Ning. "This way, please."

They had only just learned the etiquette, and their politeness was an act too, but Qin Heng's performance was far more natural than Zhang Qiuwen's. He looked entirely convincing.

Chi Ning closed his eyes. Thinking of the expensive laboratory equipment he was about to acquire—a centrifuge, chromatograph, blower, extractor, and more—he immediately felt calm, all his lingering anger vanishing. It was as if he could attain enlightenment on the spot just by pressing his palms together.

He followed Qin Heng to the table.

Snooker originated in Britain. It had been invented by a colonel stationed in India in 1875 and had once been a hugely popular pastime among British troops.

The brochure devoted the most space to British snooker, but the most conspicuous phrases were still "difficult for beginners" and "not suitable for novice players."

Following the tutorial included at the back of the brochure, Chi Ning set up the balls and tested the cue provided beside the table. It was indeed somewhat more difficult than the American pool he had played in Gangnan.

Snooker balls were smaller than American pool balls, making the contact point harder to find, and its rules were more complicated.

American pool only required accuracy and speed, but snooker also required score calculations, making it much more mentally demanding.

When Chi Ning took his first shot, he did not even have enough strength to break apart the red balls arranged in a triangle.

Boss Xu's place had a great atmosphere, without someone like Jiang Shijie ruining the mood.

As he played, Chi Ning let his mind wander. Before he knew it, he had steadily cleared more than half the red balls, scarcely missing a shot. Every time, a ball dropped into a pocket.

Under snooker rules, potting a red ball earned one point, and scoring allowed a player one chance to pot a colored ball. The six differently colored balls were worth different scores.

Players alternated between potting red balls and colored balls until all the reds had left the table, then cleared the colored balls in ascending order of value.[1]

The tables at Boss Xu's place were equipped with electronic sensors. The electronic scoreboard beside Chi Ning's table kept jumping upward, so rapidly that anyone not looking closely might have thought it was malfunctioning.

The teenager's stance was standard, and he was playing alone. Many guests in the lounge area noticed him.

At that moment, a guest sitting nearby gestured toward Chi Ning with his chin and leaned close to his companion. "That kid's pretty good."

The man in gold-rimmed glasses responded, "Not bad. They're all basic shots, and he doesn't have much strength. Judging by his style, he clearly doesn't understand the essence of snooker at all, though his calculation skills are pretty good..."

"You're just being stubborn. You've looked over there several times already."

The guest laughed. "He seems to be staring at the black ball in the middle of the table. His arms are probably too short to reach it. Has nobody taught him how to use a rest or an extension? We're free anyway. Why don't you go teach him?"

The billiards hall was quiet, and the deliberately lowered voices carried clearly to Chi Ning's ears. Offended, he glanced over and met a pair of calm eyes.

The man wore a suit shirt, with a leather armband around his upper arm. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing firm, muscular forearms. His temperament was extremely similar to Qin Heng after he became an adult in Chi Ning's previous life.

Chi Ning had PTSD toward refined scum who looked like they were good at deceiving people. He quickly withdrew his gaze.

Before he could decide how to handle the awkwardly positioned black ball, he heard the refined scum say, "Do you think just anyone can become my student?"

Chi Ning: ...

He had never suffered this kind of disdain in either lifetime.

With a solemn expression, Chi Ning picked up his cue and measured the distance between the black ball and the middle pocket, then used his arm as a ruler to calculate the angle and force.

He could not reach it while leaning down, but if he held the butt end of the cue and struck straight, he could still hit it.

He flipped the cue around and swept it horizontally with the thick end at the bottom. The black ball flew out and dropped into the pocket with a thud, like a firecracker.

It was accurate, but it had nothing to do with the elegance and gentlemanly refinement snooker was known for.

"Pfft." The guest who had spoken first laughed. "He's angry. He's kind of cute. If you don't want him, I do. I don't have a student yet."

Chi Ning rolled his eyes inwardly.

Still being picky?

Is this a vegetable market or something?

He bent down, picked all the balls out from beneath the table, and placed them back on the felt. Using the triangle rack, he enclosed the round, strawberry-red balls.

Just as he leaned over to push the fifteen red balls into position, the refined scum walked up beside him, pulled out a business card from his suit jacket, and said, "My surname is Mo."

One did not slap a smiling face.

Chi Ning accepted the card and glanced down at it. "Hello, Mr. Mo. My name is Chi Ning."

"How long have you been playing?" the man asked, leaning against the table.

"Twice." Chi Ning was carefully examining the business card.

Black lettering on a white background displayed the name—Mo Yuanzhou.

Mo Yuanzhou's glasses slid down his nose, and his tone rose slightly. "How many times?"

"Twice." Chi Ning repeated absentmindedly. He held the card closer and carefully examined the crowded titles printed on it.

—World Grand Prix Champion, Hua Nation Open Champion, World Championship Champion, Masters Runner-Up, and so on.

The tiny gilded letters were densely packed, impossible to finish reading. Just looking at them made his head spin.

Chi Ning suddenly reflected that perhaps he had made that shot a little too loudly. It was understandable for a world champion to have a bad attitude. Back when he had been in the lab in his previous life, he had been much fiercer than this man.

Just as he was reflecting, Mo Yuanzhou's voice sounded beside him. "Sorry, we shouldn't have discussed you in private. If you weren't lying, being this good after playing only twice is already impressive."

He used his hand to block the light reflecting off the business card's tiny lettering, which glittered like golden ants. A hint of shyness entered his voice. "Careful of your eyes."

Chi Ning: ...

His teeth ached.

Mo Yuanzhou was too much like Qin Heng from his previous life. It made his psychological trauma surge up again.

"What can I do for you?" He tilted his head, his tone carrying just the right amount of sarcasm. "Was my playing too noisy for you?"

Mo Yuanzhou smiled. His future student was rather grudging, and quite cute too. "I came to ask whether you'd like to become my student."

His tone was calm and his attitude open, as if he had not been the one disparaging him earlier.

Chi Ning remembered very clearly and tactfully declined. "I probably won't pursue a professional career in the future. I'm just playing for fun right now."

Mo Yuanzhou sighed in relief. "That's good. Snooker players generally do not earn much prize money, and most people can hardly support themselves by playing alone."

He turned over the business card in Chi Ning's hand. On the back were the words—VERGINE Design Director. "This is actually my main profession."

Chi Ning's scalp tingled. He felt as though he had encountered an overachiever.

He no longer cared that Mo Yuanzhou was a world champion. Afraid of being overworked to death by comparison, he sincerely and practically refused, "Mr. Mo, I'm not motivated in my studies, I don't work hard at school, I just like fooling around, and I'm a very laid-back person. I'm not suited to being trained as a champion's successor. Please find someone else."

Qin Heng, who had been watching from the side, could not hold back a laugh. He had thought Chi Ning was defenseless around everyone, but it seemed he had learned to be clever.

In that case, no proper teacher would want him anymore.

Yet Mo Yuanzhou nodded. "Not bad. I only want to teach for fun too. If you wanted to win championships right away and played too utilitarianly, I wouldn't want you instead."

Chi Ning warily took a step back. "You don't have any requirements at all. Are you planning to charge a lot of money? How much are your lesson fees? I'm very poor."

Zhang Qiuwen, Xu Jiahao, and Qin Heng all wore extremely colorful expressions.

According to the rumors, the Chi family's stock price was somewhat unstable, but that did not change the fact that they were Yangcheng's richest family. As long as the Chi family did not change hands and there were no major shifts in share ownership, they would remain wealthy.

But what was Chi Ning saying now?

Poor?

"It's fine. I have plenty of money. I don't need your few hundred yuan." Mo Yuanzhou folded his arms and looked at Chi Ning leisurely. It was as if he had not been the one picking people apart earlier, giving his offer away with remarkable generosity.

"No." Having been fooled too many times, Chi Ning was not taken in at all. "The free ones are always the most expensive."

The guest who had encouraged Mo Yuanzhou to take on a student laughed with great schadenfreude. "So you have your day too?"

Designers were naturally drawn to good-looking people.

The boy in front of him seemed to have suffered some harsh lessons from society and was extremely wary of strangers. If there were no conditions at all, it would only make him more suspicious rather than let down his guard.