Chapter 66 Lu Guifan’s Billiards (Stick Stick) Tutorial

Chapter 66: Lu Guifan’s Billiards (Hands-on) Tutorial

Qi Yanfeng was in the middle of discussing work with his secretary when he saw his younger brother walk in. He gave the secretary a look, and the latter promptly set down the documents and left, closing the door behind him.

Qi Yanze slumped into the chair opposite him, his face like he’d bitten into a lemon.

Qi Yanfeng chuckled. “Oh? Who dared offend the Qi family’s young master?”

In the past, Qi Yanze had taken the term “young master” as a compliment. But today, after being mockingly called “young Mr. Qi” and told to “go ask your big brother,” his expression darkened further.

“Brother, tell me—if I use the money Mom and Dad gave me to buy Xiaotian Guo, and later need financing, would you help me introduce me to investors?”

Qi Yanze stared straight at his older brother.

Qi Yanfeng was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected his younger brother to think as far ahead as “financing.”

The sum of over twenty million was given to Qi Yanze by their parents as seed money. He’d assumed his brother would use it to open some high-end bar or club—after all, the kid lived for luxury. Who’d have thought he’d sink it into buying a video platform?

With the two major video platforms dominating the market, how long could Xiaotian Guo even survive?

Changing users’ pirating habits wasn’t something that could be done overnight.

How much would it cost to license content properly?

Most likely, Xiaotian Guo would fold before users even developed legal viewing habits.

So, no, Qi Yanfeng wasn’t about to leverage his network filling this bottomless pit for his brother.

Maybe the young master of the Qi family really did need to fail at something—to learn that just because he liked something, threw money at it, and bought it, didn’t mean it would thrive.

“Xiao Ze, I don’t mind you using Xiaotian Guo to learn about running a video site. But this is a new entertainment model—whether netizens are willing to pay for it remains to be seen. Twenty million is already the upper limit for buying experience.”

Qi Yanze’s mind reeled. His brother’s stance was exactly what that guy on the phone had predicted.

Deep down, he had a feeling this was the future of entertainment—unlike traditional TV, video platforms offered users more choice and flexibility.

Qi Yanze stood his ground. “Brother, in the future, traditional TV might lose its appeal entirely. The main platform for dramas will shift to video sites. Just like how young people now prefer downloading shows to watching them on TV.”

Though Qi Yanfeng agreed with his brother’s vision, the investment’s returns were too uncertain. If it failed completely, he’d lose standing in their circles.

Better to invest in films or dramas—at least the profits were more controllable.

In the end, Qi Yanze left his brother’s office like a scolded puppy, head hanging low.

“What, mad? Since you’re here, why not grab a meal with your big brother?”

“No, I’m too upset to eat.”

Qi Yanfeng sighed as he watched his brother leave. Even in his twenties, he still wore his heart on his sleeve—such a child.

Qi Yanze drove away from Hongtian Borui’s building, racing down the highway to blow off steam.

By the time night fell, he finally remembered that phone call.

That guy had been infuriating—uncannily accurate about his so-called friends and his brother’s reaction.

Did that mean the caller knew him?

Qi Yanze scrambled his memory but couldn’t place the unfamiliar voice.

Now, curiosity burned in him. Maybe after his brother’s discouragement, he was getting cold feet about Xiaotian Guo—but he wanted to know the other party’s identity even more.

Taking a deep breath, he drove back into the city and texted the unknown number: [Talk?]

Mr. Zheng was busy feeding his bird, more meticulously than he’d ever fed his own son. By the time he saw the message, half an hour had passed.

In that time, Qi Yanze checked his phone a hundred times—chin propped on his hand, leg jiggling, grabbing beer from the fridge—he couldn't sit still.

His mind raced: Had the other guy given up on Xiaotian Guo too?

How cruel would that be? Stringing him along as the investor, leaving him in a dilemma, then just bailing.

Wasn’t that just… all talk no action!

Ugh, yeah right!

When Mr. Zheng finally saw the message, he smirked. Qi Yanze’s reaction was exactly as Jiang Ruotang had predicted.

He leisurely replied: [Sure, let’s talk.]

What Zheng Huasheng didn’t expect was that Qi Yanze wanted to meet at a billiards parlor.

Rubbing his temples, Zheng exhaled and said to Jiang Ruotang, “My dear, this ‘pool-table negotiations’ is beyond me.”

Jiang Ruotang covered his face in dismay. Normally, business talks happened in quiet, classy places like lounges or cafés, right?

This Qi Yanze… did they have to outplay him at billiards before he’d negotiate?

“What if… we post a part-time ad for a billiards pro to accompany us?” Jiang Ruotang suggested.

Zheng Huasheng: “…”

His silence told Jiang Ruotang just how bad that idea was.

Who knew if the “billiards pro” would leak their conversation? The consequences could snowball.

Then Zheng suddenly said, “What if I have Lu Ping practice?”

Lu Ping was Lu Guifan’s father, now one of Zheng’s trusted associates.

“Even with private lessons, there’s no time. Maybe I should just go talk to Qi Yanze myself. I know a little about pool.”

Though it’d been years—he was all show, no skill. Jiang Ruotang lacked confidence.

Zheng said, “If you’re considering partnering with Qi Yanze, it’s better to be transparent about your identity. If he finds out later and feels deceived, it’ll create tension. You should go.”

“Yeah.”

After hanging up, Jiang Ruotang sighed and leaned heavily on the railing, staring into space. Now he was the one who needed a coach.

Just then, Lu Guifan walked by carrying a stack of papers from the teachers' office. Given his height, he easily spotted Jiang Ruotang’s phone screen: “pool coach.”

“Since when do you play pool?” Lu Guifan asked.

Jiang Ruotang turned, looked up at him, and suddenly wanted comfort.

“An elder needs to negotiate a deal with some young master, but the guy chose a pool hall… The elder doesn’t play, so they might send me instead. But… my skills are only good for getting crushed.” He leaned his head back, looking pitiful.

He didn’t expect Lu Guifan to fix his problem—he just wanted to bury his head in the other’s chest and get some comfort.

Unfortunately, his wish was dashed. Lu Guifan didn't approach from behind but came to his side instead. "I can play. Do you want me to practice with you?"

Jiang Ruotang went rigid, his eyes widening as wide as saucers.

"You... know how to play pool? How is that possible?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Lu Guifan countered.

"Unbelievable! Isn't pool just synonymous with slacking off? A good student like you..."

As Jiang Ruotang was speaking, Lu Guifan reached out and pressed lightly against his cheek. Through the gaps between his fingers, Jiang Ruotang caught a glimpse of Lu Guifan's faint smirk.

So handsome.

"Good students can play pool too."

"Alright, alright. Then tonight... after night study, let's go to the pool hall for some practice? I just looked it up—there's a decent one pretty close to campus. We can rent a table and take our time."

"Taking our time might not work. We have to be back by eleven-thirty, or you'll be nodding off in class again tomorrow." Lu Guifan withdrew his hand and lightly tapped Jiang Ruotang's forehead instead. "You need to learn seriously."

With that, he carried the stack of test papers into the classroom.

Jiang Ruotang watched his retreating figure, his heart swelled with anticipation.

Lu Guifan wasn’t the type to casually claim he could do something. If he said he could—and even offered to teach Jiang Ruotang—it meant he was genuinely skilled.

Sitting back down, Jiang Ruotang couldn’t resist sending Lu Guifan a message: [When did you learn pool? Who taught you? Where did you learn?]

[When I first moved from Chengtan to the city for school, my parents often worked overtime, so I’d eat at their friend’s place. That friend co-owned a pool hall.]

Jiang Ruotang immediately pictured a twelve- or thirteen-year-old Lu Guifan walking into the pool hall after school, backpack slung over his shoulder, eating and doing homework there while the adults taught this straight-laced boy how to play pool in their spare time.

[Where’s that pool hall now?]

[Closed. Later, the man opened a small supermarket instead.]

Jiang Ruotang smiled, his excitement grew.

After the evening art class just finished, Jiang Ruotang didn’t ask Xiao Gao to pick him up. Instead, he had Xiao Gao fetch Lu Guifan while he hailed a cab to the agreed-upon pool hall.

By the time he arrived, it was already past 9:50. For many non-students, nightlife was just kicking off.

Lu Guifan had already booked a table inside and sent Jiang Ruotang the number.

This pool hall was quite upscale, with great service and ambiance. It was brightly lit, uniformed attendants stood by each table, and there was a buffet area with snacks, fruit, and drinks. Smoking wasn’t allowed here.

The hall occupied three floors. The one they were on was the most expensive and highest-quality, with only six tables. Lu Guifan had chosen the one closest to the corner.

Jiang Ruotang hadn’t expected Lu Guifan to pick the priciest floor, but thankfully, Lu Guifan had recently received settlement money for a rights infringement case, so he had some extra cash to spare. Otherwise, Jiang Ruotang would’ve felt guilty.

As he drew closer, Lu Guifan’s figure became clearer.

He had already taken off his wool coat and school jacket, hanging them on a nearby rack. Now, he wore a fluffy cashmere pullover with the sleeves of both the sweater and his inner shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing the well-defined forearms.

Perhaps bored from waiting or just getting a feel for the game, he had already broken.

The bright overhead lights caught on Lu Guifan’s hair and the bridge of his nose. His amber eyes showed no flicker of emotion, as if he were running precise calculations in his mind—completely at odds with the rowdy atmosphere around them.

Lu Guifan bent forward, the cue in his hand extending into a picture-perfect form. His school trousers hugged his straight, long right leg, planted firmly like a tree, while his slightly bent left knee lent a relaxed ease to his stance. With a sudden burst of force, the moment the cue struck the ball, Jiang Ruotang felt his heart skipped a beat.

One shot, smooth as silk into the pocket—no hesitation, just pure precision so crisp it made his pulse race.

Then Lu Guifan straightened, pulling the cue back.

Only then did Jiang Ruotang step forward, braced against the table’s edge to look at him. "Wow, I believe you now. Teach me, quick!"

Lu Guifan glanced over. The hand that had steadied the cue reached out, his fingers suddenly hooked onto a button of Jiang Ruotang’s coat and tugging.

Jiang Ruotang lurched forward, thought he'd faceplant into Lu Guifan's chest.

But Lu Guifan had already loosened his grip, deftly undoing the button with one hand. "You’re bundled up like a teddy bear. Can you even move in that?"

"Oh..."

Jiang Ruotang looked down at himself—scarf, gloves, wool coat, wrapped up tight. The pool hall was already heated; he didn’t need this many layers.

He began unwinding his scarf loop by loop, while Lu Guifan set the cue aside and stepped closer, at a leisurely pace undoing the buttons of his coat.

Each button slipping free made Jiang Ruotang inexplicably nervous, as if something was slipping out of his control—or as if the emotions he’d buried were welling up with every undone button, threatening to spill over.

Every sensation seemed tethered to Lu Guifan’s fingers until the coat was fully off. As his arms slid free from the sleeves, Jiang Ruotang felt almost cradled in Lu Guifan’s embrace.

His heart hammered. You don’t have to be this considerate, he thought. You're making me overthink things!

But even as his mind wandered, his happiness skyrocketed!

Lu Guifan, however, turned away without a second thought, hanging Jiang Ruotang’s coat and scarf next to his own jacket.

"Try a few shots. Let me see your stance."

"Okay." Jiang Ruotang nodded. Focus on the task at hand.

He thought his posture was fine, but his first shot missed entirely.

Lu Guifan stayed silent, so Jiang Ruotang took a deep breath, rolled his wrist, and tried again—this time successfully sinking a ball.

He looked to Lu Guifan for feedback.

Lu Guifan stepped beside him. "Your stance isn’t the issue. Seems you’ve played before. But power and angle matter more. That’s where the skill lies."

"Mm." Jiang Ruotang nodded.

Lu Guifan pointed to a ball near the table’s edge. "Try hitting that one?"

Jiang Ruotang knew his limits. This shot was beyond him—the yellow ball bounced off, and he shot a helpless look at Lu Guifan.

Lu Guifan reset the yellow ball. "When the ball’s close to the cushion, a medium stroke with light force is enough. But here, the cue ball’s too far out, so the yellow’s likely to bounce. So... you need to apply some English."

Jiang Ruotang nodded. He knew about English in theory, but execution was easier said than done.

"Here, I’ll help with this one."

With that, Lu Guifan bent beside him, his left hand guiding Jiang Ruotang’s bridge to the right distance, his right hand covering Jiang Ruotang’s grip on the cue.

Half-sprawled across the table, Jiang Ruotang stiffened, barely daring to move.

He felt utterly enveloped in Lu Guifan's cocoon—their faces nearly touching, Jiang Ruotang didn't dare breathe. This might’ve been the first time since coming back that they’d been this close. Sleeping side by side didn’t count since he couldn’t remember how that felt.

The moment Lu Guifan applied force, Jiang Ruotang’s entire body trembled from chest to bone, like a gunshot. The cue struck slightly off-center, imparting a sharp, calculated force that sent the white ball gliding into the yellow, guiding it flawlessly along the rail and into the pocket.

It wasn't exactly pro-level technique, but the rush Jiang Ruotang got at the moment of striking was something he'd never experienced before.

"Wow, that's amazing," Jiang Ruotang murmured.

"Basic technique—what's so amazing about it?"

"It's amazing that you guided me to sink the ball, making me feel like I could do anything."

"Hmph, then proceed to suck at everything."

Lu Guifan's remark made Jiang Ruotang laugh. Even though the ball had already gone in, Lu Guifan still kept his arms around him—especially when he laughed, making his own heartbeat sync with Jiang Ruotang's.

Jiang Ruotang, guileless and nestled in his arms, was heart-meltingly cute, stirring an inexplicable urge in Lu Guifan to pull him tight.

And the corner of his lips was too close. Lu Guifan’s gaze was drawn to it like an anchor plunging into the deep sea, sinking into the curve of Jiang Ruotang's lips.

Until Jiang Ruotang shifted and slipped out of Lu Guifan’s embrace, placing the white and yellow balls back in their original positions, working through the shots himself.

Though Lu Guifan felt a twinge of disappointment, he stood by patiently, retrieving balls from the pockets and setting up various positions along the cushion at different distances. Jiang Ruotang grew more and more comfortable with each attempt.

By the time he had gotten the hang of English, Jiang Ruotang had a sudden thought—he should’ve pretended not to get it, so Lu Guifan would keep teaching him hand in hand, letting him linger in those embraces a little longer!

Next, Lu Guifan taught him how to handle thin cuts along the rail. "Aim one ball-width away from the target, and apply spin toward the pocket’s direction."

After demonstrating several precise, perfectly angled shots, Jiang Ruotang couldn’t help but wonder—was Lu Guifan skipping class to shoot pool even during senior year? How else was he so effortlessly skilled?

Jiang Ruotang waited a dozen seconds, hoping for another hands-on lesson, but instead, the other merely adjusted his elbow and stepped aside.

Seriously? That's it? Just one measly demonstration?

I may not have paid tuition, but I'd one-star you right now!

With Lu Guifan by his side, Jiang Ruotang practiced various spins, getting totally hooked.

At the neighboring table, a few girls had noticed Lu Guifan early on. Though his black-framed glasses obscured his eyes, his quiet, commanding vibe was hard to miss.

And upon closer observation, it became clear—he was undeniably handsome, his playing style all business with perfect form. Especially with Jiang Ruotang joining him, the sight of two good-looking guys playing together was truly easy on the eyes.

One bold, curly-haired girl approached Lu Guifan and asked straightforwardly, "Excuse me, hotshot, you teach really well. Mind giving us a lesson?"

Jiang Ruotang tilted his head, watching Lu Guifan—would he agree?

"Sorry, this rookie here's maxed out my teaching capacity. We’re short on time—still need to practice massé shots."

Though Lu Guifan wasn’t smiling, his tone was gentle, and the girl could tell he meant it. She nodded and returned to her table, murmuring with her friends—less disappointed, more curious about what he’d teach Jiang Ruotang next.

But the words "this one apprentice" had Jiang Ruotang’s smile reaching his eyes, his delight impossible to hide.

Lu Guifan bopped him on the forehead. "Still distracted? We’ll have to head home soon."

"Alright, let’s go."

"For a massé shot, aim for the spot where the curve should peak, raise the back of the cue—like this."

Lu Guifan demonstrated, smooth as always.

Jiang Ruotang knew he never showed off—it was just his natural grace in everything.

Adjusting his stance and angle, Jiang Ruang took aim. After several misses, Lu Guifan observed, fine-tuned his line of sight, pressed down on his front shoulder, and wrapped an arm around his waist to adjust his cue angle.

Jiang Ruotang had hoped Lu Guifan’s chest might brush against him, but the other’s abs were too damn strong—he hovered without touching. A shame.

"Focus. If you can master massé shots, you’ll be more than fine playing with friends." Lu Guifan’s palm rested lightly on Jiang Ruotang’s head, the warmth seeping in, helping him focus.

Eyes locked on the table, Jiang Ruotang mapped the curve in his mind, found the center, and struck. The white ball curved around the obstacle, hitting the red—but just kissed the edge of the pocket.

"No worries, take your time. Put more hook on it next time," Lu Guifan said.

"Got it," Jiang Ruotang nodded earnestly.

Little did he know, half an hour earlier, Qi Yanze and his friends had taken a table nearby, separated only by the girls’ game.

And when Jiang Ruotang was practicing spins, Qi Yanze had been watching him.