Dimensional Storekeeper - Chapter 229: Billiard Finals Boutta Go Crazy!
Chapter 229: Billiard Finals Boutta Go Crazy!
Well, it wasn’t exactly up to Hao whether another tournament would be hosted in the near future.
That part belonged to the system.
If it issued another task – great. Easy justification.
If not, he’d probably have to send in a request to open up the possibility himself. Maybe wrap it under “customer loyalty maintenance” or something clever-sounding.
But that would be a problem for another day.
Because right now…
The finals were about to begin!
The short break had passed in a blur of sips, slurps, and enthusiastic chomps. Customers had returned to their spots inside the billiard room, excitement humming in the air like a low current.
Some had even moved a little closer this time, sitting on different seats, or standing near the walls, eager to catch every angle.
Hao stepped up to the side of the table with a casual smile, clapping his hands twice to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, alright – before anything else, can we get one more round of applause for all the participants today?”
A round of claps and light cheers erupted from the room.
Hao nodded with satisfaction. “Really. You all made this event something worth remembering.”
He raised his hand slightly.
“But now, we give a special round of applause for the two finalists who made it all the way here.”
He extended his arm to the side. “First – Bai Chen!”
Ji Yunzhi stepped forward with a calm nod, cue in hand.
Then Hao gestured to the other side. “And of course, Elder Bai Qingshui!”
There was a moment of respectful quiet, then another round of applause broke out – some louder, some even whistling.
“Wooo!”
“Let’s go!”
Hao let it run for a beat, then raised his hand.
The room quieted again, as if someone pressed mute on the world.
“As stated on the poster.” Hao said. “The final match will be played as a best of three.”
He swept his gaze across the room. “Which means the first player to win two games will be crowned our tournament champion.”
He smiled, stepping back. “No pressure.”
A few scattered laughs echoed.
The finals were on.
Hao stepped back toward the table and spun the coin between his fingers with a practiced flick.
He smiled at both players.
“Alright. Finals match. Best of three. As usual – call it, heads or tails?”
Ji Yunzhi opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Elder Bai Qingshui raised a hand gently and said, “I’ll let the young man choose.”
His voice was calm, steady. Not mocking in tone. Just… polite.
But Ji Yunzhi’s brows twitched almost imperceptibly.
He wasn’t someone easily ruffled, but something about that phrasing rubbed him the wrong way.
Let the young man choose?
It was a classic senior move. A soft gesture, wrapped in good manners. The kind that, on the surface, looked generous… but to a prideful mind, could feel dismissive.
As if Elder Bai thought he didn’t need the advantage.
As if he was saying, “Choose whichever side you want. I’ll win either way.”
It wasn’t arrogance. But it was still a flex.
And Ji Yunzhi had lived long enough in the world of cultivation to know exactly how those subtleties worked. He wasn’t some hotheaded teen either. But the sting still lingered.
It was the same feeling as when you poured your all into a spar, only for the opponent to beat you one-handed and smile kindly after.
No mockery. Just dismissal by skill.
That was worse.
Ji Yunzhi wasn’t angry.
He knew Elder Bai Qingshui wasn’t mocking him. The old man had that calm, thoughtful presence. No sharpness, no arrogance. If anything, it was pure courtesy.
A gesture made out of habit or seniority, not condescension.
But still…
It scratched at something inside.
A voice. Quiet, but persistent.
Are you not being taken seriously? Are you being humored?
He knew it was silly. Pride always whispered things it shouldn’t.
He respected Elder Bai. Admired his strength, even.
But being offered the choice felt like standing on one of two roads – one where he accepted the gesture and risked looking small in his own eyes, and one where he stood his ground and risked looking petty.
He hated that it was even a decision.
He wasn’t a child anymore. He wasn’t a hotblooded disciple trying to prove something to his elders. But he was still someone who fought tooth and nail to stand beside the strongest without any cheat, background, or heaven-defying fate.
So in the end, Ji Yunzhi drew in a breath and gave a light bow.
“It’s either way, Senior Bai. I appreciate the gesture… but I’m fine not taking it.”
He wasn’t rejecting the man.
He was affirming himself.
Even if most people watching didn’t notice the nuance, a few did. Some nodded. Some smiled slightly.
Because whether in cultivation, games, or life – there were always moments like this. When someone else offered the kind road.
And you chose to stand on your own instead.
There it was.
Hao exhaled quietly through his nose, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
That pride again.
He wasn’t surprised. Not even a little. Ji Yunzhi was like one of those rare cats that wandered in, acted like it owned the place, but still somehow earned your respect just by refusing to bend.
He had that fire in him – the kind that refused to accept charity, even when the world wasn’t offering pity but respect.
Sometimes, that kind of pride could be inspiring.
Other times, it was just exhausting.
Still, Hao didn’t fault him for it. Ji Yunzhi’s pride was the kind that had been forged through constant proving. He had no ancient bloodline backing him, no divine treasure choosing him, no hidden realm unlocking just for his path.
What he had was skill, talent, stubbornness, and that sharp edge that kept him moving forward.
Was it a flaw?
Maybe.
But it was also the reason he stood in the finals.
Some people could only grow when they believed they were standing alone.
Others thrived when they accepted a hand and stood taller because of it.
Ji Yunzhi wasn’t the latter.
At least, not yet.
Hao had read it in web novels before – young cultivators walking a thin line between ambition and isolation.
Sometimes they soared. Sometimes they stumbled. And sometimes, they realized too late that all the walls they built for protection had turned into a cage.
But Ji Yunzhi wasn’t caged yet. He still had that light behind his eyes. That hunger to be better, even if it meant being a little too proud, a little too rigid.
’Let him walk that road a little longer.’ Hao thought.
Elder Bai Qingshui let out a quiet laugh.
It was barely audible, but everyone in the room heard it – if not with their ears, then with their senses.
His gaze stayed steady on Ji Yunzhi.
“So that’s your decision, young man?”
Elder Bai Qingshui turned to Hao next, not even waiting for further ceremony.
“Well then. I’ll be shameless.” he said, with a small tilt of his head, the closest he ever came to being playful.
“Tails, Senior.”
Hao raised his brows slightly, then gave the coin a flick.
It twirled, glittering for a breath, then landed in his palm.
“Tails.”
Gasps followed.
Silence was broken instantly.
“…Elder Bai’s breaking again?”
“Oh no.”
“There’s no way, right? There’s no way the old man does it twice in a row.”
“He needs to win two matches. Two. But who’s to say he can’t just… do it again?”
“I mean… if anyone could, it’s Elder Bai.”
“He didn’t even sweat last time! What if that wasn’t his peak? What if that was just his warm-up?!”
“No, stop. Don’t say things like that. I still have a drink to finish.”
The muttering filled the room again, a nervous, jittery energy taking hold.
Elder Bai Qingshui didn’t acknowledge it.
He was already walking to the table.
Still slow. Still quiet.
Still calm in the same way deep waters were calm – because they hid the strongest currents.
He reached the cue rack and picked up his stick. Not a fancy one. No carvings or embellishments. Just a smooth, perfectly balanced cue that he held with the familiarity of a man who’d practiced this motion a thousand times before.
He picked up the chalk.
Ran it once, slowly, across the tip.
Once more.
Set it down.
Then he leaned forward. Squared his stance.
Checked the racked balls.
No one else moved.
Even the tiniest sound – the rustle of a robe, the clink of a cup being placed back on the table – felt too loud in that moment.
The air was expectant.
The silence no longer held peace. It held tension. The kind that wrapped around your ribs and didn’t let go.
Hao stood at the side, arms loosely crossed, gaze locked on the table.
His lips curled into the faintest grin. He could already feel it.
That same perfect stillness from before.
The pressureless strike.
The ripple of movement.
Here it came again.
The cue struck clean.
Not too strong. Not too soft. Just enough to crack the rack open without chaos.
Three balls dropped into the pockets – two solids, one stripe. The cue ball spun gently before kissing the rail and rolling to a graceful stop near center.
“Shit… is this game gonna be just Elder Bai again?”
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
