The meticulously arranged gamble, devised with malicious thoroughness, had nonetheless ended in failure.

Jing Yunquan’s inner turmoil at that moment was indescribable; despite calculating every possibility, he had failed to account for Wang Zhuo’s surprisingly resilient female apprentice, whose consistency and endurance in competition far surpassed that of other players at her level. Coupled with his own run of bad luck—Anqi seizing the initiative in the first frame, which placed considerable pressure on Shen Kai—it ultimately resulted in a crushing defeat.

Although Wang Zhuo had won the bet, escaping by a hair’s breadth, he had nearly been sabotaged by Jing Yunquan. While breathing a sigh of relief, he also made a note of the treacherous man’s actions; settling the debt from the wager was one thing, but settling the score for the underhanded tactics was quite another.

“Say, do you think the guy named Jing will default and report the car as stolen later?”

Guan Yingying had zero trust in the character of the Jing Tianhui family, which extended to their son, Jing Yunquan.

“Probably not. Two million is a lot of money, but he shouldn’t be willing to throw away his reputation for that amount,” Wang Zhuo analyzed while meeting Shen Kai’s gaze, along with that of the lanky, square-faced youth beside him.

As they were speaking, the two men approached. Wang Zhuo wore a calm, unhurried smile. Seeing the two uninvited guests, Guan Yingying turned to greet them, dropping the conversation about the car.

“Is that Wang Zhuo?”

Shen Kai remained silent, but the youth slightly taller than him, about the same height as Wang Zhuo, spoke first. “I am Wang Chaoqun, Shen Kai’s senior apprentice. A pleasure to meet you.”

He offered a greeting that was neither servile nor overbearing, extending a right hand that was long and powerful, much like Wang Zhuo’s.

Wang Zhuo took his hand—it was slightly cool to the touch, dry with a faint roughness, the knuckles strong but not pronounced—a hand perfectly suited for playing billiards.

“No wonder I thought you looked familiar; you’re Wang Chaoqun,” Wang Zhuo chuckled knowingly. “I saw one of your matches on television.”

A faint curl of disdain lifted the corner of Shen Kai’s mouth. Wang Chaoqun was a huge name in the domestic professional snooker scene; he frequently participated in the World Professional Masters and had even achieved a top-eight finish globally. CCTV’s sports channel most often broadcasted his matches, second only to Ding Junhui’s. Given that Wang Zhuo could produce a disciple of Anqi’s caliber, how could he have only seen one of Wang Chaoqun’s matches?

Thus, as soon as Wang Zhuo spoke, Shen Kai interpreted his words as posturing, and Wang Chaoqun also felt Wang Zhuo’s demeanor was somewhat affected, causing him to look down on Wang Zhuo slightly more.

Only Guan Yingying knew that Wang Zhuo was speaking the absolute truth. After all, while Wang Zhuo’s personal life was colorful, he was also a busy man who rarely had time to watch television, occasionally tuning in only for the Xinwen Lianbo broadcast to boost national morale. She suspected Wang Zhuo had only caught the match with Wang Chaoqun by chance when passing by a television or switching channels; suggesting he had deliberately sat down to watch it with "premeditation" would be overstating Wang Chaoqun’s importance.

“I heard Miss Anqi is your apprentice, and that she defeated Shen Kai under your guidance,” Wang Chaoqun said with a smile. “I am exceedingly curious about the mastermind behind mentoring a female amateur player as outstanding as Miss Anqi, so I took the liberty of coming over to make your acquaintance.”

Wang Chaoqun was nearly thirty, making him an elder statesman compared to Wang Zhuo. However, given that Ding Junhui won the UK Championship at twenty-two, it proved that age was not the ultimate measure of heroism in billiards. Therefore, Wang Chaoqun truly couldn't claim seniority over Wang Zhuo; only his status as a world-class professional allowed him to maintain an upper hand in presence.

“Anqi’s victory over Shen Kai involved a degree of luck,” Wang Zhuo replied humbly, seeing Wang Chaoqun’s polite tone. “She is still too young, and hasn’t been playing for very long; she’s still what I’d call a cramping-type player.”

A "cramping-type" player meant inconsistent performance: when playing well, she could beat seasoned masters with unorthodox shots; when playing poorly, she would sink immediately…

Wang Zhuo thought his words were quite mild, but Wang Chaoqun and Shen Kai saw it differently. What was luck? What was youth? What was inexperience? What was cramping? Having won the match, why utter such meaningless platitudes? Wasn't this an indirect way of saying Shen Kai was just a minor player, while his female apprentice held boundless potential?!

This was the classic case of praising one’s own child while offending the bystanders. Wang Chaoqun had come with a fighting spirit, but his initial demeanor had been relatively polite after learning Wang Zhuo’s identity from Shen Kai—knowing he was a prominent social figure. Now, Wang Zhuo overtly praising Anqi in front of him felt like a subtle jab at Shen Kai’s mediocrity, and Wang Chaoqun’s suppressed combativeness instantly ignited!

So, he abandoned all subtlety and stated his purpose directly: “Later, the convention will feature an exhibition match. I wonder if Mr. Wang is interested in a frame against me?”

A challenge from a master-level player! The surrounding spectators, who had been listening to the announcement of the top-eight results from the main stage while observing the interaction between Wang Chaoqun and Wang Zhuo, immediately shifted their focus here.

“Wait, isn’t that Wang Zhuo from Shengshi Dynasty? He plays snooker?” “How novel! He’s a young man in his twenties—young, dashing, beautiful, and rich—why shouldn’t he play snooker? Even eighteen-year-old girls play golf these days!” “Wang Chaoqun wants to play him? Is that a mistake? Aside from Ding Junhui, is there anyone in this country who can handle that monster Wang Chaoqun?” “Only a fool would play him. What’s the point of being utterly crushed in front of so many people?” “Exactly! Not just crushed, I bet he’ll be toyed with relentlessly. Snooker isn’t like other sports; if a master decides to torment a novice, there are a hundred ways to make him wish he were dead!” “Nonsense! That’s Wang Zhuo. Before you say that, find out who he really is! He even managed to shut down Hui Hai. Wang Chaoqun is just a billiards player. If he dares to treat Wang Zhuo like a novice and bully him, does he even want to have a career in this country anymore?”

In an instant, there was a deluge of opinions, covering everything imaginable, and everyone watched Wang Zhuo’s reaction, waiting to see how he would respond to Wang Chaoqun’s challenge.

“All right!” To everyone’s utter surprise, Wang Zhuo paused for only a moment before letting out a hearty laugh and nodding his assent!

“One frame decides the match, how about it?” Wang Chaoqun’s eyes lit up, striking while the iron was hot.

“Let’s add something with a bit more punch, shall we?” Wang Zhuo grinned mischievously, raising an eyebrow as he suggested, “Ten-second speed play—ever tried it?”

Compared to the twenty-five-second shot rule, ten seconds could no longer be called speed play; it was rocket speed. Exceeding the time limit incurred a four-point penalty, a massive challenge for any player!

Wang Chaoqun smiled; Shen Kai also smiled. But the listeners who understood Wang Chaoqun’s style nearly bulged their eyes out! Wang Chaoqun was notoriously a "fast gun" among professionals. This term didn't refer to how quickly he finished when in bed with a woman; it referred to his fierce, aggressive style of play, his overbearing presence, and his efficiency in scoring!

Ten-second speed play had only ever appeared in exhibition matches. Even "Power Snooker," known for its strong rhythm, gave players twenty seconds to take a shot, illustrating how grueling ten seconds was.

But Wang Chaoqun had undergone extensive professional training using the ten-second speed play format, as had his fellow disciple Shen Kai. Moreover, Wang Chaoqun had long since surpassed his mentor; in this specific pace of ten-second speed play, he was confident that if he wasn't invincible, he was very close to it!

Yet, Wang Zhuo had proactively suggested adding "punch," directly intersecting with the area where Wang Chaoqun excelled most. How could he not laugh with delight?

Hearing Wang Zhuo’s proposal, Jing Yunquan, who had just composed himself and squeezed out of the crowd, felt his heart leap violently. He could hardly believe his ears. Was Wang Zhuo completely blinded, or had he taken the wrong medicine? Competing with Wang Chaoqun in speed play was like smashing an egg against a stone!

Shen Kai happened to catch sight of Jing Yunquan approaching and was instantly inspired. He suggested to Wang Chaoqun, “How about we add a stake?”

Wang Chaoqun already felt the match was too easy. Now, he truly believed Wang Zhuo hadn't been talking nonsense earlier; he really had only seen one of his matches. Snooker tournaments were notoriously long, often leaving commentators with nothing left to say, forcing them to repeatedly mention a player's strengths and characteristics. Wang Zhuo’s proposal clearly showed he had no idea about his strengths, which inadvertently proved Wang Zhuo knew very little about him—something a person who had watched multiple matches would never do.

To win against an amateur using his most favored 'fast gun' style, and to add a "stake"? Wang Chaoqun couldn't bring himself to suffer that loss of face. He was about to decline when, unexpectedly, Wang Zhuo readily nodded and said, “Deal…”

Is this guy a walking ATM… Wang Chaoqun was utterly speechless!

“I’ll bet with you!” Jing Yunquan suddenly squeezed to the front, his expression brimming with fierce determination and excitement. “Do we bet on the final score or the number of frames? You set the terms!”

“Oh? Isn’t this Young Master Jing? Did you already deliver the transfer paperwork for the Jaguar?”

Wang Zhuo’s single sentence nearly suffocated Jing Yunquan with rage. Flustered, he waved his fingers and snapped, “The paperwork is in the car. I’ll call the PS shop later and have them assist you with the license plates!”

“Oh? That’s wonderful then,” Wang Zhuo nodded with a smile. “I thought it might be smuggled goods—this is truly an unexpected delight.”

Even the onlookers gathered for the spectacle were left choking on those words. Jing Yunquan’s feelings need no description. Wang Chaoqun had at least a slight acquaintance with Jing Yunquan, and seeing him so thoroughly humiliated by Wang Zhuo, he cleared his throat to smooth things over and proposed to Wang Zhuo, “How about betting on the net frame difference?”