Professional-Grade Skills

Zhuang Wen's family wielded significant influence in Jiangzhou. Though under thirty, his upbringing in political circles had honed diplomatic finesse. He treated Huo Xuan with earnest respect, unaffected by the latter's modest background.

After brief exchanges, Lin Yue excused herself: "I'll indulge in a skincare session. You gentlemen chat."

Left with Zhuang Wen, Huo Xuan inquired: "What's available here?"

"The club offers billiards, bowling, chess rooms, and spa facilities," Zhuang Wen replied with a knowing smile. "Should you desire... companionship, that's also arrangeable."

Huo Xuan's brows lifted imperceptibly. "Let's try billiards."

The hall housed twelve Brunswick tables under crystal chandeliers. Alongside the teak bar sat attendants and cue-wielding hostesses in satin dresses.

Two middle-aged men competed at eight-ball—China's mainstream variant Huo Xuan had played since adolescence. His enhanced vision now dissected trajectories:

Low strike angle—80% miscue probability.

The cue ball vaulted off the felt, confirming his prediction.

Six-ball corner pocket—95% accuracy.

The satisfying clack of successful impact followed.

Watching intently, Huo Xuan realized his sight could now forecast force vectors—whether a billiard collision or hypothetical fistfight.

The victor sank the eight-ball, claiming triumph. His opponent tossed sixteen crimson chips (¥10,000 each) onto the baize before departing.

"Care to try?" Zhuang Wen signaled a waiter, who delivered twenty chips.

Huo Xuan challenged the winner: "One round—¥200,000. You break."

Mr. Guo—the victor—nodded indifferently. Billionaires treated such sums as petty cash.

Guo's break scattered the rack, sinking the five-ball. Two more successful shots followed before momentum stalled at the third attempt.

Huo Xuan circled the table, cue in hand. His stance lacked textbook form, yet the strike sent the fourteen-ball caroming twice before dropping.

"Magnificent!" Zhuang Wen applauded.

Huo Xuan's X-ray vision mapped each collision's kinetic chain. By the eight-ball, an obstructing cluster posed challenges.

"Dead end, lad," Guo smirked.

Huo Xuan's cue struck diagonally. The white ball kissed both rails, spinning the eight-ball into a parabolic arc that culminated in the corner pocket.

"Professional mastery!" Zhuang Wen breathed.

Guo tossed his chips. "Another game? Let's go to the Casino?"

Huo Xuan's pulse quickened—casinos were X-ray vision playgrounds. "Lead the way."