[Translator Note: Hi guys! This is my first attempt to translate any Sport Type novel, so if you caught any wrong professional terms please forgive me >.< If you caught any term error, please kindly leave a comment, I will try to fix the error if I see it~]
This novel is dedicated to JulyPaul on KoFi~
Chapter 1
End of the set. The score is razor-close.
In a long rally, both sides desperately want the point— Don’t let the ball drop. Absolutely can’t lose!
Ning Zhou clung to this one belief, lunging out with long strides to save the ball…
The spin, the fall speed, the distance from the floor—he saw it all clearer than ever.
Danger! Don’t dive!
The shouts around him blurred, but Ning Zhou ignored them. He pushed off hard, soaring in a perfect dive.
He stretched out his arm, hand reaching forward.
Just a few centimeters more, and he could slip in between the ball and floor, saving it!
“Careful—!”
Before touching the ball, a sharp, bone-deep pain shot through his fingertips, overwhelming him in a crashing wave—
“Hah—! Huff… huff…”
Ning Zhou jolted awake from the dream, drenched in cold sweat, his body chilled to the bone.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d dreamed of that match…
For that ball, his right hand had slammed directly into the courtside LED advertisement board, snapping two finger bones instantly.
For a setter, finger injuries were devastating.
Through sheer willpower, Ning Zhou went through treatment and rehab…
But no matter what he tried, he never regained his old form.
Still, he refused to give up his place as national team substitute.
Before his fingers fully healed, he rushed back to training.
The injury became chronic, flaring up worse each time. The team had no use for a broken player.
Finally, when his fingers went so numb he couldn’t set accurately anymore, the national team cut him from even the substitute bench.
A lifelong substitute with no results—Ning Zhou retired in obscurity.
He sighed softly, mourning his pitiful athletic career, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.
“Hm?”
Why wasn’t there pain in his fingers? Were his nerves numb again?
“Hm??”
He focused, clenching and unclenching his fists. Each finger moved smoothly, nothing like numbness at all…
Lying in bed, his eyes froze, staring at the wooden slats above.
“Hm???”
Slats? He’d gone to sleep in a single bed!
“What are you yelling for? Don’t you let people sleep?”
A face poked down from the top bunk. With messy “chicken nest” hair and sleepy eyes, the man squinted at him, “Why do you look so terrified? You okay?”
Ning Zhou stared, dumbfounded, at that familiar yet unfamiliar face, “Nie… Nie Feiang?”
“What’s wrong?” The “chicken nest” guy frowned in confusion.
He glanced at his phone, then suddenly bolted upright, cracking his head on the ceiling with a loud thunk, yelping in pain, “Crap, overslept!”
At that sound of a head hitting the ceiling, Ning Zhou was finally certain—this silly big guy was absolutely Nie Feiang!
During the national team’s large-scale training camp, Nie Feiang was Ning Zhou’s roommate.
Later, when Nie Feiang didn’t make it into the first team, their contact gradually dwindled…
But that had been when Ning Zhou was 20 years old—so why was Nie Feiang lying on the bunk above him now?
With his over-two-meter height and long legs, Nie Feiang simply stepped halfway down the ladder and swung himself off the top bunk.
Then, fumbling clumsily, he changed into his training shirt and quick-dry pants, hopping on one leg as he tried to get the other into the pant leg, “Ten minutes until afternoon training! Hurry, hurry, hurry!”
His ridiculous movements were even messier than Ning Zhou’s thoughts, but somehow they made Ning Zhou calm down instead…
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Ning Zhou scanned the room. On the desk sat a calendar with “Go all out for training camp!” marked in red pen; beside the pillow, a volleyball wiped spotlessly clean by its owner.
The bed beneath him was an extra-long one, custom-made for the men’s volleyball players who all exceeded average height…
Without a doubt, this was the dorm from that training camp.
Mind creaking like rusty gears, Ning Zhou shuffled over to the desk, fingers reaching for the year written on the calendar—2021.
Nie Feiang finished changing, glanced at the petrified Ning Zhou by the desk, and smacked him hard on the shoulder, “Come on! If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for training! What’s up with you today? Normally you’d be at the court early doing extra drills. So even the ‘King of Hard Work’ oversleeps sometimes, huh…”
Almost in a daze, Ning Zhou pulled on his jersey and shoes, and let Nie Feiang drag him out of the dorm. Together, they sprinted toward the training court.
The wind brushing past his cheeks gradually cleared Ning Zhou’s head.
It didn’t feel real—his feet seemed to float as though stepping on cotton, carrying him all the way to the entrance of the gymnasium…
Bang! Pa!
The sound of palms striking volleyballs echoed from inside. Ning Zhou froze at the entrance, heart pounding as if it would burst out of his chest—He was reborn!
Back to five years ago. Back to 2021, at age 20, before anything had begun…
“What are you blocking the door for?”
Nie Feiang gave him a shove from behind. Stumbling two steps, Ning Zhou crossed the threshold into the gym.
The squeak of shoes against the polished court floor surged strength into him. His throat tightened, eyes stinging with the urge to cry…
Nie Feiang was startled by his tearful look, “Y-y-you… I only gave you a little push, okay? I swear I wasn’t bullying you!”
Ning Zhou laughed through his tears, sniffed hard, and forced the emotions back down. “I know.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to bawl?” Nie Feiang squinted knowingly. “So you skipped one noon training session, big deal. You grind-a-holics really can’t take it, huh?”
Ning Zhou waved him off. “I’m fine. Stop guessing. Let’s get ready to train…”
Just then, a teammate ran in through the entrance, shouting, “Coaches are still in a meeting—self-warm-up for now!”
Nie Feiang slapped his forehead. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have rushed! Ning Zhou, wanna do some passing drills together?”
“Sure.”
They found a patch of empty court. Nie Feiang grabbed a ball and tossed it high toward Ning Zhou.
Ning Zhou let out a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart—If he was back in his 20-year-old body, then these hands should be…
He spread his palms, raised them to his forehead in the classic overhead setting position.
As the ball descended, ten fingers sprang into action like coiled springs, sending the ball flying smoothly away—Feeling the health and strength of his hands, Ning Zhou trembled with excitement.
“Hey!?”
Nie Feiang leapt, arms stretched, but couldn’t even touch the ball Ning Zhou had set back.
The ball flew high, strong, and flat over his head…
Ning Zhou hunched his shoulders guiltily.
His pre-injury fingers were stronger than he had expected.
“Sorry, I set it too hard…”
Nie Feiang stomped over to retrieve the ball, grumbling, “No way. What setter makes a setting error that bad? You’re definitely holding a grudge against me today. Forget it—I’m not training with you!”
He turned and stalked off, dramatic to the core.
The corner of Ning Zhou’s mouth twitched. With a helpless shrug, he sat down on the bench at the sidelines. He touched his face—it was burning hot, flushed from the rush of being reborn. That setting touch had been too perfect, too real, yanking him firmly into this new reality. If he remembered correctly, this was only the first week of training camp.
Twenty years ago, China’s men’s volleyball team had a golden generation. That squad pioneered numerous tactics, reached the Olympic semifinals twice in a row, and forged the peak of men’s volleyball history.
But their brilliance was short-lived. As those players retired and European volleyball surged ahead, China’s men’s team declined. Their world ranking slid from the top five down to twentieth.
In 2020, they failed to qualify for the Olympics, branded by the media as “the weakest generation ever.” To rebuild, the Chinese Volleyball Association disbanded both the first and second national teams. Instead, they scouted promising players from the domestic league to form the 2021 training camp. Those who performed best could earn a direct spot on the national team.
In his past life, that training camp had been Ning Zhou’s ticket into the national team—the start of his days as a substitute. Back then, desperate to make the team, he sacrificed all free time during camp, often staying up late for extra self-training. At just 1.78m tall, he still fought his way into the roster. But now—he had another chance!
Ning Zhou lay back peacefully on the bench, cooling his head. No more grinding! Work yourself sick, and no one will replace you. The true essence of life is to slack off!
So what if he fought his way into the team again? It would only ruin his body. This healthy, uninjured body was the greatest gift rebirth had given him. This life, he’d just play volleyball for fun.
The helplessness of injury, the bitterness of watching from the bench, the loneliness of retiring in obscurity…
He never wanted to experience those feelings again.
After figuring things out, the gloom clouding Ning Zhou’s chest finally dissipated. From now on, the “King of Overtraining” was gone—time for the salted-fish lifestyle!
The overhead lights in the gym shone right into Ning Zhou’s eyes. He squinted and lifted his hand to block them. Light slipped between his fingers, outlining their shape. His gaze unconsciously fixed on his own fingers, and joy welled up inside him.
Ever since the bones in his right hand broke, his fingers had always been wrapped in bandages or tape. On days when the pain before a match was unbearable, he ignored the doctor’s warnings and took painkillers to force himself onto the court, which left his fingers swollen and numb, so bloated that the size difference between his two hands was obvious…
“So this is what my hands used to look like!”
He carefully traced his hands with his eyes. Pale skin stretched over faint blue veins, the palms carrying thin calluses left behind by volleyball.
Best of all were his slender fingers—nails neatly trimmed, joints well-defined, carrying the strength of years of practicing sets.
On the inside of his right ring finger, a tiny black mole dotted the skin. As Ning Zhou stared at that mole, lost in thought, he felt someone sit at the other end of the bench…
So, Nie Feiang’s temper had blown over quickly.
Ning Zhou found it funny, and proudly showed off, “Finished practicing? Look at my hands, aren’t they especially pretty?”
That person’s burning gaze lingered on his hands for a while before speaking, “Y…y-yes.”
“…?” That voice was wrong!
Ning Zhou quickly pulled his hands back and lifted his eyes. Along with the glare of the lights came a pair of dark, razor-sharp eyes…
“Uh, sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”
He sat up straight at once, blinking away the dazzle to get a proper look at the newcomer—A clean, cropped haircut, thick brows, a straight nose, the line from ear to jaw to Adam’s apple sharp and cutting.
Even just sharing the same bench, Ning Zhou felt a beast-like pressure rolling off him…
He searched his memory. Yu Bai. During this training camp, he had burst onto the scene as a rookie and quickly secured a spot as a national team starter.
Every tournament, he was the team’s top scorer. His physical ability was on par with the world’s elite attackers. But what baffled the media was that he chose to retire while still in his prime.
Ning Zhou felt a strange connection with him—Because the day Yu Bai announced his retirement was the very same day Ning Zhou was stripped of his national team status.
But unlike Ning Zhou’s silent, gloomy exit, Yu Bai was hounded by reporters, his retirement dominating every headline and social feed. They were simply not from the same world…
With that sigh, Ning Zhou gave a polite nod. “Hello, my name’s Ning Zhou.”
Yu Bai’s expression froze, his brows knitting, his face suddenly fierce. Ning Zhou instinctively leaned back, edging toward the end of the bench. “Uh… and you are…?”
“You don’t know me?”
“I… probably don’t?”
Ning Zhou’s lashes trembled uneasily, certain that this was their first meeting in this lifetime.
Yu Bai’s aura turned even heavier. “Yu Bai.”
He dropped the words, then stood up, hands in his jacket pockets, and strode away. Leaving behind a completely bewildered Ning Zhou…
Draped in a black tracksuit jacket, his downward-slanting eyes only made it more obvious to anyone with sense—do not provoke him in this mood.
But of course, there was someone without that sense…
“Heh, so the two ‘connections’ already know each other?”
A man shorter than Yu Bai was tossing a volleyball against the wall not far from the bench.
His eyebrows were long, cheekbones slightly sharp. Though his eyes were on the ball, he was clearly aware of his surroundings.
As Yu Bai passed behind him, he let those words drop lightly, dripping with mockery…
Ning Zhou recognized him with some surprise—Shao Qiu, setter.
He had been selected as a starter for the national team from this very training camp. In Ning Zhou’s past life, Ning Zhou had been his substitute…
Yu Bai caught the sneer in his tone, and his stride faltered. “Who are you talking about?”
“Shouldn’t a ‘connections kid’ already know the answer?”
Shao Qiu caught the ball in both hands and turned around, his high cheekbones sharpening his disdain, “You two—one cut in after training camp started, the other not even 1.80 meters tall. Everyone knows exactly how you got in! I hope you both leave soon, so you don’t drag down the national team’s level.”
“Talking out of your ass?”
Yu Bai grabbed Shao Qiu by the collar. Even through the jacket, the muscle lines in his arms were visible as he yanked the 1.90-meter-plus Shao Qiu off balance…
Were they about to fight!?
The scattered players around the gym picked up on the commotion, one by one stopping their drills to watch with hungry eyes…
“Calm down!” Ning Zhou rushed in, trying to pry the two apart. “Impulsiveness is the devil! Talk it out!”
But compared to his 1.78 meters, the two of them were mountains.
He had no strength to separate them, and could only plead with words…
“What’s going on here?”
A slow, middle-aged man’s voice drifted in from the gym entrance. To Ning Zhou, it was like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky—The head coach was here!
If the coach caught them fighting, they’d be kicked out of camp immediately…
Ning Zhou hastily rearranged his expression into a calm smile, “Coach, hello! Nothing happened, they were just introducing themselves.”
He slapped both of their arms, enunciating clearly, signaling wildly: “Now you know each other, that’s enough.”
Following Ning Zhou’s tug on his sleeve, Yu Bai released Shao Qiu and said coldly, “Spreading rumors comes with a cost. Watch your mouth.”
Shao Qiu didn’t back down. “Just speaking the truth. What, you gonna hit me?”
Ning Zhou: …
His efforts were basically worth less than dog poop.jpg
The head coach’s long bangs swayed in front of his forehead. After a brief pause, he actually smiled, “What’s all this about athletes fighting and brawling?
Victory and defeat should be decided on the court. Since you have a conflict, then let’s settle it with a practice match!”
“!”
The onlooking players crowded around, voices buzzing louder and louder with excitement…
Ning Zhou, having failed to stop the quarrel, slumped back onto the bench, trying to blend into the background and just watch things unfold.
But the very next second, the coach’s finger landed squarely in his direction, “You’re a setter, right? You’ll join Yu Bai’s side.”
“???”
In his memory, during the first week of training camp, there had never been any practice matches!
The surrounding players began whispering, and the focus of their gossip shifted to Ning Zhou.
On his first day after being reborn, Ning Zhou’s wish to just coast along and loaf around—dead on arrival…
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