Chapter 20
Ning Zhou dragged Nie Feiang onto the court.
Most players treasured the rare half-day off during training camp, so the hall wasn’t as lively as usual—just a few people practicing on their own.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ning Zhou noticed the rest area.
Xu Zichang, Ning Yang, and Yu Bai were huddled together, staring intently at Ning Yang’s phone…
It was the first time Ning Zhou had seen those three in a group. He raised his eyebrows, “What a coincidence.”
At his voice, the three reacted like startled birds. Especially Ning Yang, who nearly tossed the phone in the air, scrambling to catch it before hiding it behind his back with a sheepish smile, “Z-Zhou Zhou, y-you’re back already?”
Ning Zhou: ?
What were they feeling guilty about?
Letting go of Nie Feiang, he looked at them steadily, “Mm. What are you watching?”
“Haha, what could we be watching?” Xu Zichang bolted toward the court, awkwardly moving hands and feet in sync. “We’re here to practice, of course!”
Ning Yang bobbed his head furiously, shoving the phone into his pocket, “Yeah, we just trained together and were resting a bit…”
“Oh? So tired from training that you didn’t even sweat?”
Ning Zhou fixed his eyes on Yu Bai, “Are they telling the truth?”
Yu Bai answered without hesitation, “No.”
Xu Zichang and Ning Yang gaped at him: A traitor among us!?
Ning Zhou walked up to Ning Yang and plucked the phone from him.
“So what’s tempting you all into slacking off…”
The phone wasn’t even locked. Ning Zhou swiped, and the paused video resumed—It was a fan-made highlight reel of Ning Zhou from episode one of Sports Forward!
He checked the viewing history, “How a Pretty Vase Shattered”
“Mind-blowing! Remember this is actually a sports variety show”
“The man who once trended for his stunning looks is back! A high-profile return”
“Gorgeous looks + godlike field vision, Cupid shot my heart”
Ning Zhou’s brows furrowed deeper and deeper.
“So you three have a thing for clickbait titles?”
Ning Yang muttered weakly, “I don’t think they’re clickbait… the show really is like that…”
Ning Zhou’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Mie Mie, the whole afternoon you three were just huddled here watching variety shows?”
Nie Feiang couldn’t hold back his laughter, “Serves you right! Caught slacking by the ‘King of Grinding.’”
“You dare laugh!” Xu Zichang punched him. “We’re founding members of the ‘Ning Zhou Fan Club,’ and you didn’t even watch? Where were you?”
Ning Zhou rubbed his temples.
“Can we drop that name already? And Nie Feiang’s not in the mood for jokes today…”
“You’re right!” Nie Feiang slapped his own cheeks a few times in regret. “Good bro, Zhou Zhou, next time you record, make sure to call me to watch together!”
“….”
Ning Zhou sighed, handing the phone back to Ning Yang, “Fine, keep watching. I’m going to train.”
“No more, I swear! Zhou Zhou, trust me, we did practice a little this afternoon!” Ning Yang stuffed the phone in his bag to show his determination.
“Wait—why are you all calling him ‘Zhou Zhou’?” Xu Zichang looked between Ning Yang and Nie Feiang. “Did I miss something?”
Nie Feiang smirked, winking, “I’m his roommate, I’ve got privileges!”
“I don’t care, I’m calling him Zhou Zhou too!”
“No way!” Ning Yang snapped. “Zhou Zhou’s nickname isn’t for just anyone!”
They bickered like little kids fighting over candy in public, so noisy it was unbearable. Ning Zhou silently recited Don’t Get Angry a few times and began warming up at the sidelines.
Yu Bai followed right behind him, “Ning Zhou, what are you planning to practice?”
Since Yu Bai didn’t insist on calling him “Zhou Zhou,” Ning Zhou’s mood lightened, “I’m going to work on setting drills with Nie Feiang. I haven’t given him enough chances before.”
Yu Bai nodded, picking up on it, “I’m also looking for a setter to sync with—perfect timing, I’ll join you.”
“What do you mean ‘just right’!” Ning Yang rushed over and dragged away the blockhead disciple. “Your serve receive is a mess, and you want to run away?”
Ning Zhou glanced at the serving machine by the court.
“So you were practicing serve receive. Then let’s all do it together!”
On the court, a strange training combination appeared—
Ning Yang controlled the serving machine, guiding Xu Zichang and Yu Bai to take turns receiving.
When the pass landed in Ning Zhou’s hands, he teamed up with Nie Feiang to run quick attacks.
It was practically a complete assembly line.
Nie Feiang had complaints about the drill, “Zhou Zhou, why are we always practicing quick shoots? Assistant Coach Hou said my blocking is no good…”
“That’s exactly why they transferred you.”
Ning Zhou hooked a finger, signaling him to come closer, “Your strength isn’t blocking—it’s attacking.”
Nie Feiang stepped beside him, doubtful, “But my spiking is just like any other middle blocker’s. Nothing special.”
Ning Zhou tilted his head, his foxlike eyes curving, “Then let’s try something different. Come here, lend me your ear…”
“?”
After hearing Ning Zhou’s idea, Nie Feiang’s expression turned complicated.
“Will that really work? I’ve been a middle blocker since I first touched volleyball. I’ve never heard of the tactic you’re describing.”
Ning Zhou shrugged, “It’s not really a tactic. Just a sudden idea—just for fun…”
“Fun?” Nie Feiang’s voice cracked. “This is my lowest emo moment! How can we waste time fooling around?”
Ning Zhou looked up at him, his amber eyes wide and innocent, “So… do you want to try or not?”
Nie Feiang fidgeted with the net, hesitating again and again, then finally pointed at the floor, “…So I jump from here, right?”
Ning Zhou snapped his fingers with a grin, “Exactly. The rest is all yours!”
At the gym entrance.
“Eh? Coach Luo? Didn’t go home to rest on the holiday?”
Assistant Coach Hou arrived and found Coach Luo frozen at the doorway, staring inside.
Coach Luo was slow to react, “…Oh.”
“?” Assistant Coach Hou followed his gaze. “What’s got you so absorbed?”
On that side of the court, Ning Yang placed a ball into the machine. “Xu Zichang, this one’s yours!”
Thump—the ball shot out. The speed wasn’t fast. Xu Zichang had already gotten used to the rhythm. He bounced lightly on his feet, adjusted position, and made the pass. The ball went within the 3-meter line—perfect pass!
Ning Zhou stepped under the ball, gave a quick cue, “Here we go!”
As he spoke, Nie Feiang locked onto the ball and began his approach. Ning Zhou gave a small jump, tapped the ball with his fingers, altering its drop. The ball popped straight up almost on the spot, its trajectory mirroring its fall…
Assistant Coach Hou drew in a breath, tense, “A mismatch? That ball’s too close!”
“No…” Coach Luo braced one hand on the doorway, a rare spark of excitement lighting his face. “That’s exactly the limit position!”
After setting the ball high, Ning Zhou landed, instantly retreating one step back. At the same moment, Nie Feiang leapt explosively, swinging hard. His hitting point was right above where Ning Zhou had just stood…
To bystanders, only one word could describe the play—Fast.
Like an alley-oop in the air—the ball went down, then up, completing a full attack in an instant. It was hard to even tell if Ning Zhou had touched it.
Assistant Coach Hou’s pupils shrank, “That’s… a quick set inside the body? No, even closer than that!”
Quick attacks between setter and middle blocker come in many forms. The “close quick” usually means the middle spiking about 50 cm in front of the setter. It’s lightning fast, often leaving blockers and defenders too slow to react. But just now, Nie Feiang’s jump overlapped half a body’s distance with Ning Zhou—this could be called an ultra-close quick set…
Realizing this, Assistant Coach Hou adjusted his glasses, shaking his head repeatedly, “Coach Luo, we can’t just let them mess around like this! If that setter hadn’t dodged fast enough, they would’ve collided! Chasing speed like this is just asking for injuries!”
“At first, I thought the same,” Coach Luo said, absentmindedly rubbing the doorframe with his fingers. “But after watching them repeat it, I realized their success isn’t a coincidence…”
“Normally, the middle would crash straight into the setter. But Ning Zhou is on the short side, quick on his feet. Nie Feiang’s jump is unusually explosive, and by delaying his takeoff a fraction, they naturally create an overlapping window for attack!”
“…Unbelievable,” muttered Assistant Coach Hou. “To even dare attempt this…”
Coach Luo’s eyes shone, “Xiao Hou, we’ll need to revise the first-team shortlist. Add Nie Feiang to the candidates—his explosiveness could create countless possibilities!”
“…Alright.”
Assistant Coach Hou took out his small notebook and jotted notes. But his pen paused, and he voiced the thought weighing on him, “What about Ning Zhou?”
Coach Luo froze, the fervor in his eyes cooling bit by bit…
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