I Really Am Just a Substitute – CH28

Chapter 28

All the players in training camp shared one common goal—Use this national training opportunity to break into the national team.

Once the Asian Championship roster was announced, those who didn’t make the cut saw their hopes extinguished… yet a tiny ember still burned.

Their goal shifted: after the Championship, if adjustments were made to the first team, maybe a few lucky players would be chosen…

And just as they hoped, the coaching staff wasn’t satisfied with the roster. But the two “lucky ones” Coach Luo favored turned out to be completely unexpected—One had been kicked out of training to play U21. The other had raw skills but no proven record.

The training squad hadn’t even considered these two as real competition…

This so-called “friendly” match, sudden and unfair as it seemed, was in fact the training squad’s last chance:

If they could crush the Seven, prove Ning Zhou and Song Hanrun weren’t national team material, maybe Coach Luo would pick others instead…

The blocker’s plan was clear: Song Hanrun would crumble under pressure on his own, no need to worry about him. It was stable-minded Ning Zhou they all needed to target. If the plan worked, two national team slots would open up!

But in the very first point, that freak first-ball “direct score” put Ning Zhou in the spotlight.

After being fooled by Ning Zhou’s feint, the blocker glanced at the coaches. The way they were looking at Ning Zhou—full of admiration—stoked his frustration.

His anger festered. When he was arguing with Ning Zhou at the ref’s stand, Yu Bai hadn’t just stood by. He had strolled right up behind Ning Zhou.

The blocker had always used his height to loom over Ning Zhou, but with Yu Bai’s arrival, his intimidation faltered. Seeing Yu Bai protecting Ning Zhou again and again, as if adding fuel to fire, only made his hostility burn hotter.

Not only the national team coaches, but even the national team’s rising star was siding with Ning Zhou! A replay of the second rally, being called out for deliberate obstruction, losing the battle of presence to Yu Bai…

He couldn’t even tell which straw had broken the camel’s back. His anger just exploded all at once.

With a sneak shove, he pushed Ning Zhou aside. For a moment he felt relieved, about to grin—But then came the suffocating aura pressing down on him…

And with it, Yu Bai’s fist. The blocker flinched to defend himself, but the punch was faster—landing solidly.

As a men’s volleyball athlete, his muscle mass provided some protection. But Yu Bai’s blows were uncanny—aimed only at the most painful spots, avoiding bone and vital points…

The blocker let out a bloodcurdling scream, echoing through the entire gym.

“Stop! Don’t fight!”

Players from both sides rushed in to pull them apart, but they couldn’t drag Yu Bai off. The scene dissolved into chaos…

Ning Zhou thought Yu Bai had truly lost control, his heart leaping into his throat.

He squeezed into the scuffle, wrapped his arms around Yu Bai from behind, and yanked him back, “Yu Bai! Stop it! Do you want to get written up? Do you still want to play volleyball or not!?”

The words seemed to get through. Yu Bai’s punches slowed. The blocker finally saw hope in the storm of blows, flailing desperately with wild, dirty counters…

Ning Zhou felt his arm get pinched, “Tss—”

Wrong person, idiot! Yu Bai’s ears twitched. Suddenly, he pulled back.

He withdrew from the “battlefield” in one step, and at the same time scooped Ning Zhou out with him, “Where did you get hurt?”

“…I’m fine.” Ning Zhou hid his arm behind his back, equal parts worried and furious.
“Why are you asking me? You’re the one who was fighting!”

Yu Bai knew he was in the wrong. He turned his eyes away, silent…

Meanwhile, the blocker was still lying on the ground, screaming, “It hurts! Help!”

“Quit wailing… Medic!”

The team doctor, who had been waiting at the edge of the court, finally had something to do. Carrying his first-aid kit, he ran over and cleared out some space.

After a few minutes of examination, he didn’t even use the pain-relief spray, “Alright, you’re fine.”

“Huh!?” The blocking player shot up, “Impossible! Check again. I was in so much pain I nearly passed out. There must be something seriously wrong!”

Holding back his temper, the doctor examined him again, “Really, nothing’s wrong. Your bones and muscles are intact.”

“BEEP—”

The head referee pulled a red card from his shirt pocket, holding it high, lingering first on Yu Bai, then on the blocking player. Both sides, one red card each…

The blocking player leapt up from the ground, “Why do I get a red card too!? I was the one being beaten the whole time!”

The head referee sternly explained, “You made the first move, shoving him maliciously.”

“I…”

In volleyball, players face each other across the net, so physical clashes are rare; red and yellow cards don’t happen often. And the punishment for a red card isn’t as severe as in other sports—it just costs the team one point.

At the moment, the score was 1:0. Subtracting a point each, both teams were back to square one…

After all that play, the score was actually in the negatives. Head Coach Luo stepped in to settle things, “Enough, both sides are penalized, but we won’t deduct points. We’ll continue from 1:0.”

His smile turned menacing, “The two with the red cards—come here!”

The blocking player flinched and, together with Yu Bai, walked over to face the scolding.

“Deliberate obstruction, shoving with your hands—both are dangerous actions. What if your opponent had been injured? Do you want to be branded a volleyball player with poor sportsmanship?”

“C-Coach, I was wrong…” The blocker felt Yu Bai’s cold glare from the side, the spots where he had been punched still aching. “I’ll never do it again…”

After reprimanding him, Coach Luo turned and caught Yu Bai glaring threateningly at the blocker, “What are you staring at him for? You think you were in the right?”

“No. I was wrong.”

Yu Bai bowed his head, posture textbook-perfect for a self-criticism. But Coach Luo could feel he wasn’t reflecting at all.

Clearly a “repeat offender”—someone who knew exactly how to play along with coaches…

Coach Luo ground his teeth, “One of these days, I’ll have to chat with your old basketball coach…”

“Just a few words are enough, Coach. Everyone’s waiting for the match.” Zhang Kang chimed in, amused, smoothing things over. “It’s a friendly match—meant to ‘fight’ out some friendship, right?”

Coach Luo’s eye twitched, “Is that what you call playing friendly…?”

He sighed heavily, turning back to the blocking player, “You’ve been whining about the pain. Can you still play? Should I sub you out?”

“No! I can keep going!”

The blocker returned to the court, still stewing: Can’t beat him in a fight, but I’ll crush them in volleyball…

On the seven-man team’s side, Yu Bai was greeted like a hero.

Xu Zichang and Nie Feiang showered him with praise, “Yu Bai’s the kind of guy you can count on—he really steps up when it matters! And right in front of the coaches too, so badass!”

“That guy kept picking on Zhou Zhou—no way you could just let it go!” Ning Yang agreed.

“You all shut up already…” Ning Zhou shooed them away. “Haven’t we stirred up enough trouble?”

When he pushed Yu Bai aside earlier, he hadn’t managed to move him; instead, Yu Bai had grabbed his arm. Ning Zhou’s skin was fair—any bump or pinch would leave a mark. It showed quickly, though it faded just as fast.

On his arm, in addition to the bruises left from volleyball training, there was now a patch of reddened skin. Bright red, glaringly obvious—a fresh mark.

“!” Ning Zhou raised his other hand awkwardly to cover it. “Uh, he probably mistook my arm for yours and pinched it by accident…”

So embarrassing. What kind of professional athlete gets a mark that red from a little pinch…

As he covered it, Yu Bai’s gaze fixed on his hand, “Want me to call the medic for pain relief?”

“No, no, no!” Ning Zhou quickly pulled away. “It just looks obvious, I don’t even feel it. Forget what just happened—we’re still in the middle of a match!”

“…Alright.”

Yu Bai’s response was low, subdued, but his focus returned to the game. His eyes locked in, sharp as a hunter’s crosshairs—aimed straight at someone across the net.

Hunt: Target locked.

The brawl seemed to have left no impact on the “friendly” match.

The training team played with practiced coordination, and with their coaches calling timeouts and making substitutions at the right moments, they held the rhythm firmly in hand.

The seven-man squad, on the other hand, lacked that synergy—often two players lunged for the same ball, and their blocking and defense were a mess.

Fortunately, Ning Zhou’s unpredictable setting kept the opposition from figuring them out, helping his team maintain a steady side-out success rate.

The two teams traded points back and forth, neither able to pull ahead. The tense balance acted like an anesthetic, numbing the players to everything outside the game.

In that numbing state, the blocking player sensed something off—He suspected Yu Bai had locked onto him. The training coaches had instructed their blockers to focus on Yu Bai.

So Ning Zhou didn’t set to him often, only slipping a few surprise balls his way.

But every time Yu Bai went up for a spike—no matter where the blocker had rotated to—that ball was smashed into his defensive zone…

The unease in his chest kept building. Forcing himself to play on, he wondered uneasily: It’s just my imagination, right…?

20:20.

The first set had reached a critical endgame point, with the training team serving.

Ning Yang delivered a high, accurate pass to Ning Zhou. Ning Zhou’s eyes swept the opponent’s formation and quickly set to Yu Bai. Throughout the first set, when the passes were on target, Ning Zhou had mostly run quick attacks through the middle blockers. But this time, he suddenly set to position 4—where Yu Bai was.

The training team’s blockers, fooled by the middle as bait, jumped late—and realized halfway up that Ning Zhou had actually set a fast ball to the outside hitter at position 4. The training team’s middle blocker was quick on his feet. He jumped a second time, but couldn’t catch up to the ball’s position and had no choice but to throw up a single arm for a desperate block.

Ning Zhou had shaken loose a one-and-a-half-man block for Yu Bai—a golden opportunity!

Yu Bai stepped in with plenty of momentum. Matching the height of Ning Zhou’s set, he held back some of his jump, spiking at around 3.3 meters.

It wasn’t an extraordinary height, but what stood out was his hang-time.

He didn’t rush his swing after taking off. He waited until he confirmed his locked target’s position before smashing the ball down…

To the audience, Yu Bai seemed to pause in midair for a split second—graceful yet violent. But to the blocking player, the ball reached his face faster than his nerves could even react…

He had always believed volleyball couldn’t carry human emotions. The fraction of a second between an attacker’s palm striking the ball—whether they were happy, angry, or sad—was far too short to transmit any feelings into it.

But this one, surging like a hurricane, shattered everything he thought he knew. A spike could carry killing intent.

“Hhk—!”

The blocking player sucked in a sharp breath. He wanted to turn away, to escape, to step out of the ball’s path—but the sheer pressure riding on that spike pinned him down. His legs felt like lead. He couldn’t move an inch…

In panic, he tilted his head at the last second. The ball grazed past his face, whipping his hair by his ear like a shiver. Frozen in a defensive stance, he stood stiff, experiencing for the first time in his life what “a brush with death” truly meant. He couldn’t even tell if it was the athlete’s skill or his own survival instincts that had just spared him…

A teammate noticed his pale expression and hurried over to steady him, “It’s fine, don’t beat yourself up. The ball was way too fast—anyone would’ve missed that.”

Blocking player: …

At that moment, he really wanted to curse. But even if he did, his teammate wouldn’t understand. That murderous intent had been directed at him alone.

The teammate went on encouraging him: “So what if you missed that one? Next time, you’ll definitely—”

Next time? The blocking player’s stiff neck creaked as he slowly turned toward Yu Bai. And Yu Bai just happened to be staring right back at him—expression heavy, as if wondering: Why is it so hard to kill you?

Every hair on the blocker’s body stood on end. He slapped a cold, clammy hand over his teammate’s mouth, “There won’t be a next time!”

Stumbling, he made his way to the coaches, trembling like a leaf, “Coach, please sub me out! I can’t take it anymore—if I stay out there, I’ll di— I’ll pass out from the pain…”

“…Got it. Go see the team doctor again and get some rest.”

“Thank you, Coach!”

The training team’s coach switched him out and called a timeout to rearrange the lineup. The blocker barely managed to drag his noodle-soft legs into the crowd. Only after he no longer felt that burning gaze on him did he finally breathe out in relief.

The team doctor blinked in surprise when he saw him again: “What, injured already?”

“My muscles and bones are fine.”

The doctor froze mid-reach into his med kit. “…Then why are you here?”

“I just need to catch my breath,” the blocker muttered dazedly. “Doc, you know… the chances of dying from volleyball are really small, but not zero…”

“?” The doctor hesitated. “I know a good psychiatrist, if you need one…”

*

The seven-man team had no coach for this friendly match. During the timeout, they could only huddle and argue tactics among themselves.

Intern Captain Ning Zhou, however, stayed silent. After some thought, he pulled Yu Bai aside and asked quietly, “That last ball—you aimed it at their guy, didn’t you? If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize. I’m not trying to accuse you…”

“Yes.” Yu Bai’s face was perfectly matter-of-fact. “Too bad I didn’t snap my wrist right—otherwise, I would’ve nailed him.”

Ning Zhou’s tone cooled instantly, “Do you have to solve problems with violence?”

Yu Bai tilted his head, studying him in confusion, “But I wasn’t the one who started it. He shouted at you, shoved you, and even pinched you…”

“So you just decided to handle it for me? In a way that could’ve been dangerous?”

Yu Bai had never seen Ning Zhou this angry before. He immediately dropped his head, “Zhou Zhou, I’m sorry…”

“Beep beep!”

The referee signaled the timeout was over.

Ning Zhou exhaled slowly, word by word, “What do you take volleyball for?”

With that, he turned away. No matter what Yu Bai said as he followed after, Ning Zhou ignored him completely.

21–20.

22–20.

22–21.

…

For the final points of the first set, Ning Zhou didn’t give Yu Bai a single set.

The training team’s strategy had been to focus their defense on Yu Bai, and Yu Bai kept waiting, expecting the sets to come his way. But Ning Zhou never sent him the ball.

With Yu Bai, their star, sidelined, the training team’s defense grew more and more chaotic. Their coach had already used all his timeouts, unable to reset their tactics, and in the end, they narrowly lost to the seven-man team.

The first set closed at 25–22.

The seven-man team led 1–0.

During the break, Ning Zhou still refused to acknowledge Yu Bai, who tried to sidle up to him. 

Instead, Ning Zhou double-checked the hand signals with Nie Feiang, “Remember them? We’ll be using all these types of quicks. Keep your eyes on the signals and don’t just jump blindly.”

“Mm-mm!” Nie Feiang sneaked a nervous glance at Yu Bai, clutching Ning Zhou. “T-Today you’re really giving me that many different sets to hit?”

Ning Zhou nodded. “I’m giving you more balls. When you’re in the front row, seize every chance to score.”

“Okay!”

On the sidelines, Chen Wenyao finally exhaled. “Whew—that first set was tough. Now that we’ve got it, we should be in the clear, right?”

“Not necessarily…” Shao Qiu poured cold water over him. “Look at their mood—it’s even worse than it was earlier when things weren’t going well.”

“For real… Those brats—don’t they know the coaches are watching? Even if they’re faking it, they’d better at least pretend to get along!”

Chen Wenyao muttered, nerves shooting back up, “If they lose, I’ll give each of them a beating!”

Du Jun hesitated again and again, before finally edging up to Coach Luo. Uneasy, he said, “Coach, maybe give them a sub slot… I can go in for Yu Bai…”

“No.”

Zhang Kang cut in quickly with his refusal, “The situation is getting interesting. Without relying on their star, how will they handle the match? Aren’t you curious?”

Du Jun was left speechless and had no choice but to hold his impatience and keep watching…

The second set began.

Ning Yang and Xu Zichang, the “master and disciple” pair, secured the first passes. As soon as a pass was accurate, Ning Zhou would feed a quick set to Nie Feiang.

Nie Feiang’s jump speed was rare even in international matches. Even if the training camp blockers knew he was coming, they couldn’t adapt to his take-off rhythm and never caught the timing…

When Nie Feiang rotated out of the front row, Ning Zhou relied on Xu Zichang and Song Hanrun for points. Though Yu Bai was on court, he was treated like he was sitting on the bench.

With one less attacking option, Ning Zhou had to stretch himself thin, but he could just barely manage.

The score moved forward bit by bit, but Ning Zhou felt a faint unease—

Why wasn’t the training camp team anxious at all?

They were already down a set, and with Yu Bai sidelined, the Seven’s scoring was smoother than ever. So why were the opponents playing so calm and unhurried?

Ning Zhou shot a glance at the training camp coach. Could it be… they had already found a counter strategy?

As the thought flashed by, Xu Zichang passed up a serve-receive.

Ning Zhou focused, slipping into his wide-field vision mode:

The training camp’s blocking defense hadn’t shifted—the middle blocker was still locking onto Nie Feiang, ready to pre-jump and shut down the lightning-quick attack…

Ning Zhou suddenly changed his setting posture—torso leaning back, waist bending fluidly, snapping the ball quickly behind him.

A back set to position 2!

The training camp’s middle blocker couldn’t close the block in time. Ning Zhou praised inwardly:

Perfect! A single blocker against our opposite hitter!

“Bang!”

The men’s game is so fast—within a blink, the sound of the ball hitting the floor rang out. Ning Zhou turned around to check—only to see the ball land inside his own court.

Song Hanrun had been roofed by a solo block. The training camp erupted in celebration, while Ning Zhou worried about Hanrun’s mentality, “Shake it off! Next one!”

But Song Hanrun wasn’t rattled. He muttered under his breath, “Just lost the rhythm when the first set got messy…”

Ning Zhou smiled in relief and didn’t press further. The Seven had failed to convert their first attack and were still on serve-receive.

Ning Yang widened his passing coverage, even snatching a first pass away from Yu Bai, keeping it up around the three-meter line. Even though the pass wasn’t perfect, the training camp’s middle blocker still glued himself to Nie Feiang, ignoring positions 2 and 4 entirely…

Ning Zhou took this in, a strange feeling stirring—If the middle blocker gave up helping on the wings… what were they planning?

His mind raced. He tested it again—another back set to Song Hanrun.

Hanrun approached, jumped, snapped his wrist, just as in practice—And hit straight into the opposing blocker’s arms.

The ball shot straight down. Too fast for Ning Yang to cover—another roof.

Two straight solo blocks.

The training camp’s momentum surged. The blocker who scored twice in a row was having the highlight of his career, leaping in celebration—if not for the risk of a yellow card, he might have ripped off his jersey and twirled it.

Compared to that, Song Hanrun’s face was pale, his old hunching habit creeping back…

If the setter’s toss gives the spiker wings to fight above the net, then blocking is the sharpest blade to break those wings.

When a spiker gets stuffed, fear creeps in: I can’t score, I’m dragging the team down, don’t set me again…

“…Run. Song Hanrun!”

Snapped out of his downward spiral, Hanrun looked toward Ning Zhou, flinching, “I can’t blame anyone… but myself.”

Ning Zhou’s gaze was firm and sharp. Under it, Hanrun could hardly lift his head, his freckles twitching—He was about to be abandoned.

Just like with those other setters before. How could a player like him—always losing the key points—even exist on a volleyball court…?

He hated himself for being over two meters tall. He just wanted to fold into a scrap of paper and slip into a crack in the floor, somewhere he’d never be asked to spike again.

“I’m really sorry… Maybe sub me out—ah right, we can’t do substitutions… Then at least stop setting position 2…”

“Calm down!”

Ning Zhou raised his hand, waving it in front of Hanrun to break his spiral, “Song Hanrun, just now their solo blocker hugged the antenna, shutting off your straight shot. Every other angle was wide open. Didn’t you notice?”

Hanrun, caught by his tone, steadied himself slightly, murmuring like a mosquito, “I noticed, but…”

The court was noisy, so Ning Zhou leaned closer, “But what?”

“I can’t hit cross-court.”

“…?”

Ning Zhou froze. For any spiker, the natural swing is cross-court. To hit down the line, you need timing, angle, and wrist control—it’s much harder.

Beginners always learn cross-court first, then down the line. Even in pro leagues, plenty of spikers can’t consistently manage line shots.

So why was Hanrun backwards!?

Ning Zhou frowned deeply, “That doesn’t make sense. In practice, I’ve seen you hit cross-court.”

Hanrun’s voice was weak, “Yeah… in practice, sure. But in real matches, I can only hit line…”

Ning Zhou, “…”

It was eerily familiar. Just like how he himself couldn’t dive-roll properly in matches. Hanrun peeked timidly at the net, pointing at the blocker who’d stuffed him twice, “He knows about my problem. Back in the domestic league, he blocked me a lot. The training camp coach knows too.”

“So it’s just me who didn’t get the memo, huh…”

Hanrun’s mouth tightened, about to apologize again, but Ning Zhou raised a hand to stop him, “Song Hanrun, this one’s on me. As your training partner, I didn’t even know such an important detail. That makes me an unqualified setter.”

Song Hanrun was stunned. After confirming several times that Ning Zhou wasn’t angry, he finally dared to ask, “Next… you’ll still set to me?”

“Of course! Our team can’t afford to lose another attacking option.” Ning Zhou’s eyes darted as he beckoned with a few fingers. “Lower your head, bring your ear closer…”