I Really Am Just a Substitute – CH35

Chapter 35

On the bench, Ning Zhou watched anxiously.

Abu’s blocking was like a steel wall—if you couldn’t shake him off, there was no way to crack T Country’s defense.

China’s hitters were losing confidence…

“Ning Zhou!”

Snapped out of his thoughts, Ning Zhou turned to see an assistant coach leaning close. “We might make a substitution next set. Be ready!”

Other bench players quickly gathered around, whispering, “Who’s getting subbed?”

“They called Zhou Zhou—it must be him.”

“What’s the point of a sub in this situation? Whoever goes on is gonna get blamed…”

“Quiet!” the assistant coach barked. “All of you, get ready!”

“?”

Without further explanation, the assistant walked away, leaving the bench buzzing with speculation.

“What’s going on? Is this like the Khan summoning his troops?”

*

After the first set, the starters returned to the bench, their expressions heavy, weighed down by frustration.

And it wasn’t just their mental state at issue…

During the second half of the set, Shao Qiu had been setting faster and harder, changing the rhythm from what they were used to in training. The hitters had burned through their stamina, muscles already aching.

Coach Luo stayed silent at first, letting them rehydrate and catch their breath.

“You all know it yourselves—” he finally said slowly, “with your current condition, if you keep going like this, you’ll collapse sooner or later.”

The players sat in tense silence…

Noticing the atmosphere, Ning Xu and Assistant Coach Hou approached. “Coach Luo, what’s happening?”

“We’re rotating the lineup next set.”

Coach Luo waved to the assistant responsible for substitutions. “Go call them over.”

“Them?” Ning Xu blinked. “How many are you switching?”

“Everyone,” Coach Luo replied flatly.

Ning Xu, Assistant Hou, and the starters: What!?

Ning Xu stammered, “None of the bench players have warmed up in-game yet. Wouldn’t it be better to rotate them in gradually?”

Coach Luo thought for a moment before making a change. “Ning Yang stays on the court. Keep him to secure the first pass.”

“What? That’s basically a full lineup change!” Assistant Coach Hou’s hands trembled. “Coach Luo, this is a VNL ‘do-or-die’ match. You can’t be joking!”

“The match is secondary. The players’ health comes first. What they need now is rest. Once they’ve recovered, they can perform better when they return.”

Assistant Coach Hou argued, “But what if there is no ‘later’? The substitutes might lose in no time!”

Coach Luo fixed him with a firm stare, leaving no room for debate.

“You have to trust our players.”

At that moment, the substitutes on the bench started walking over.

Yu Bai glanced at the bench players and suddenly volunteered. “Coach, I can keep playing. I can handle a full match.”

He was barely sweating, completely out of sync with the exhausted starters.

“I know you’ve been saving your energy, but—” Coach Luo’s tone turned serious. “Mental fatigue is also—”

“?” Yu Bai’s spirit was still bright, his eyes shining even more than before the match.

He looked utterly unfazed by losing the first set, by being blocked, or by provocation.

Coach Luo was speechless. “Uh… fine.”

“Coach, I also request to play the second set!”

Coach Luo turned in surprise. The one who spoke was Chen Wenyao—the quiet, never-competitive type.

Rolling up his sleeve to reveal deep red cupping marks on his shoulder, Chen said casually, “My shoulder feels especially light today. I want to move it around more.”

“Bzz—”

Before Coach Luo could reply, Chen Wenyao was already stepping back onto the court with the sound of the buzzer.

The break ended. The second set of the China vs. Team T match was about to begin!

To everyone’s shock, Team China had switched to an almost entirely new lineup:

Outside hitters: Yu Bai, Xu Zichang

Middle blockers: Chen Wenyao, Nie Feiang

Libero: Ning Yang

And for setter—

“Stop trembling, it’s time to go!”

Ning Zhou dragged opposite hitter Song Hanrun to fill the last two positions on court.

The moment he stepped onto the court, Song Hanrun’s nerves scattered. His soul felt like it was flying out of his body.

“What do I do… this is such a critical moment. How can they put me in at such a time…”

Ning Zhou ignored his protests, half-pulling and half-dragging him onto the court. “Let’s go, let’s go! We get to play now! Being healthy and able to stand on the court—what could be happier for an athlete?”

Song Hanrun muttered under his breath, barely audible. “…Just, uh, please don’t set to me.”Comments on the live stream:

[The tallest middle blocker has cupping marks all over his shoulder!]

[Being an athlete is so tough. Watch rationally, don’t be toxic.]

[Ning Zhou!!!]

[Unbelievable! Good thing I didn’t exit the live room—recording now, instant highlight material!]

[Not exaggerating—I just screamed.]

[So this is what the opposite hitter surnamed Song Hanrun looks like… and now the “wasted plane ticket” duo are on screen together. /doge/]

The camera crew was on point. They panned across each new player, then focused on Ning Zhou’s strikingly good looks. Full body shot, half body shot, close-up. In just a few seconds on court, Ning Zhou’s debut as the team’s setter was immortalized in crisp HD frames.

More live comments:

[My fingers are numb from taking screenshots—does Ning Zhou even have a bad angle?]

[He changed skins today! Miracle Zhou!]

[I got into the fandom when he wore long knee pads… now I’m crying over his short ones…]

[Why do some players not wear knee pads? Aren’t they essential?]

[In men’s volleyball, some wear them for style. Maybe Ning Zhou’s just going for a look.]

[No way—he’s the last person to have an “idol burden.” He even showed up to a variety show wearing a puffer jacket. /laugh cry/]

[In reality, knee pad preferences differ between men’s and women’s teams. Women favor high-protection knee pads due to their rolling digs to protect their chests, while men, who usually dive instead, prioritize comfort and flexibility—or skip knee pads entirely.]

“Pop!”

Ning Zhou adjusted his knee pad, sliding his finger inside its edge. When he pulled it out, it made a faint popping sound.

The comment section went eerily silent for a beat.

Ning Yang leaned over, blocking the camera view. “What are you doing, Zhou Zhou?”

“My knee just got a bit itchy…”

“Beep—”

The referee, checking jersey numbers, blew the whistle and signaled Ning Yang to get back to his position.

Ning Zhou flicked his brother’s forehead. “Don’t wander around. What if you get a yellow card?”

Chastened, Ning Yang shuffled back to his libero zone, while the referee went to warn Nie Feiang and Xu Zichang.

Ning Zhou sighed inwardly. This batch of subs is hard to manage…

With Du Jun absent, Ning Zhou found himself playing both the “dad” and “mom” of the team, corralling Nie Feiang and Xu Zichang.

“You two, save it for after the match!”

Xu Zichang, completely unbothered, waved at every camera, announcing, “I’m on TV!”

Normally, Nie Feiang would clown around with him, but today, strangely, he was tense, hunched over, clearly anxious.

Ning Zhou poked him. “Nie Feiang, don’t tell me you’re nervous?”

Nie Feiang’s lips moved, but he didn’t deny it. “…Zhou Zhou… even the starters couldn’t handle Team T. Why did Coach put us in?”

Ning Zhou thought for a moment.

“If we can win, great. If not, at least we need to bring the momentum back for the next set!”

“!?”

Nie Feiang silently screamed: Where does he get that confidence from?!

On the other side, Team T’s bench was buzzing with chatter.

The assistant coach wiped the cold sweat dripping down his chin. “C-Chin… China’s team… are they crazy?”

The head coach kept a calm face, though his heart was uneasy. “Don’t panic. Bringing in so many substitutes just means they want to let their main players rest a bit.”

“Really…” The assistant coach sounded unconvinced. “But what if this is their hidden strategy, one they’ve been keeping secret until now…”

“Impossible. Absolutely impossible!”

The head coach denied it flatly, wiping away nonexistent sweat. “They’ve definitely given up on the second set.”

He cleared his throat deliberately.

Abu signaling on the court: Coach, what should we do?

The coach gestured back: No changes — play the same way. How we crushed their starters in the first set, we’ll crush their subs in the second.

Abu nodded, letting his gaze sweep over the China players now stepping onto the court, recalling their profiles one by one — except for…

Ning Zhou and Song Hanrun.

Beep—With that dramatic substitution, the second set began.

Tong Rong narrated in real time, “With a new set, the serve switches over, so Team T will serve first — we’ve got the opening attack opportunity!”

Zhang Kang chimed in, “Yes, the first few points in this set are crucial — we need a strong start!”

[Listen to Coach Zhang — the start is everything!]

[The young libero with the steady reception hasn’t been subbed out. As long as the first pass is good, scoring is easy!]

[No worries! Even with a two-point attack setup, Yu Bai is in the front row. Even if Ning Zhou is weak, he can still set him up for a point, right?]

[Flower vase, don’t you dare mess this up… /nervous/]

Amid the anxious live chat, Team T’s serve shot across to China’s side.

The ball flew toward Xu Zichang’s reception zone. His eyes lit up with excitement.

Even before his arms touched the ball, he was already imagining how to celebrate after a perfect pass…

“Uh, sorry, shanked it!” Reality hit hard — the pass went wild.

From the side, Ning Yang glared at him, furious: Don’t you dare say you learned passing from me!

Xu Zichang shrank back, too intimidated to brag again.

The first pass was off, but still salvageable.

“I’ll adjust!” Ning Zhou sprinted toward the landing spot — and ran straight into a wall.

Nie Feiang stood frozen under the ball, looking unsure whether he should take it.

Lost in his own world, he ignored Ning Zhou’s call until — bam — they collided. His body tilted, and the ball slipped right through his hands, rolling away mockingly.

Beep—

The referee signaled a double-touch violation on Nie Feiang, awarding the point to Team T.

0:1

[Speechless. Gave Team T a free point.]

[Subs will be subs — can’t even communicate properly.]

[Did the middle blocker and Ning Zhou just meet today? How can they collide like that… /sweats/]

[What’s that big lug doing? Obviously the setter should adjust that ball — don’t go up without thinking!]

Hearing the whistle, Nie Feiang finally realized his rookie mistake, shrinking his neck like a turtle.

“I yelled so loud, how did you not hear me?” Ning Zhou frowned. “You want to be the setter today or something?”

Nie Feiang pointed at himself in guilt. “Sorry, Zhou Zhou…”

Ning Yang leapt up and twisted Nie Feiang’s ear. “Listen to court calls properly!”

“Ow ow ow!” Nie Feiang howled in pain.

Xu Zichang snickered, wagging his finger. “Hesitation leads to defeat!”

Ning Yang instantly darted over and yanked Xu Zichang’s ear too. “And you! One more distracted reception and you’re expelled from my training!”

Now two voices were crying in unison…

“Enough.” Ning Zhou clapped his hands. “Focus on the next point!”

Everyone hurried back to position.

Nie Feiang had just exhaled in relief when a low warning came from behind, “Don’t fight for the ball.”

Cold sweat broke out down his spine. Slowly, inch by inch, he turned around —

Yu Bai was staring at him with an icy gaze, then silently returned to the backcourt to receive.

Nie Feiang: …trembling.jpg

That guy’s presence is lethal…

Beep—

Second serve. Team T sent a tricky ball skimming close to the sideline — right into Yu Bai’s reception area.

As the ball came, Yu Bai hesitated, unsure if it was in or out…

“Take it!”

Ning Yang and Ning Zhou shouted in unison, helping him judge.

One libero and one setter — Yu Bai didn’t dare doubt their spatial awareness. He immediately adjusted to receive.

But in men’s volleyball, the ball is lightning-fast. He couldn’t reach the landing spot in time — so he dove and scooped it with one arm.

[One-handed pass!? /jaw drop/]

[No technique, pure instinct — mad respect! /salute/]

[Uh-oh, that pass is going straight back to the other side…]

[Better than losing the point outright — but yeah, buzzcut boy’s passing is definitely the weak link.]

The ball arced back over to Team T’s court. They quickly set up a fast attack, sending it to Abu.

Abu’s hands were strong on the block but his spikes lacked force — fast, but not heavy.

The ball dropped shallowly.

In the front row, Ning Zhou didn’t even need to roll to absorb the impact; he calmly received it.

“Great dig!” Tong Rong praised. “Another sharp defense from Ning Zhou… but he’s the setter right now. If the setter takes the first ball, what happens next?”

Zhang Kang explained, “If the pass is good, the hitter can spike right away. If it needs adjusting, whoever the ball goes to takes over as the temporary setter to run the play.”

Tong Rong traced the ball’s path and brightened, “Ning Zhou’s dig is perfect — it’s heading right over the middle blocker. The middle can go for the spike!”

The audience looked expectantly at the outside hitter—

Nie Feiang: “Aba…”

Nie Feiang had only one thought in his head: Don’t steal the ball!

When he saw the ball falling from above, he jolted and stepped aside, “Zhou Zhou!”

Ning Zhou, who had just finished defending, “Huh?”

Nie Feiang and Ning Zhou locked eyes in a melodramatic “eternal gaze”…

The volleyball dropped between them and hit the floor.

In dead silence, the head referee stared at the ball for a few seconds before awarding another point to Team T.

0:2

Ning Yang delivered a flying kick to wake Nie Feiang up, “Go take a nap off the court already!”

“Ow! That hurts!” Nie Feiang protested indignantly. “Zhou Zhou, why were you just looking at me instead of taking the ball?”

Ning Zhou took a deep breath, “I was the one who received the first touch.”

“…?” Nie Feiang’s brain finally processed the situation. He punched himself in the head. “Damn, I’m such an idiot!”

The rest of the team also kicked him. “Snap out of it!”

[I thought the pretty face would be the weak link, but looks like someone else is worse. /fists clenched/]

[I want every bit of information on this big oaf within three seconds!]

[Here you go, boss: Nie Feiang, 23 years old, 205 cm, first time selected for the national team this year, played a few matches at the Asian Championship.]

[Can the volleyball association stop picking players based only on height? Brainless is worse than short!]

[Did you notice? That opposite hitter surnamed Song Hanrun is basically invisible out there…]

[Wow, you’re right. I forgot he was even on the court. Zero presence—kinda tragic.]

On the court, Abu made no effort to hide his amusement at Nie Feiang’s two blunders, laughing loudly.

Pointing straight at Nie Feiang, he doubled over in laughter—

Nie Feiang jumped in frustration and shouted through the net: “What the hell are you laughing at?!”

Abu shot back something in his own language.

It was like two dogs barking from opposite sides of a fence, the argument getting louder and louder.

They might not share a language, but there was no communication barrier at all…

Ning Yang and the others each gave Nie Feiang another kick: “Shut up! You’ve got no right to be picking fights right now!”

“Haha!” Team T’s bench erupted into laughter.

The head coach shook his head with a smirk. “See? Young players just can’t keep their composure. Now they’re falling apart.”

The assistant coach tossed a stack of papers aside. “Coach, I’ll get in touch with the reporters. They’ll want to interview you right after the match!”

The head coach, barely containing his glee, “Guess I’ll have to start preparing a speech for making it into the Top 16…”

In stark contrast, the atmosphere on China’s bench was subdued.

Coach Luo, usually smiling kindly, had toned it down, arms crossed in silence.

Assistant Coach Hou leaned over. “Coach Luo, should we sub them back out? At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before they collapse completely…”

“No need.”

Ning Xu also chimed in. “We’re dropping points too fast. Should we call a timeout to help them reset their rhythm?”

The reply was the same two words, “No need.”

“…”

Ning Xu glanced worriedly at the court, then noticed a small detail—

Coach Luo’s arms were crossed, his fingers subtly rubbing the sleeve of his shirt, and the faint upward curve of his lips was… intriguing.

Suddenly, Ning Xu understood—He was testing them.

The reason for the mass substitution wasn’t just to give the starting players rest.

He was using the second set as a gamble, betting that there was untapped potential among the bench players.

If he won, they’d have more tactical flexibility for future matches; if he lost, they’d sacrifice the second set and overhaul the bench lineup after the VNL.

Team T was ranked slightly higher than China. Even if they lost this match, it wouldn’t cost them too many ranking points.

No matter how you looked at it, the potential reward outweighed the risk.

As Ning Xu thought it through, goosebumps prickled up his arms—No wonder this man was the head coach of the national team. Terrifying…Kids, you’d better hold it together!

“Uh…”

In the commentary booth, Tong Rong cast an awkward look at Zhang Kang. “Not a good start to the second set—they had the first attack in hand but still fell behind 0–2.”

Zhang Kang’s eyelid twitched, but he calmly corrected himself: “It’s fine. The start doesn’t matter—it’s about endurance.”

Tong Rong pursed his lips. “You’re right…”

[Teacher Zhang, that’s not what you said earlier. /doge/]

[Fresh meme alert: ‘Must nail the opening.gif’]

[It’s funny, but I’m not laughing. Looks like this set will be even worse than the first…]

[Lower your expectations, folks. These are just the substitutes.]

On the court, the referee didn’t immediately whistle to resume play.

Yu Bai, who had received the serve, and Ning Zhou, who had gone for the defense, both hit the floor, leaving sweat patches behind.

Sweat on the floor could cause players to slip easily. At the referee’s signal, staff came out to wipe the floor. During that brief pause, Ning Zhou gathered his teammates.

“I think you guys are too tense,” Ning Zhou said bluntly.

Song Hanrun looked terrified. “Who wouldn’t be nervous in a match like this…”

“Preach!” Nie Feiang clapped him on the shoulder in solidarity. “Brother, I’ll never call you a coward again.”

Song Hanrun’s voice pitched higher in outrage, “Did you just call me a coward? Other than ‘the guy who never seizes opportunities,’ I don’t need another nickname!”

“Dude, that nickname is way too long…”

Ning Yang shoved between them to cut off the banter. “Focus, guys. Be serious.”

Ning Zhou chuckled. “Maybe you’re still hung up on the first set…

We lost that set because of our offense. Scoring past their middle blocker is tougher than against any opponent we’ve faced so far.”

Their little circle fell silent.

They all knew he was right— the pressure from that powerful block was heavier than they had imagined.

During training, they could give 100%, but now they couldn’t even unleash half of that…

“See? The moment I mention blocking, all your smiles vanish.”

Ning Zhou smiled gently. The stadium lights above were bright, their glow shattered into fragments in his eyes — soft yet resolute.

“Don’t carry the entire offense on your own shoulders. Let me share some of that burden.”

In a volleyball team, the one best at lifting the mood isn’t the veteran or the experienced captain — it’s the setter. Even if there are exceptions, a setter’s unique charm ties the team together. Most volleyball players would agree with this.

As soon as Ning Zhou spoke, everyone’s expressions shifted…

Yu Bai, in particular, seemed deeply moved. His gaze wavered violently, stunned in place for a long moment…

The staff cleaning the court had already left, and the referee signaled for Team China to take their positions.

“In any case, let’s grab that first point!” Ning Zhou placed one hand in the center of the huddle. “Remember our chant?”

The players exchanged knowing smiles, stacking their hands together—

“Team China, let’s go!”

“Roooar~”

It was hard to imagine six tall, muscular athletes dragging out the final syllable like they were being playful.

The audience burst into warm laughter, and the livestream chat flooded with [hhh]…

Across the court, Team T’s players exchanged bewildered looks —Had Team China lost their minds?

Even Team T’s head coach was stunned. Just moments ago, Team China seemed at odds with each other — how had their atmosphere warmed up so suddenly?

“Beeeep—”

Players in position, whistle blown, and the six members of Team China exuded a sharp, renewed energy. Team T’s third consecutive serve avoided Yu Bai again, sending the ball toward Xu Zichang’s receiving zone.

Xu Zichang’s eyes never left the ball. Tracking its path, he received it cleanly.

A perfect first pass!

Across the net, Abu quickly adjusted, preparing for a synchronized block, estimating where Ning Zhou would set the ball…

Abu had an excellent memory. He remembered every piece of information he had studied.

Team China’s backup setter had limited data available. The only note on him was—Ning Zhou never attempts second-touch attacks. He’s a pure setter.

Abu shifted his position slightly away from Ning Zhou, abandoning the possibility of a second-touch block, ready to move and cover another attack lane…

What he didn’t know was that every one of his movements was within Ning Zhou’s field of vision.