Chapter One: His Father’s Name Was Not Ma Dong

Blue Planet, the summer of 2015, Jinling.

The midsummer heat in Jinling was oppressive. Coupled with its proximity to the Yangtze River, the humidity was stifling, which is why Jinling had long been counted among the four great furnaces of the Republic. The heavy moisture in the air diminished the thermal conductivity, so while Jinling’s temperature in summer might not rank as the highest in the country, visitors from other regions often fell victim to heatstroke if they weren’t careful.

Inside the volleyball training hall of the Yangtze Sports Club, more than a dozen tall young women were exhausted after a full day’s training. Although the gym was equipped with high-powered central air conditioning, their training uniforms were drenched, some even dripping sweat from the hems of their shirts. It wasn’t the weather’s fault; rather, it was the punishing training regimen set by their head coach.

The Yangtze Sports Club was a comprehensive and large-scale athletic group, a subsidiary of the Yangtze Group— the Republic’s largest privately-owned industrial conglomerate. The club fielded teams in all three major professional ball sports domestically. While the men’s and women’s football teams were not champions, they consistently held their own in the top leagues. The men’s basketball team was a regular in the playoffs and had even clinched the championship twice. The women’s basketball team, meanwhile, was a perennial powerhouse.

Yet it was volleyball where the Yangtze Sports Club truly excelled. By 2015, their men’s team had claimed four consecutive league titles, while the women’s team had been even more dominant—since the professionalization of domestic sports in 1994, they had only missed out on the league championship five times. At one point, over half the women’s national volleyball team hailed from the Yangtze Club.

In the 2014 season, however, the Yangtze women’s volleyball team suffered an unexpected defeat in the finals, falling to a dark horse— the Beihai Rural Commercial Bank women’s team from the Beihai Special Zone.

The Beihai Special Zone had been reintegrated into the Republic only in the 1980s. In the late 1970s, the Russian Empire, mired in crisis, sold its vast Far Eastern territories to the Republic despite fierce opposition from its own National Council, seeking to preserve the royal family’s grip on power. Thus, the Republic restored the glory of bygone Han and Tang dynasties.

Centering on what was once called Lake Baikal, now known as the Beihai, the Republic established the Beihai Special Zone. After decades of development, it had become the third largest economic zone in the nation. Thanks to favorable immigration policies, the region attracted many Eastern European and Russian immigrants, transforming Beihai into a sporting powerhouse, particularly in athletics and winter sports.

Though the Beihai Rural Commercial Bank women’s team was relatively young and less affluent than many inland clubs, their players possessed extraordinary physical gifts. Their high-blocking, power-driven style felled many domestic giants the previous season.

In the wake of their defeat, Yangtze’s women’s team changed coaches at the start of 2015. Their celebrated coach, Qi Yunsheng, was dismissed, and the Russian-born Fu Sansheng took the helm.

Fu Sansheng, originally Vladimir Ratliff, adopted a Chinese name after immigrating. His name and appearance gave the impression of a kindly middle-aged uncle, but the women of the Yangtze volleyball squad knew all too well how formidable he was. Since his arrival, the players had barely enjoyed a single day of ease; the training was so intense that even the male practice partners struggled to keep up.

While the league was on summer break, the Yangtze women’s daily training only intensified.

“Mei-mei, are you heading straight home?” After training ended, the team captain, Lin Na, called out to the team’s twenty-year-old rising star.

Lin Na knew this young star’s background. Unlike the others, she didn’t live at the training base but rented accommodation nearby.

“Yes, Captain Lin, I need to hurry back. Lei-ge hasn’t eaten yet. I’ll pick up some pork rib soup for him on the way. Hehe.”

This “Mei-mei,” as Lin Na called her, had a sweet, doll-like face with deep dimples when she smiled. But paired with her six-foot-six frame, it was a combination few could carry off.

Lin Na felt a mix of disapproval and admiration at Mei-mei’s answer. Not everyone could devote themselves so selflessly to caring for a disabled man for years—while still maintaining rigorous daily training and competition.

“You’d better bring something for yourself from the base too. Remember, don’t eat anything carelessly outside. The women’s volleyball Grand Prix is coming up in September. Don’t let your mother’s efforts go to waste.”

Lin Na remembered how, two years ago, Mei-mei had missed her chance at the national team after eating something outside and failing her drug test. If not for her mother’s influence in the volleyball world, the suspension might have been much longer than six months.

Mei-mei stuck out her tongue playfully. That incident had been an accident, but her mother had scolded her terribly afterward.

“Thank you, Na-jie. I’ll be careful this time. Uh, could I trouble you for one more thing—could you help me find a reliable caretaker? Preferably a man. Once the off-season ends, we’ll have away games, and if I make the national team, I’ll be gone for training camp. I need someone trustworthy to look after Lei-ge.”

“Again? What happened to the last one? Left already? Mei-mei, honestly, you spoil that Wang fellow too much. You work yourself to the bone for him, and he just wastes away. I know he’s pitiful, but you need to think about yourself too.”

Lin Na couldn’t understand why, aside from being too tall, a girl like Mei-mei would sacrifice everything for a cripple.

“Na-jie, he’s my Lei-ge. Say what you will, but I can’t leave him. He does this to push me away, so he won’t burden me. Don’t worry about the caretaker—I’ll manage…”

As Lin Na expected, mention of the disabled man turned Mei-mei explosive, a powder keg ready to ignite.

“Alright, alright, my fault—I apologize to you and to Lei-ge, okay? Honestly, you’re not a child anymore.”

“Hehe, sorry, Na-jie. I didn’t mean to snap. Honestly, I’ve liked Lei-ge since I was little. I won’t marry anyone else, no matter what. I know he won’t let me down.”

Hearing the apology from her usually supportive captain, Mei-mei’s anger melted away as quickly as a summer storm.

“Aren’t you embarrassed? You’re not even married yet! Mei-mei, take care of yourself—don’t go too far. Wait until you win an Olympic gold before thinking about marriage, okay? Trust me, it’ll affect your performance otherwise.”

Lin Na was moved by Mei-mei’s frank declarations, but recalling the words of Mei-mei’s mother—a revered volleyball veteran—she felt compelled to keep Mei-mei grounded.

“Got it, Na-jie. I’ll still need your help with the caretaker, though. I’d better go before Coach Fu catches me for extra drills.”

The players called Fu Sansheng “Old Fu the Judge,” likening his ruthlessness to the King of Hell himself.

Carrying two buckets of rich pork rib soup from the canteen, Mei-mei hurried back to her rented room, anxious about her Lei-ge.

She’d never had many female friends, partly due to her personality, partly her height. At six or seven, she was as tall as a fifth-grader—hard for peers to relate to. From an early age, she’d clung to her equally tall Lei-ge, who doted on this somewhat scatterbrained girl.

Physically, Mei-mei was tired—the training was grueling enough, and she still had a disabled person to care for. For someone her age, it was a heavy burden. Yet the thought of Lei-ge enjoying her homemade soup filled her with happiness.

People say there’s no love or hate without reason, but when two souls connect, passion can be all-consuming.

Unlocking the door, Mei-mei was hit by a pungent, bloody smell. Startled, she noticed that Lei-ge’s bedroom door was tightly shut, with a streak of red seeping from beneath it. The buckets of soup fell from her hands.

Like a tigress, she slammed her shoulder into the door, ignoring the pain. All she could think was, “What happened to Lei-ge?”

With a final kick, she burst through the weakened door. The sight made her scalp prickle—her beloved Lei-ge lay pale by the bed, blood pooling around him, his arm dangling limply, a wound at his wrist revealing everything.

“Wang Lei, you bastard! If you die, I, Ma Dongmei, will haunt you for the rest of your life!”

By the way, Mei-mei, was your father really not named Ma Dong?

This was the fleeting thought that crossed the minds of the two Wang Leis as their souls began to merge.