Chapter 1: Returning Once More to the Life of a Substitute

At the end of the set, the score was neck and neck.

In the tug-of-war of a long rally, both sides desperately craved this point—

Don’t let the ball hit the ground, absolutely cannot lose!

Clinging to this one belief, Ning Zhou lunged forward in a long stride to save the ball…

The spin of the volleyball, the speed of its descent, the distance from the floor—he saw these details more clearly than ever before.

“Danger!”

“Don’t go for it!”

The voices around him blurred into the background, but Ning Zhou was oblivious. He pushed off the ground with all his might, launching forward in a graceful dive.

He stretched out his arms, the back of his hand reaching ahead.

Just a few centimeters more and he would slip his hand into the gap between ball and floor, saving the point!

“Careful—!”

Before he even touched the ball, a wave of excruciating pain surged from his fingertips, drowning him out, consuming him utterly…

“Ha—huff, huff…”

Ning Zhou woke with a start, gasping for breath, his forehead beaded with cold sweat, his entire body chilled.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d dreamed of that match…

In his effort to save the ball, he’d jammed his right hand straight into the courtside digital advertising board, instantly breaking two finger bones.

For a setter, finger injuries are nothing short of catastrophic.

Through sheer willpower, Ning Zhou underwent treatment and rehabilitation…

He tried every method, but could never regain his former form.

Still, he refused to give up his spot as the team’s substitute.

Before his fingers had fully healed, he rushed back into training.

The injury became chronic, recurring with increasing severity, until the team no longer wanted a player who’d lost his value.

Finally, when his fingers grew so numb he couldn’t even set a proper ball, the national team stripped him of his substitute status.

A lifetime as a backup, never achieving any results—Ning Zhou retired in obscurity…

He sighed softly, mourning his pitiful athletic career, and wiped the cold sweat from his brow.

“Hm?”

Why didn’t his fingers hurt? Had his nerves gone numb again?

“Hm??”

Ning Zhou focused, clenching and opening his fist. Each finger obeyed perfectly—not numb in the slightest…

He lay in bed, his gaze vacant for a moment, fixed on the bed slats above him.

“Huh???”

Bed slats? He’d clearly fallen asleep in a single bed!

“What’s with all the shouting? Don’t you want people to sleep?” A face poked over the edge of the upper bunk.

The guy above, hair wild as a bird’s nest, looked at Ning Zhou through bleary eyes.

“Your expression is terrifying. Are you okay?”

Ning Zhou stared, stunned, at the face that was both familiar and strange:

“Nie… Nie Fei’ang?”

“What’s wrong?” “Bird’s Nest” frowned in confusion.

He glanced at his phone and suddenly shot upright, banging his head on the ceiling and yelping in pain:

“Crap, I overslept!”

Hearing that familiar thump, Ning Zhou was finally certain—this big oaf could only be Nie Fei’ang!

During the national team’s grand training camp reorganization, Nie Fei’ang had been Ning Zhou’s roommate.

Later, when Nie wasn’t selected for the first team, their contact dwindled…

But that was when Ning Zhou was twenty. How was Nie Fei’ang now sleeping above him?

With his over two-meter height, Nie Fei’ang stretched his long legs, bounced once on the middle rung of the ladder, and clumsily hopped down from the top bunk.

Then, fumbling and awkward, he pulled on his volleyball gear and quick-dry pants, hopping from one leg to the other as he dressed:

“Only ten minutes left till afternoon practice! Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

His comical antics were even more chaotic than Ning Zhou’s thoughts, which actually calmed Ning Zhou down…

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Ning Zhou surveyed the room:

A calendar on the desk was marked with “Good luck at training camp” in red ink; a volleyball by the pillow had been carefully cleaned by its owner.

The bed beneath him was a custom extra-long model, designed for the men’s volleyball team’s towering heights…

Without a doubt, this was the dorm from the grand training camp.

Ning Zhou’s mind felt rusted. He shuffled over to the desk and let his fingers slide to the year marked on the calendar—

2021.

Nie Fei’ang, now dressed, glanced at the petrified Ning Zhou by the desk and gave him a sharp slap on the shoulder:

“Come on, if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for practice!

What’s up with you today? You usually head to the court early for extra drills. So even the ‘King of Overachievers’ can sleep in sometimes…”

Practically sleepwalking, Ning Zhou donned his jersey, swapped shoes, and let Nie Fei’ang drag him out of the dorm, sprinting toward the training gym…

The wind whipping past Ning Zhou’s cheeks gradually brought him back to his senses.

He felt detached from reality, as if his feet were treading on clouds, floating all the way to the gym entrance…

“Bang! Pop!”

The sound of palms slapping volleyballs rang out from inside. Standing at the entrance, Ning Zhou’s heart thudded so violently it threatened to leap from his chest—

He’d been reborn!

Back to five years ago, 2021, when he was twenty, before anything had begun…

“Why are you blocking the door?”

Nie Fei’ang gave him a shove from behind, and Ning Zhou staggered two steps forward, entering the gym.

The friction between the polished floor and his shoes sent a surge of energy through him, and his throat tightened with the urge to weep…

Nie Fei’ang was startled by the tears in his eyes:

“Y-y-you… I barely pushed you! I swear I wasn’t bullying you!”

Ning Zhou couldn’t help but laugh and cry at once. He sniffled hard and forced down his tears: “I know.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Nie Fei’ang’s gaze was full of wisdom. “Just missing one extra session—are you overachievers always so competitive?”

Ning Zhou waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine, stop guessing. Let’s get ready for practice…”

At that moment, a player rushed in at the entrance, calling out:

“The coaches are still in their meeting, everyone warm up on your own first!”

Nie Fei’ang smacked his forehead. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have rushed! Ning Zhou, want to practice some passing?”

“Sure.”

They found a spot, and Nie Fei’ang fetched a volleyball, tossing it high toward Ning Zhou.

Ning Zhou let out a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart—

Since he was twenty again, this pair of hands should be…

He spread his hands, forming the classic setting position at brow level.

Just before the ball landed, all ten fingers suddenly tensed like springs, and he sent the ball flying back.

Feeling the strength of his healthy hands, Ning Zhou trembled with excitement.

“Huh!?”

Nie Fei’ang leapt up, stretching his arms, but failed to reach the ball Ning Zhou had sent back.

It soared high and flat, arcing powerfully overhead…

Ning Zhou shrank his neck, a bit sheepish:

His fingers before the injury were even stronger than he remembered.

“Sorry, I set it a bit hard…”

Nie Fei’ang huffed as he retrieved the ball.

“Something’s off. What setter misses a basic overhead set that badly? You must have a grudge against me today. I’m not practicing with you!”

He turned away in a huff, his back full of resolve.

Ning Zhou’s lips twitched; he shrugged helplessly and sat down on the bench at the side.

Touching his face, he realized his excitement from being reborn had made him feverish…

The feel of that pass just now was incredible, so vivid it yanked him into the reality of his second life.

If he remembered right, it was the first week of the grand training camp.

The men’s volleyball team had experienced a golden generation two decades earlier.

That team pioneered many tactics, reached the Olympic semifinals twice, and achieved their greatest heights.

But glory was fleeting.

As those players retired and European teams rose, the team’s ranking slid from the world’s top five down to twentieth.

In 2020, they failed to qualify for the Olympics—labeled by the media as “the weakest squad ever.”

To rebuild, the association disbanded both national teams.

They selected promising players from the domestic league, holding a grand training camp in 2021.

Those who excelled would be selected for the national team.

In his previous life, this camp was Ning Zhou’s way into the team—his beginning as a substitute…

Back then, he was single-minded about making the national team, killing all his free time during the camp, often staying up late to train on his own.

At just 1.78 meters, he “overachieved” his way into the squad.

Now, with a second chance at life!

Ning Zhou lay serenely on the bench, cooling the back of his head—

No more overachieving!

If he worked himself sick, who would take his place? True wisdom was in taking things easy!

So what if he made the team? Wasn’t it just more suffering for his body?

A healthy body was the best gift. This time, he’d play volleyball for fun and happiness…

The helplessness after his injury, the bitterness of watching others play from the bench, the loneliness after retirement—all of it…

He never wanted to feel those again.

With this realization, the gloom that haunted Ning Zhou’s heart dissipated.

From now on, the “King of Overachievers” was gone—he’d embrace the life of a laid-back slacker!

The indoor lights shone right into Ning Zhou’s eyes. He squinted, raising a hand to block the glare.

Light filtered through his fingers, outlining their shape.

His gaze lingered on his hands, and he felt a surge of joy.

Ever since his right-hand fingers broke, they’d always been wrapped in bandages or tape.

Before matches, when the pain was unbearable, he’d ignore the doctors’ warnings and take painkillers to play, leaving his fingers swollen and numb—sometimes so swollen that both hands were visibly different in size…

“So my hands used to look this nice!”

Ning Zhou studied his hands closely. Pale skin covered faint blue veins on the backs, while thin calluses on the palms spoke of years of volleyball.

But best of all were the long, elegant fingers, trimmed nails, and strong knuckles, brimming with the power of a seasoned setter.

A small black mole dotted the inside of his right ring finger.

As he gazed at the mole in a daze, he sensed someone sit down at the other end of the bench…

It seemed Nie Fei’ang’s temper flared and faded quickly.

Amused, Ning Zhou boasted, “Done already? Look at my hands—aren’t they especially beautiful?”

That person’s burning gaze lingered on his hands for a moment before speaking:

“Y…yes.”

“…?” The voice was wrong!

Ning Zhou withdrew his hands, lifted his eyes, and was met not only by the glare of light but also a pair of deep, sharp black eyes…

“Uh, sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”

Ning Zhou quickly sat up, letting his dazed eyes adjust, and looked at the newcomer—

A close-cropped head, thick black brows, high-bridged nose, the sharp line from ear to jaw to Adam’s apple and neck.

Just sitting on the same bench, Ning Zhou sensed a beast-like intensity radiating from him…

Ning Zhou searched his memory:

Yu Bai—during the camp, a super rookie who burst onto the scene and quickly became a national team mainstay.

In every major tournament, he was the team’s top scorer—a physical specimen on par with the world’s best attackers.

But what puzzled the media was that he retired while still at his athletic peak.

Ning Zhou always felt a strange connection with him.

Because the day Yu Bai announced his retirement happened to be the day Ning Zhou was dismissed from the national team…

Unlike Ning Zhou’s quiet exit, Yu Bai was hounded by reporters, his retirement the hottest topic online.

They were simply not people from the same world…

Ning Zhou couldn’t help but sigh, nodding politely, “Hello, I’m Ning Zhou.”

Yu Bai’s expression froze for a moment, his brows furrowing, making him look especially fierce.

Ning Zhou reflexively shrank back to the edge of the bench. “Uh, you… what’s your name?”

“You don’t know me?”

“I don’t think I do… right?”

Ning Zhou’s lashes fluttered nervously, confirming that in this life, it was indeed their first meeting.

Yu Bai’s aura grew even colder. “I’m Yu Bai.”

With that, he stood up, hands in his jacket pockets, and strode away.

Leaving Ning Zhou utterly baffled…

Yu Bai wore a black athletic jacket, and with his downturned eyes, anyone could tell he was not to be provoked.

But someone was always oblivious…

“Oh, so you two insiders know each other?”

A man slightly shorter than Yu Bai was practicing passing against the wall not far from the bench.

He had long, fine brows, slightly prominent cheekbones, and though his eyes were on the ball, he was attuned to everything around him.

As Yu Bai passed behind, he let out a lazy, mocking remark…

Ning Zhou recognized him at once, surprised—

Shao Qiu, a setter.

He was one of the main setters chosen for the national team during this camp—Ning Zhou was his backup in his previous life…

Yu Bai caught the sarcastic tone, pausing in his stride. “Who are you talking about?”

“Insiders know who they are,” Shao Qiu caught the ball, turned, his high cheekbones making his disdain even more obvious. “You two—one joined after the camp started, the other can’t even break 1.80 meters. Everyone knows how you got in! I hope you both leave soon and stop lowering the national team’s standards!”

“Spouting nonsense?”

Yu Bai grabbed Shao Qiu by the collar, his arm muscles showing even through his jacket, pulling the over-1.90-meter Shao Qiu off-balance…

Were they about to fight!?

All around the gym, players paused their drills, eyes eager for drama…

“Calm down!” Ning Zhou rushed up, trying to pry them apart. “Impulse is the devil! Let’s talk it out!”

At 1.78 meters, compared to these two mountains, Ning Zhou’s intervention was only verbal…

“What’s going on here?”

A slow, middle-aged voice drifted in from the entrance—the head coach, to Ning Zhou, it was like thunder from a clear sky—

The head coach had arrived!

Causing trouble under the coach’s nose would get you kicked out immediately…

Ning Zhou swiftly adjusted his expression, forcing a calm smile.

“Coach, nothing happened, they were just introducing themselves!”

He patted both men’s arms, enunciating carefully, hinting wildly, “As long as you know each other, all’s good.”

Yu Bai, following Ning Zhou’s pull on his sleeve, let go of Shao Qiu’s collar, his face still cold. “Slander has a price. Watch your mouth.”

Shao Qiu refused to back down. “Just telling the truth. What, are you going to hit me?”

Ning Zhou: …

His efforts were as feeble as a puppy’s whimper.

The head coach, a few locks of hair artfully draped over his forehead, pondered for a moment, then actually smiled:

“What’s all this talk of fighting among athletes? The only place to settle scores is on the court. Since you have issues, let’s have a practice match now!”

“!”

The onlookers gathered, discussions growing louder…

Having failed to break up the fight, Ning Zhou slunk back to his bench, hoping to disappear and watch events unfold quietly.

But the next second, the coach’s finger pointed straight at him:

“You’re a setter, right? You join Yu Bai’s side.”

“???”

In his memory, there was never a practice match in the first week of camp!

The gossip quickly shifted focus to Ning Zhou.

On the first day of his second life, his dreams of lying low and taking it easy were—dead.