Zeng Lingxiao (Part 1)

The noise inside the venue was deafening, so loud it was a headache. Sorkov frowned, his face grim, and pushed through the crowd to pinpoint Erikev.

"What's going on?" He didn't say anything else, going straight to the point, his face so dark that Erikf instantly stopped smiling. "Who organized this? What does he want? Who sent her to participate?"

Erik stared, as if he hadn't quite grasped what he was talking about, and stammered, "What? This is just a friendly match, who wants to do anything?"

Solkov didn't waste words with him. He pushed his way through the crowd without saying a word and saw the familiar back of her head from afar, but she was facing away from him, so he couldn't see her expression.

"Sorkov?" She turned her head and bumped into him without warning, exclaiming with a mixture of surprise and delight, "You've come!"

He felt a little awkward and surprised by her overly enthusiastic attitude, so he pulled her aside and asked suspiciously, "What's going on?"

Zhou Zeyu's expression froze for a moment, a hint of embarrassment and inexplicable panic flashing across his face. He then calmly rolled up his sleeves. "It's nothing, the venue just organized a friendly match... I haven't had much to do these past few days, so I agreed."

Sorkov remained silent, carefully observing her expression until she became uncomfortable and finally spoke up obediently, "Okay, it's against Angelica."

Hearing the expected answer, Solkov snorted, gave Angelica, who was warming up across from him, and said without a doubt, "It was arranged by those idiots from the sports weekly. They're using that sponsorship excuse to blackmail you again?"

She shook her head with relief, and gently wiped her racket with her head down. "Not entirely, I thought about it later, and now that things have come to this, maybe what I need to do is not to relax or escape."

"Sorkov, I want to give it a try."

Sorkov paused, a flood of memories flashing through her mind. She had been speaking happily, but her face turned ashen the moment she saw the ping-pong table, and she couldn't help but tremble at the sound of the ping-pong ball falling. No matter how much fun she had with them at the ping-pong hall, she fell silent whenever the topic of the competition came up.

He didn't think she was in a good mental state to compete, even in a casual friendly match.

He remained silent, watching her lower her head and take deep breaths, checking the racket in her hands again and again. There were moments when tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back, her face showing a mixture of fear and determination.

"Have you made up your mind?"

“I know,” he gently patted her shoulder, signaling her to relax. Seeing that Zhou Zeyu’s stiff expression eased a little, he continued, “You were unwilling to accept losing to her, so even though you knew this friendly match wouldn’t be that simple, and even though you weren’t sure if you could win, you still agreed.”

She smiled, half self-deprecating and half bitter, "Yes, it was very presumptuous of me."

“No,” he said. “Very brave.”

Hearing the unexpected answer, Zhou Zeyu was visibly stunned and looked up at him in disbelief.

The drawn-out tone sounded somewhat deliberate, yet it also carried a hint of deeper meaning. Zhou Zeyu understood his meaning and nodded. Sorkov then handed her a bottle of water and nodded gently to her.

As the opening music played, Zhou Zeyu took a few steps forward in a daze, then hesitated and turned back. Solkov was gulping down water, with Anna and Erikev standing beside him, waving flags and shouting. The three of them, some excited and some silent, were all looking in her direction.

It seems that none of this matters, at least there will always be people supporting her.

She seems to have always overthought things, ever since she was a child. Coach Xu said she was a heavy-hearted person, and it's true. She left her hometown at a very young age and had to rely on herself for everything. Her worries accumulated, but the consequence of suppressing them was a complete collapse.

But she didn't know when it started, she was completely lost. She was pulled in a tight schedule to play in competitions, and whenever she had free time, she had to give interviews and record countless variety shows and programs. Under extreme fatigue and pressure, her consciousness was completely empty.

Even after losing the competition, during the most difficult and unbearable period, she was in a daze, shedding tears and feeling pain. However, after crying, she would stare blankly for night after night, not knowing why she was crying or what to do after crying.

He was completely listless, dazed, and lost in thought, wasting time like a walking corpse, as if it had been going on until now.

Belgrade was like a brand-new, bright, and sun-kissed cotton ball, stuffed into her body all at once. But this was nothing more than drinking poison to quench thirst; the tattered, clump-like, smelly cotton inside was still there, no matter how well it was hidden.

So she should have done it a long time ago. Although she didn't know what she was doing when she accepted the invitation, and was still afraid of everything she was about to face, she didn't seem to regret it.

Stunned, stunned, in a moment of calm and numbness, in a flash, she seemed to suddenly know what she had to do.

Go and cut open the body, and personally remove that stinky wad of cotton. Don't rely on others, don't rely on the environment, rely only on yourself.

We can only rely on ourselves.

Angelica was the best scalpel because of the failure, because she suffered that unforgettable defeat in her hands. The name Angelica was an obstacle she could never get around. Even if she ran away today, she would still regret it tomorrow.

Even though she is no longer the person she was a few years ago, she has not studied the opponent's playing style, no longer repeatedly rewinds the opponent's game videos, and doesn't even know what playing style she should use.

But she stubbornly wanted to try, whether she succeeded or failed.

After countless sleepless nights filled with anxiety and the relentless, agonizing pain of being gnawed at by ants, this opportunity appeared in a completely unexpected and hasty manner. There was no glamorous competition venue or well-prepared competitors; in this simple, even somewhat shabby, venue, she finally waited for this day.

Finally, finally...

That timely response to the reporter confirmed that she wasn't lying; the daily basic training and rehabilitation exercises, despite their extreme monotony and tedium, were endured with sheer sweat.

The title of "prodigy" was slowly forgotten over time. She no longer craved those easy flashes of inspiration; she only desired the most basic and fundamental movements.

But that's very difficult to do.

Angelica is indeed very good, but before she burst onto the scene, she was the most talented young player.

The honors, awards, and rankings she has received over the years... only when she recalls those shining moments of her history does she suddenly realize what she is truly pursuing.

Instead of wasting her time in Belgrade in a depressed mood, she wanted to return to the national team and prove herself to everyone. She knew that her glittering resume was not fleeting and that she had not fallen in that failed final.

Now, what she needs to do is play this match.

...

The cheers grew louder as they approached, seemingly piercing her eardrums and striking her brain in an instant. Zhou Zeyu's palms were sweating, and she staggered back a few steps as if all her strength had been drained. She slowly exhaled the stale, dry breath that had been trapped in her heart, and she nearly fainted.

Even as she was helped to lie down on the hospital bed in the medical room, the immense sense of unreality still enveloped her the moment the glucose was injected into her body. Then the ward door closed with a click, shutting out all the noise. She blinked and finally burst into unrestrained sobs.

Overwhelmed by emotions and an unavoidable sense of disorientation, she had never experienced such overwhelming ecstasy in her life. It wasn't enough to say that she had won the whole world; it was as if she had been given a second chance at life.

Everything was so dazzling, like a dream. She pinched her hand, her face contorted in pain, but she quickly burst into laughter. As she laughed, the hand that wasn't on the IV drip covered her eyes again.

Tears streamed slowly down her fingers, the dampness spreading across her palm like a silent comfort and forgiveness, allowing her to vent her excess emotions in complete tranquility.

She felt somewhat dazed; the match that had just ended seemed as distant as the last century. All her senses and emotions seemed to float in the air, and she closed her eyes, trying hard to recall the scene.

Her slightly rusty technique, her increasingly disordered breathing, and the throbbing pain in her heart like a pounding drum—everything was so familiar, yet she gritted her teeth and endured it all.

There's nothing to be afraid of, she told herself, repeating it over and over in an almost hypnotic way: You can't fall down. Stand here, lift your head from the desert, and stop being a coward.

Forget everything from the past, forget your successes and failures, forget your gains and losses. You are still that kid who used to spar with others in the park. You are unstoppable, and nothing can stop you again.

A beautiful backhand strike, the clean and crisp movement eliciting a low cheer. A gentle, spring-like joy slowly spread through her. The corners of her mouth turned up, and she subconsciously turned to look at the audience, but she didn't find the person she wanted to see.

The person sitting there wasn't Coach Xu in her coaching uniform. None of her coaches or teammates were there. No one would chatter and explain the tactical points to her after a point, and no one would wave their towels and cheer wildly.

They're all in Beijing, only she's here, all alone.

The moment Zhou Zeyu realized she was fighting alone, she woke up as if from a dream. The bucket of cold water was poured on her so timely. Everything that had happened flashed before her eyes like a revolving lantern, and suddenly an indescribable determination burst forth in her heart.

She clenched her teeth so tightly that her jaw ached slightly, and the veins on her right hand bulged. She leaned down and stared intently at the other person's movements, like a beast poised to pounce, waiting with barely concealed sharpness.

Then, one fatal blow.

The ball was so powerful and the angle so tricky that it seemed to contain all the strength in her body, and it was displayed nakedly without any concealment. Angelica seemed a little confused by the ball, and smiled at her with feigned ease.

"You used all your strength, didn't you?"

Yes, she used four hundred percent of her strength.

She was giving it her all to catch every ball, her footprints covering almost every inch of the court. She was leaping left and right, parrying every move. Before long, she was drenched in sweat and panting heavily.

During her break, she noticed Angelica's gaze subtly sweeping over her. She knew what the other woman was thinking; Angelica had been employing a strategy of retreating to advance, waiting for her energy to wear off.

But she was wrong. During the regular time, Zhou Zeyu did not slack off at all. Her hair was wet and stuck to her forehead, her T-shirt was soaked with sweat, and for a few moments she even felt unsteady on her feet, but she persevered.

This is the greatest victory.

After the competition, Angelica just shook her head self-deprecatingly and shook her hand sincerely, "I thought you would have regressed a lot... but you maintained it very well, which is difficult, and you did it, which is great."

Zhou Zeyu lay there, her head sinking into the soft pillow, tears streaming through her fingers, sliding down her palms and into her sleeves. She shed tears silently, savoring this moment so quietly, this hard-won moment.