Passing By (Part 1)
Roughly speaking, the last time Zhou Zeyu and Cen Zheng met was three or four months ago. Time always flies when you're engrossed in training, and Zhou Zeyu himself didn't even realize it. By the time he realized it, he was already standing on the competition field.
She and Cen Zheng were facing off in the final round of the competition. The two teams had tied after the first four rounds, so the balance of power was back in their hands.
It's such a cliché plot. If Zhou Zeyu had lost the first four matches, she wouldn't have felt any pressure and could have just gone all out. If she had won them all, that would have been even better, as her burden would have been almost light. But this is exactly the result, a frustrating draw.
Why create such a dramatic effect? Do they have to make everyone's attention focus on her performance in this round?
Zhou Zeyu had nothing to say. She put her hands on her hips and took a sip of water. She had just spoken to Fang Xiaocan on the phone before the match. Fang Xiaocan said that she would watch the entire match on TV and even record it. If Zhou Zeyu lost badly, she would keep the record for herself. If Zhou Zeyu won big, she would immediately announce it to the world and even hold a press conference to announce that Zhou Zeyu had finally defeated the old captain Cen Zheng for the first time in nearly five years.
"Is he crazy?" Zhou Zeyu muttered to himself, gulping down water in his mouth.
If someone hadn't suddenly patted her shoulder from behind, she could have swallowed the water in her mouth with dignity. However, that's just an "if," so in reality, Zhou Zeyu choked rather rudely, coughing against the wall for a long time, and her clothes got wet in the process.
"What the hell?" she thought, turning around with a flushed face, her hand raised as if to deliver a powerful punch to Lee Sun-hee. However, her fist drooped listlessly in mid-air.
"It's you."
Cen Zheng smiled slightly at her, "You're about to go on stage, are you nervous?"
Zhou Zeyi really wanted to say that you were actually just making conversation, but she didn't say it out loud. "I'm not nervous."
“It’s been a long time since we last played a match,” Cen Zheng thought for a moment, “How long? More than two years?”
Actually, it's more than that. Zhou Zeyu really wanted to correct her. It should have been more than three years. Three years ago, Cen Zheng's physical and mental health began to suffer from one problem after another, and then he fell into a semi-retirement state, no longer participating in any competitions. He was just a figurehead in the team, serving as a spiritual symbol. So since then, the two of them have not faced each other again.
But what's the point of correcting that? Zhou Zeyu dismissed the urge to speak that he had just felt and turned his gaze toward the exit of the players' waiting room, where they should be going on the field soon.
“I never expected you to choose this club,” Cen Zheng suddenly said. “Actually, I can help you stay in Beijing. The resources in Beijing are much better than your current one.”
However, as soon as she finished speaking, Zhou Zeyu said without hesitation, "No need, I'm fine now."
"And then what? What happens when you decide you don't want to play anymore?"
Zhou Zeyu frowned slightly. She had been intentionally or unintentionally avoiding this question all along, and it was impossible to answer it in a short time.
However, as if sensing her hesitation, Cen Zheng spoke again, asking a more caring question: "How are you feeling? Have you been to the hospital for a check-up?"
"Not yet, I'm fine."
Cen Zheng nodded, "Remember not to push yourself too hard during the match later, and avoid getting injured again."
Zhou Zeyu wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, but she felt that Cen Zheng's attitude was strange again today. Unlike the last time in the hospital corridor, he seemed more dignified this time, but there was still some inexplicable emotion surging within him, and she didn't know what it was.
As Zhou Zeyu was thinking about what had happened, she didn't notice that Cen Zheng's gaze was subtly fixed on her right knee, his brows slightly furrowed, his eyes filled with unconcealed sorrow and complex emotions.
But before she could figure it out, the staff signaled for the two of them to come on stage, so she stopped overthinking and started warming up after going on stage.
But……
Zhou Zeyu frowned. She realized that Cen Zheng's condition was very strange. This could be seen from the warm-up. She was absent-minded throughout, with empty eyes, as if she had something on her mind.
What could possibly be on her mind? She's successful in her career, has a happy family, and I heard she recently bought a villa in Beijing—a villa in Beijing, no less! From Zhou Zeyu's perspective as an ordinary person, she really has nothing to worry about. Even if she loses today's match, what impact will it have on someone of her stature?
Zhou Zeyu should be the one with something on his mind, right?
Strangely, the two were completely opposite in their state. Although she couldn't be said to be completely relaxed, Zhou Zeyu was indeed not nervous today. Perhaps it was because she had accumulated too much experience in major competitions and didn't have much pressure to bear now. She could even be described as composed, much better than the person on the other side of the table who was obviously not right and whose nerves were tense, as if she was always worried about her knees.
Yes, Zhou Zeyu actually had a very frustrating time in the first game, which had almost nothing to do with the two players' strength, because she knew that neither Cen Zheng nor she had used their full strength.
Cen Zheng treated her like a fragile porcelain doll. Zhou Zeyu's expression changed as soon as she started looking at her with concern. But in fact, Zhou Zeyu had just gotten an insect in her eye. When she bent over to rub her eye, she almost scared Cen Zheng into calling for medical staff. Zhou Zeyu could only squint her eyes awkwardly and loudly say that she was fine and there was no need to make a fuss.
Has she ever done this before? Zhou Zeyu finally pried the bug out of her eye and rubbed her sore eyes.
During halftime, she couldn't stand Cen Zheng's barrage of concern any longer, so she smiled helplessly, patted her right knee, and said with a laugh.
"I'm really fine. Don't let my injury hold you back on the court. You didn't play your best in the last game."
Cen Zheng seemed to be stunned for a moment, but quickly reacted and smiled slightly as he replied, "You didn't do your best either, did you? I was just... afraid that your old injury would flare up again, just like the situation back then."
She didn't explain it clearly, but Zhou Zeyu wasn't stupid enough not to understand what she meant. "The situation at that time" was, of course, the match with Angelica, in which Zhou Zeyu fought until she was almost half dead and nearly fainted on the field.
Looking back now, Cen Zheng's concerns didn't seem unfounded. After all, Zhou Zeyu had a history of reckless behavior, so it seemed normal to be worried. But in any case... Cen Zheng went a bit too far.
Zhou Zeyu isn't three and a half years old. She knows to sleep when she's tired, eat when she's hungry, and raise her hand when she's in pain. Although she may seem a bit fragile, she's not to the point where she needs to be protected like this. She's not some rare wild animal, so there's no need to protect her so preciously.
Moreover, Cen Zheng's excessive tension made the whole match less exciting. Although Zhou Zeyu did not go in with the intention of fighting to the death, she still hoped that the two of them could have a fair and square match. As a result, Cen Zheng was holding back, which made her afraid to fight freely. Both of them were playing awkwardly.
No matter how you look at it, it was a truly unfair victory.
So, before the halftime break ended, Zhou Zeyu shook her head slightly at Cen Zheng from a distance of three or five meters. She didn't have time to explain in detail, but Cen Zheng should be able to understand.
As expected, she saw Cen Zheng look somewhat surprised, but that surprise was quickly masked. She nodded and smiled reassuringly at her.
Zhou Zeyi didn't understand what she meant. In fact, it seemed that she never really understood her. This was probably unavoidable. Cen Zheng had always been an unpredictable person, even when the two were at their closest.
But that doesn't matter anymore, because those answers she once wanted to know and the things she wanted to understand have become less important. Cen Zheng just doesn't know that Zhou Zeyu has long since stopped caring about those things.
Could this unexpected disagreement be the reason why the two parted ways?
Zhou Zeyu was unaware of this because the competition ended quickly, and she won.
After the match ended, rhythmic applause erupted from the stands. The referee announced the winner, and both athletes shook hands with the referee, greeted the audience, and left the field.
She walked down the players' tunnel with her head down, seemingly lost in thought.
"Are you alright?"
Zhou Zeyu looked up, and the moment he saw the person's face clearly, a hint of disappointment and frustration involuntarily showed in his eyes.
"Stop giving in to me." Her voice was very low, almost imperceptible.
Cen Zheng was stunned for a moment, as if something was choking him. He opened his mouth but didn't say anything.
"Winning against you like this is worse than losing."
She frowned, clearly unwilling to continue, and turned to walk down another passage.
However, Cen Zheng reached out and grabbed her wrist, his tone ambiguous, whether somber or comforting: "Why are you so sure I'm letting you win?"
"You said it yourself, that was three years ago."
Cen Zheng seemed to chuckle softly: "Three years can change a lot of things. I've become much more lax now. Xiaoyu, I'm not as good as you, and I really have nothing to say. Besides, this match isn't important to me. I know you really want this victory, and it's not easy for you to have persevered until now. You deserve it."
The bustling player tunnel was filled with people coming and going, their footsteps and conversations almost drowning out each other's words. Zhou Zeyu and Cen Zheng stood still, somewhat abruptly stopping in the crowd, silently staring into each other's eyes, as if they had both decided to remain silent at that moment.
Finally, Zhou Zeyu slowly shifted her gaze. She tried to focus on the slogans written on the wall of the passageway, but there was really nothing to see. The six characters "Courage, Perseverance, Willpower" were so pale that they were even somewhat laughable, so she simply lowered her head.
No one knew how long this silence lasted. It seemed so long that neither of them continued to stand there. Zhou Zeyu's teammates were already calling her name from outside, and Cen Zheng's coach also signaled for her to return to the team. They had to say goodbye on the spot and then go their separate ways.
This time, however, during the brief pause before their parting, Zhou Zeyu spoke.
“Cen Zheng,” she heard her own voice, “I really have less and less idea whether you’re lying to me or not.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Cen Zheng seemed stunned, a look of near-heartbreak flashing across his face. So much so that when Zhou Zeyu turned to leave, she felt a pang of pain, but she couldn't quite put her finger on where that pain came from.
Zhou Zeyu returned to the group dejectedly. Li Shanxi and the others were celebrating joyfully, their chatter almost lifting the roof off the entire venue. In this context, her silence seemed all the more strange.
She didn't think much of it; her mind was completely blank. Carrying her bag, she walked aimlessly to the front door, intending to slip out quietly with the flow of people.
Zhou Zeyu should have expected this, but perhaps she has been away from the public eye for too long and has forgotten that there are some things that can never be shaken off, such as the price of standing on the field is not just starting over.
“I didn’t mean that,” she said, trying her best to appear patient in front of the camera, enunciating each word clearly. “She is a very, very good athlete. Please don’t compare us to each other.”
So what are your plans for the future?
Here it comes again. Zhou Zeyu knew he couldn't escape this question. His displeasure was obvious. He put his hands on his hips and casually looked around: "It's not convenient to disclose at the moment. Sorry."
"Among the new generation of players, who do you think has the most potential?"
She didn't think highly of any of them. She wanted to let these greenhorns hone their basic skills first. It would be a disaster to pin her hopes on them for the future.
“I think they all have great potential.” She raised an eyebrow, quite certain that the reporter hadn’t caught on to her implied meaning, his eyes still darting around the venue.
She saw Cen Zheng. As the one who lost the decisive game, she was naturally more likely to be questioned by reporters. In the past, Zhou Zeyi would not have worried about her showing weakness in front of the media, because that was her specialty. But today was different.
Cen Zheng's face was visibly pale. She frowned tightly and rubbed her temples repeatedly, as if forcing herself to endure something. Every gesture showed that she was in terrible condition. Her usual ease had almost completely disappeared, and she looked as if she had been driven to desperation by the reporters.
Zhou Zeyu's gaze involuntarily drifted towards her. She was so distracted that even the reporters in front of her were involuntarily drawn to her gaze, looking towards Cen Zheng, who was waving his hand to refuse the reporters and quickly walking out the door.
She's gone, which is good; at least she doesn't have to deal with the media anymore.
Zhou Zeyu withdrew her gaze and forced herself back to the reporter's question. However, all she saw was the reporter's mouth opening and closing, and the sound miraculously disappeared. In fact, at that moment, it seemed that all the sounds in the world had vanished.
Before she regained consciousness, her body had already lunged forward, and she reached out and grabbed Cen Zheng's backpack strap, using almost all her strength to pull it back towards her.
Zhou Zeyu herself didn't know where she got such strength. The next second seemed to last for half a century. She could even hear the surrounding air suddenly pause, with tiny dust particles floating in the air. Cen Zheng's exclamation was accompanied by the loud thud of a heavy object hitting the ground. With a bang, the world seemed to fall silent.
The inertia caused the two of them to stumble and fall awkwardly. Zhou Zeyu felt her mind go blank and staggered uncontrollably. However, she was unable to withstand such a huge impact. The next second, her knees bent sharply, and she slammed hard onto the concrete ground with the weight of both of them.
For a few moments, when pain and numbness took over her mind, she lost all sense of where she was. But for some reason, she struggled to lift her head and look. The piece of aluminum alloy that had fallen from the sky had not hit Cen Zheng; it was only half a palm's distance away from her.
Half a palm's length, less than five centimeters in length—without this almost non-existent distance, Cen Zheng would never have existed in this world.
There was this person who was so important to her, yet she missed him in so many ways.
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