Of course, Zhang Han had thought about his future.

At this stage of his life, his original plan was simple. Go to university, then either find a stable job or start a small business. Rely on his own abilities to support himself and his family.

Not necessarily rich or powerful.

Just a life without worrying about food and clothing.

But when he really thought about it, that kind of life felt… bland.

Meaningless.

Compared to that, continuing down the path of baseball felt far more appealing. His love for the sport had been growing stronger and stronger. Turning a hobby into a career was, in itself, a blessing.

More importantly, if he truly made it onto the professional path, the income wouldn’t be small.

These two thoughts clashed endlessly in his mind, like two little people arguing without pause.

The battle was fierce.

After thinking for a long time, Zhang Han still couldn’t tell which choice was more correct.

In the end, he put both options aside.

Right now, the most important thing was the present.

As a special recruit of the Seido High School Baseball Team, he had a responsibility to give his all. Even without that obligation, continuing to polish his skills was the best possible choice for his future.

Once his abilities were refined, whether he chose university or professional baseball later, those skills would only help him.

There was no doubt about continuing to practice and improve.

The real question was direction.

Should he continue as a fielder, or lean toward pitching?

A few months ago, Zhang Han wouldn’t have hesitated. He would have chosen pitching without a second thought.

After all, he had always been a pitcher.

But now, after hearing Coach Kataoka’s analysis, he had to admit it made sense.

His right-handed pitching potential was nearly exhausted. At best, he could become a rotating pitcher in high school.

As for professional baseball?

He might not even get a chance.

On the other hand, as a fielder, with his batting ability, he could carve out a place for himself. At a platform like Seido, even without Koshien, strong skills and standout performances could still attract scouts. And they were already on the brink of reaching Koshien.

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If they performed well there, entering professional baseball wouldn’t be an issue at all.

As for left-handed pitching, the Director and coaches had only said there might be hope. Whether that hope was real was still unknown.

One path was clear and stable.

The other was uncertain and risky.

How was he supposed to choose?

Exhausted, Zhang Han thought he would fall asleep the moment he touched the bed.

Instead, he tossed and turned, his mind racing. It wasn’t until the latter half of the night that he finally drifted off.

The next morning, Zhang Han overslept.

He was dragged out of bed by his seniors, Kou Shunmin and Kusunoki.

“Let me sleep a little longer…”

His eyelids felt impossibly heavy. After barely getting dressed, he almost collapsed back onto the bed.

“You were flipping around like a pancake all night,” one of them complained. “What were you even doing?”

“Don’t forget,” the other added, “you’re a key player now.”

The two seniors were clearly unhappy.

Zhang Han shrugged helplessly.

At times like this, silence was the best option. Anything he said would just make things worse. Morning practice passed with Zhang Han half-awake.

At breakfast, Miyuki walked over.

“Hey.”

“Hey, your big head.”

Zhang Han rolled his eyes irritably, abandoning his attempt to sneak in a nap.

“If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

“If not, shut up and let me rest.”

“Something bothering you?”

As expected of Miyuki.

That single sentence snapped Zhang Han fully awake.

“How did you know?”

“Do I even need to explain?” Miyuki replied casually. “You’re practically wrapped in a dark cloud.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Zhang Han rubbed his eyes subconsciously, wondering if his lack of sleep had left dark circles.

“So,” Miyuki continued, “what did the Director want with you?”

Zhang Han went silent.

If this guy ever quit baseball, he could make a living reading fortunes at a temple fair.

“How did you know the Director talked to me?”

“Hmph.”

Miyuki gave him a look that clearly said you’re an idiot, making Zhang Han grit his teeth.

“I saw it. Little Rei took you, didn’t she? Besides, if it wasn’t the Director, who else could make you look like this?”

Zhang Han set down his bowl and gave Miyuki two thumbs up.

He was genuinely impressed.

After glancing around and making sure no one was within two meters, Zhang Han told Miyuki everything—what had been discussed in the Director’s office, step by step.

When he finished, he looked at Miyuki expectantly.

This guy didn’t wear glasses for nothing.

His understanding of baseball, and his overall intelligence, were both exceptional.

Even if Zhang Han didn’t follow his advice, he wanted to hear it. Miyuki understood that Zhang Han was asking for help.

He hesitated briefly, then asked seriously, “What do you want?”

“That’s a brilliant question,” Zhang Han snapped. “If I knew the answer, would I still be suffering like this?”

“For something this big,” Miyuki said calmly, “if you don’t even have a preference, how can I, an outsider, decide for you? All I can give are suggestions. The decision itself is yours.”

“Then give me your suggestion!”

Miyuki shook his head. “I don’t have anything fancy to say. I’ll just ask you one thing.”

He looked Zhang Han straight in the eyes.

“Do you still want to stand on the mound and pitch?”

The question exploded in Zhang Han’s head.

Do you still want to be a pitcher?

“That’s a stupid question,” Zhang Han replied instantly. “Of course I do.”

It was just that, with his current talent, becoming Seido’s ace would be incredibly difficult.

Seeing his expression, Miyuki understood.

“Other people’s evaluations are just references,” he said quietly. “What matters is how you truly feel. Whatever your heart tells you—that’s what you should do.”

“But—”

“There is no ‘but.'” Miyuki cut him off. “We’re still young. We’ve got three full years of high school left. It’s not like you’re entering the pro draft tomorrow. What are you so afraid of?”

Those words struck home.

Maybe it was his personality.

Maybe it was his background.

Zhang Han always thought too far ahead, weighing everything in painstaking detail.

And because of that, he often trapped himself. In reality, many problems were simple.

It all came down to two questions.

Do I want to do it? Can I do it?

Right now, Zhang Han both wanted to do it and could do it.

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