A Bookstore

"Tangren Bookstore, a century-old bookstore in New York's Chinatown, was bought by a young couple twenty years ago. Seven years ago, that couple vanished without a trace, and a week later, the bookstore was inexplicably transferred out. Half of the money from the sale was donated to Howard Orphanage, and the other half was placed under the name of the couple's child, who could only withdraw a fixed amount each month until adulthood." Fury said, turning his gaze to Lu Yifang.

"I don't need you to tell me about this place—I know it far better than you do." Lu Yifang stroked the photo, his expression complicated.

"Since that's the case, I'll keep my mouth shut." Fury shrugged and tossed a set of keys to Lu Yifang.

"These are the keys to Tangren Bookstore. I imagine you can't wait to go see it. I can have Coulson drive you there." As Fury finished speaking, a knock came from the door, and Coulson stood there with a smile on his face.

"Then thanks." Lu Yifang didn't feel like talking much more; he took the keys and turned to walk toward Coulson.

"This isn't the Lu Yifang I know. You seem a bit down." Coulson, driving Lola, glanced at Lu Yifang in the passenger seat.

"Relax, I feel fine now." Lu Yifang crossed his arms, his expression calm.

"I can understand how you're feeling. In your Chinese culture, there's a phrase called 'nervousness upon nearing home.' I think that describes you right now."

"Something like that." Lu Yifang replied vaguely, his gaze fixed on the streets around them—a street both familiar and strange to him.

He had left many footprints on this street in the past. Memories opened up, and in many places, Lu Yifang seemed to glimpse a young figure. But if he tried to recall more carefully, those memories grew distant, because he was no longer a child.

Coulson finally parked the car in front of an old three-story building. It combined wood and brick construction, blending ancient Chinese style with modern architecture. On the plaque above the front door were four large characters: "Tangren Bookstore."

Lu Yifang opened the car door and slowly walked up to the steps, lost in thought. Seven years—he had finally returned, but everything had already changed.

Yet just as this thought crossed his mind, the bookstore's door suddenly trembled and was pulled open from inside.

"How?!" Seeing the open door, Lu Yifang's body jolted. Though he knew it was impossible, a flicker of hope rose in his heart—could it be...?

The door swung fully open, and a woman with long white hair stepped out. It was Storm.

"Yifang, you're finally back." Seeing Lu Yifang before her, Storm walked over happily and ruffled his hair.

"Teacher Storm, why are you here?" Pushing down the disappointment in his heart, Lu Yifang forced himself to speak cheerfully.

"I found out from the Professor that S.H.I.E.L.D. was no longer restricting your freedom, so I rushed over here. I've learned everything from the Professor. From today on, you're the only day student at the Mutant School." Storm said, glancing back at the house.

"And although this place was once your home, it's been years since anyone lived here, so we came to help you clean and tidy it up."

"Wait, 'we'?" Hearing this, Lu Yifang couldn't help but look inside the door again.

At that moment, Logan walked out, a cigar in his mouth, an apron tied around him, holding a feather duster in one hand and a rag in the other. After exchanging a glance with Lu Yifang, Logan curled his lip and quickly looked away.

"Don't get the wrong idea. Storm dragged me here. I'm just a conscripted laborer."

"Wolverine, are you done with your business?" Lu Yifang shifted the topic to ease Logan's awkwardness.

"Done." Logan took the cue and nodded.

"You just walked into the house like that?" Coulson, seeing this, walked over with a puzzled look.

"What's so strange about it? Opening this kind of old-fashioned door lock is easy." Storm shrugged.

"That's not what I mean. I mean... uh..." Coulson's voice faltered, as if he didn't know how to put it.

"You mean those guys hiding around the house watching, right?" Storm cut in, explaining with a cold smile. "We took care of them on the side."

"What?" Coulson's face changed. "What happened to them?"

"Nothing serious, just knocked out. Well, two got it a bit worse—Logan gave them a couple of claw pokes. Nothing vital, but they'd better get treated soon." As Storm spoke, Logan had already dragged out five or six unconscious men from a corner.

Noticing the others looking at him, Logan shrugged and muttered under his breath, "They shot me in the head first, so I just retaliated."

"We just taught them a little lesson. Who told them to be so sneaky?" Storm said, her gaze fixed on Coulson.

And Coulson, being sharp, knew that half of this conflict was accidental, and the other half was a warning to S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Ms. Storm, please understand, this is a necessary procedure for S.H.I.E.L.D. While I can't deny it looks like surveillance, it's also for Lu Yifang's protection. Although S.H.I.E.L.D. did its best to suppress news about Lu Yifang from the Abomination incident, some things inevitably leaked out." Coulson met Storm's gaze and explained with righteous conviction.

"And we've fully respected Lu Yifang's privacy. I can guarantee that before you entered this house, there were no listening devices or micro-cameras installed inside. These agents won't interfere with Lu Yifang's life at all. Their main duty is to help him with any inconveniences and keep suspicious people from loitering around his residence—like you two just now."

"Good to hear." Listening to Coulson's grand speech, Storm found herself unable to counter and could only say awkwardly.

"Um, can I ask a question?" As the atmosphere grew tense, Lu Yifang suddenly spoke up.

"Now that I'm a day student, if I'm late for school, can they give me a ride?"

Coulson looked at Lu Yifang with a complicated expression, paused for a moment, then slowly replied, "Uh... I think... that should be fine."