Kunlun Iron Fist Sends You His Regards

Sergeant Barnes?

Steve Rogers?

Captain America?

Why did those names sound so familiar, like he had heard them somewhere before?

But he could not remember.

It hurt. His head hurt so much!

Strange. Why did thinking about this make his head hurt?

No, he could not think.

He was here to carry out a mission!

His mission was to obtain the Darkhold, weaken S.H.I.E.L.D., and kill Agent Coulson and Agent Romanoff.

No matter what kind of enemy stood in his way, he had to take them down!

The Winter Soldier decided to ignore Old Wang. Fighting came first.

He would kill this one first, then kill someone called Ghost Rider.

However...

Old Wang suddenly pulled a sheet of paper from his clothes.

It had been folded up and crumpled into a ball.

With no other choice, Old Wang unfolded it, smoothed it flat with True Qi, and gave it a light flick.

"Catch!"

Whoosh!

The thin paper flew toward the Winter Soldier like a throwing knife.

The Winter Soldier had originally wanted to dodge. He had the vague feeling that this sheet of paper was dangerous.

But when he heard Old Wang's deep, magnetic voice, it was like hearing a ten-dollar subwoofer. For some reason, he actually reached out.

His hand left an afterimage.

And pinched the sheet of paper.

He had used his left mechanical arm. A white mark had actually been cut into its hard alloy casing, which was simply unbelievable!

It was a comic book page, uneven on one side, as though it had been torn from a book.

The Winter Soldier picked it up, took one look, and froze.

It showed a train.

A train traveling along the edge of a cliff.

The dominant color was white. Snow blanketed everything, mountains coiled like silver serpents, and plains stretched like wax elephants.

A vast expanse of pure white, clean as could be.

The Winter Soldier was instantly unhappy.

I stopped fighting for this?

"Um... the back." Old Wang was slightly embarrassed.

He had grabbed it from the old house where they had found the Darkhold.

The owner there had been a diehard Captain America fan. He even had a high-quality replica of Captain America's shield, along with piles of comic books and posters.

Old Wang had needed to use the bathroom at the time, but he had not brought any paper, so he casually grabbed a comic book.

He had not expected it to come in handy now.

It had gotten a little moldy over time, but it was still barely usable.

He had torn off several pages back then and had not used them all. Upholding the traditional Chinese virtue of thrift, Old Wang had never had the heart to throw them away.

Who would have thought they would actually be useful now!

The Winter Soldier turned it over.

It was still the same scene.

A flashy, handsome man in a humiliating uniform, holding a round shield, crouched atop the train with an anxious look on his face. One hand reached downward, as though he were trying to grab something.

Another man was falling over the cliff, his hand stretched upward, his face filled with despair.

The Winter Soldier froze.

He saw the faces of those two people.

The face above looked so familiar, as though he had seen it somewhere before.

Had it been in a dream?

Was he Brooklyn's Captain America?

The face below was even more familiar. That was himself!

Strange, blurry images flashed through his mind.

There was Captain America, himself, a beautiful and formidable woman, a proud genius scientist, and a group of very, very good comrades.

There was a short, terrifying man.

And someone even more terrifying, staring at Red Skull.

There were weapons beyond their era.

They were too fragmented to form a story.

So every page was a story.

A peculiar emotion suddenly surged into his heart.

It was nostalgia, gratitude, an absolute trust between friends, a familiarity and estrangement spanning sixty-four years.

The Winter Soldier fell into a daze, confused. For the first time, he became deeply concerned about his own past.

Who am I?

Where did I come from?

What am I supposed to do?

What is my relationship with Captain America?

His eyes grew damp, blurring his vision.

What was this?

Tears, a symbol of weakness?

No.

The Winter Soldier was a warrior. He could not shed tears!

He was no longer confused.

His mechanical arm clenched and crumpled the comic page into scraps.

The coldness returned to his face as he charged at Old Wang.

Old Wang shrugged.

He had known this would happen.

Hydra's brainwashing technology was impressive. Even Captain America meeting him face-to-face had not awakened his memories, much less a mere comic page.

Still, it should have had some effect. Maybe it would bring Hydra some unpleasant surprises?

His right hand, which had been behind his back, moved to the front.

The Winter Soldier was still the Winter Soldier. Old Wang decided to go all out.

His feet formed a figure-eight stance as he lowered himself slightly.

His right hand extended forward and his left hand remained behind.

Tiger Stance!

Tsubasa Ozora, come fight!

The slightly chubby youth moved with the stride of a dragon and the bearing of a tiger. His thick hands embraced empty space as they traced circles, every movement flowing as naturally as clouds and water.

Like Taiji, like the Eight Trigrams, like an ink painting drawn by five thousand years of history.

Like running script, yet also like cursive script.

Ink splashed freely, strokes dancing like dragons and serpents.

But it was none of those things.

This was the Drunken Master's method of blocking and dodging.

He had taken a small sip of watered-down erguotou earlier. Now he seemed drunk yet not drunk, awake yet not awake, carrying the immortal air of a sage. Thus, the Drunken Master.

In the blink of an eye, he blocked seventeen of the Winter Soldier's attacks.

Let him be strong; the breeze still swept over the hills.

Let him be fierce; the bright moon still shone upon the great river.

Old Wang shifted his feet and spun around. Then, with a sudden palm strike, True Qi surged forth with the roar of tigers, leopards, and thunder.

Fists of Fury!

Raging Thunder Break!

Bang!

The Winter Soldier was sent flying once more, his chest caving in.

That chain of attacks directly shattered his carbon-fiber uniform and broke through the super soldier's formidable physique.

Amid a rapid series of cracking sounds, his ribs snapped.

Old Wang pressed his advantage without mercy.

His steps were like the wind as he quickly closed in.

Several more punches followed.

Then several more kicks.

Rising Sun Kick!

Crane Neck Kick!

The Winter Soldier flew even farther.

He smashed straight through a wall.

Whoosh!

Old Wang curled himself into a ball and rolled forward, True Qi Burst!

In an instant, he caught up to the Winter Soldier.

The mechanical arm swung.

Old Wang sidestepped, brought his fingers together, and chopped down with the edge of his hand.

It struck the Winter Soldier's left shoulder.

Then he grabbed the Winter Soldier's mechanical arm with both hands.

And twisted sharply.

Crack!

A crisp snap came from the shoulder.

Old Wang raised his leg and kicked, Crane Neck Kick.

The Winter Soldier was sent flying once more, but that high-tech mechanical arm remained in Old Wang's arms.

The Winter Soldier climbed to his feet, about to continue attacking.

Suddenly, his steps stiffened, as though he had heard something.

Then he turned and ran.

Old Wang was about to give chase when his expression shifted and his brows rose.

One high-explosive grenade after another was thrown inside.

They were about to explode.

"Has Hydra gone insane?"

Old Wang hurriedly stopped and turned to run.

This corridor was going to collapse.

The structure above it was going to collapse.

This entire area was going to collapse.

If he did not run now, he would be buried alive!

Although Old Wang was confident he would not die, the feeling would not be pleasant. Besides...

Thinking of Black Widow kneeling in the corridor behind him, Old Wang sighed.

There was still a deadweight to deal with!

The grenades exploded.

A mass of True Qi wrapped around his body, blocking the damage.

Old Wang rolled across the ground, even making a turn midway. He soon reached Natasha, scooped her up with one hand—

Then swung her onto his shoulder.

And ran while carrying her.

Natasha felt terrible pain. Her waist hurt, her back hurt, her chest was being painfully compressed, and her lower abdomen hurt even more, as though it had been pressed against something hard.

She reached down and understood.

It was the Winter Soldier's mechanical arm. What an awkward position!

Of course, Black Widow would not blush, and it was even less likely that her heartbeat would speed up. That was not important.

What mattered was that she had survived.

Had she been rescued, or captured?

This masked man, whose age and appearance she could not make out, seemed to be using a mysterious power from the East, something called "qi"?

Natasha recalled a mission in which she had fought someone from The Hand.

The other side used qi too.

But it was very weak, nowhere near a match for him.

Compared to that person, the guy beneath him was far stronger. They weren't even in the same league.

Who the hell was this guy?

Just as she was thinking that, Old Wang stopped.

With a slight movement of his shoulder, he set Natasha down and raised an eyebrow.

"You can go."

"Remember, you owe me a favor!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a gust of wind swept past, and Old Wang had already vanished.

Natasha froze.

He's just leaving?

You're not going to capture me?

Imprison me?

Torture me?

Interrogate me?

Use all sorts of inhuman methods on me?

This isn't how it's supposed to go!

I was even planning to pry information out of you!

"What's your name?" Natasha suddenly shouted.

The instant she called out, she regretted it.

Why would he possibly tell me?

This isn't some idol drama!

Then she heard an elusive voice drifting over.

"Kunlun Iron Fist sends you his regards!"

Thanks to "I Am Nothing" for the 500 reward!