Let's Get This Straight, I Won't Actually Give Out Freebies

Zheng Xian moved quickly. That same evening, before the sky had fully darkened, a Bombardier Global Express took off from the airport, streaking over the mouth of the Yangtze River as it headed east.

Inside the spacious cabin, Xiang Qian sprawled out with his arms spread wide, leaning back comfortably against the sofa. Several young, beautiful flight attendants with distinctly Western features attended to him with eager diligence.

Unlike the last time he had faced the outsiders from the Special Task Force, there was only one young, wealthy, and philandering boss in the cabin at this moment. Whether intentional or not, there was an added touch of allure and longing in every gesture the flight attendants made.

The head attendant standing beside Xiang Qian had a bright, charming smile and a slender figure. Her hair was a golden-red, tied into a neat bun, and her clean, well-fitted uniform outlined her graceful curves.

Xiang Qian's gaze traveled up and down the head attendant's silhouette for a long moment before he asked, "I recall sending you all to the United States for training at the beginning of the year. I haven't had a chance to evaluate the results since you returned, have I?"

"Ah, yes, sir." The head attendant's eyes flickered inexplicably. "Would you like me to gather them and put on a demonstration for you?"

"Of course." Xiang Qian sounded displeased. "I spent a fortune on that. That was a school that trains private jet attendants for Tony Stark, complete with British etiquette training, sommeliers from French wine regions, and, of course, those impressive music DJs and dance instructors."

"You haven't let my money go to waste, have you?" Xiang Qian teased with a feigned sternness. "I'll have to dock your pay, you know."

"Of course not, sir..." The head attendant looked flustered under his gaze.

Xiang Qian nodded in satisfaction and gestured casually. "Go call them over. Oh, and first, turn on the stage lighting at the bar. I spent a lot of money on that installation."

"Um, yes, sir." The head attendant lowered her head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and hurried toward the bar. But as she scanned the counter, she found only a dozen neatly arranged highball glasses. Where was the lighting control panel?

"Oh, can't find it? For a head flight attendant, your performance is hardly professional. Or is it that you only have the face of a head attendant?"

Hearing the unrestrained, mocking laughter from behind him, the head attendant understood immediately. She rolled her eyes, turned to face Xiang Qian, and let her shoulders slump. "When did you figure it out?"

"The moment you greeted me at the boarding stairs." Xiang Qian tapped the corner of his eye. "My sensitivity to psychic energy is far inferior to Charles or Jean, and I don't have the ability to perform telepathy, but it's enough to recognize an acquaintance. Plus, there's this..."

Xiang Qian raised his wrist, revealing a bracelet that looked like a digital watch. On its LCD screen, a red arrow pointed directly at the head attendant. "A Mutant Gene Detector. Even though Dr. Trask was sent to prison by you years ago, his research has long since spread across the world."

The head attendant let out a helpless sigh. She reached up to undo her neat bun, loosened the tight collar of her uniform, and walked toward the sofa with a swaying gait. She climbed onto Xiang Qian's lap, her tall frame looming over him as she looked down.

The other flight attendants in the cabin remained silent, tactfully retreating to other sections of the plane.

Xiang Qian rested his hands on her rounded thighs and stroked them gently. "May I ask, where is the beautiful head attendant I paid so handsomely to hire?"

"Sleeping at home. She should be out for another ten hours or so." The voice began with the charming, delicate tone of the original attendant, but by the end, it had taken on a cold, steely edge.

Under Xiang Qian's gaze, the beautiful attendant with the fiery red lips shifted into a blue, elf-like face. Her golden-red hair turned a more striking, vibrant red, and thin scales covered her cheeks.

"I have a question for you, too. Has Charles come to see you? About Worthington Industries?" Mystique's red lips brushed against Xiang Qian's ear, her warm, moist breath seeming to seep into his very marrow.

Xiang Qian's hand wandered to her slender waist. "Isn't it obvious? I just received news that Magneto is preparing for a major confrontation. And since the Professor hopes to quell the unrest quickly without too much bloodshed, he can't bypass me—a major shareholder of Worthington Industries. Compared to the violence-prone Magneto, the Professor is more like an idealistic politician."

Before they could discuss business further, Xiang Qian's attention drifted elsewhere. "I remember that when you used to disguise yourself, you would use the scales on your body to manifest clothing, making it easy to change at any time. But today... are you wearing my head attendant's clothes?"

"Mmhmm..." Mystique seemed to enjoy the embrace, pressing against him like a snake without bones. "That head attendant was quite ambitious; she prepared a lot for the job. For instance, a set of black, cut-out lingerie... Who will you help, Charles or Erik?"

With the soft, fragrant woman in his arms, Xiang Qian's gaze drifted downward.

"I won't help either of them. Magneto's violence will only incite more hatred, but the Professor's goals are far too idealistic. Now that the Mutant Serum has appeared, no national government will tolerate it disappearing or being controlled by mutants. Does that lingerie fit you well, too?"

"Have you forgotten? I can make anything fit." Mystique murmured against his ear like a dream. "Let's get this straight: I can help you scout out Erik's movements, but... will your plans lead to an even worse outcome? I'm worried. If only these ten years of peace could last forever."

Xiang Qian wrapped his arms around Mystique's waist and pulled her tight, the intoxicating, heady scent of the woman filling his senses.

"Don't worry. I have always preferred to develop mutual trust and cooperation with mutants. The Professor and I can certainly achieve some level of collaboration. Most importantly, I promised you that I wouldn't take the initiative to harm either the Professor or Magneto..."

Mystique giggled and swatted at Xiang Qian's hand as it climbed up from her thigh. "Did you forget? You once shot and wounded Erik... I find that black looks better against fair skin." Before his eyes, like ripples on water, the blue elf transformed into the face of a young beauty familiar to many.

"When I entered the country, there were giant posters of this woman everywhere at the airport. Is she a movie star or a singer?"

Xiang Qian shrugged. "She does both, plus acting."

Mystique looked at Xiang Qian's disinterested expression with confusion, then quickly realized. "Have you slept with her?"

Xiang Qian felt no embarrassment at being called out; instead, he smiled happily.

"What about this one?" Mystique changed her appearance several times at will, observing Xiang Qian's reaction. After a long while, she pouted, "Why don't you tell me which one you haven't slept with?"

"Why use someone else's face? I remember when we first met..." Xiang Qian stared at Mystique's face, watching as she gradually shifted into a familiar face with blonde hair and blue eyes—the ordinary appearance she used when not disguised as someone else.

"Still so young and beautiful." Xiang Qian stroked the fair cheek before him.

Mystique looked at him with a half-smile. "Young? I'm only a little younger than Charles; I'm old enough to be your mother."

Xiang Qian laughed, completely unbothered. "Age differences are all about perspective. For a life cycle of a hundred years, a thirty-year gap is significant. But when the life cycle is doubled or tripled, a thirty-year difference becomes trivial. If the life is even longer..."

"Is that why you don't care that little Jean is over a decade older than you?" Mystique asked, not without a hint of jealousy.

Xiang Qian quickly shut his mouth. Mystique knew exactly what the man was plotting, yet she couldn't suppress the spring-like desire in her eyes, so intense it almost spilled over.

"Do you remember, if I lose focus and can't concentrate, I can't maintain my transformation..." Mystique's breath grew hot.

"Of course I remember."