Zheng Xian moved quickly. That very night, before the sky had fully darkened, a Bombardier Global Express took off from the airport, soared over the river mouth, and headed east.
In the spacious cabin, Xiang Qian lounged comfortably on the sofa with his arms spread wide while several young, beautiful flight attendants with distinctly Western features attended to him attentively.
Unlike the last time, when he had been dealing with outsiders from the Special Task Force, right now there was only one young, wealthy, and womanizing boss in the cabin. Whether intentionally or not, the flight attendants' every gesture carried an extra hint of allure and anticipation.
The chief flight attendant standing beside Xiang Qian smiled brightly. She was tall and slender, with golden-red hair neatly tied into a bun. Her crisp, well-fitted uniform outlined her graceful figure.
Xiang Qian's gaze roamed up and down the curves of the chief flight attendant's figure before he finally asked, "I remember sending you to the United States for training at the beginning of the year. Since you came back, I haven't had a chance to assess how well you did."
"Ah, yes, sir." The chief flight attendant's gaze flickered strangely. "Would you like me to gather the others so we can give you a demonstration?"
"Of course." Xiang Qian sounded even less pleased. "I spent a fortune on that school. It trained private flight attendants for Tony Stark, with British etiquette lessons, bartenders from France's wine country, and, of course, memorable music, DJ, and dance training."
"You wouldn't want all that money to go to waste, would you?" Xiang Qian teased with a stern expression. "I might have to dock your pay."
"Of course not, sir..." Under his gaze, the chief flight attendant seemed at a loss.
Xiang Qian nodded in satisfaction and casually pointed. "Go get everyone. Oh, and turn on the stage lights at the bar first. I spent a lot of money having those installed."
"Yes, sir." The chief flight attendant lowered her head and tucked back a loose strand of hair before hurrying toward the bar. But when she glanced around, she saw only a dozen neatly arranged champagne flutes. There was no lighting control panel anywhere.
"Oh, can't find it? For the chief flight attendant, you're not doing a very good job. Or is that face of yours the only thing you have going for you?"
Hearing Xiang Qian's unrestrained laughter behind her, the chief flight attendant immediately understood. She rolled her eyes and turned back to face him, her shoulders slumping. "When did you figure it out?"
"When you welcomed me at the boarding stairs." Xiang Qian tapped the corner of his eye. "My ability to sense mental energy is nowhere near as good as the Professor's or Jean's. I can't do telepathy, but it's enough to recognize someone I know. And there's this, too..."
Xiang Qian raised his wrist. He wore a bracelet resembling an electronic watch, and a red arrow on its LCD screen pointed straight at the chief flight attendant. "A Mutant Gene Detector. Doctor Trask may have been sent to prison by you back then, but his work has already spread across the world."
Mystique sighed helplessly, reached up, and let her neat bun fall apart. She loosened the collar of her tight uniform, then sauntered over to the sofa and swung a leg over Xiang Qian, settling into his lap. Tall and statuesque, she straightened and looked down at him.
The other flight attendants said nothing, tactfully withdrawing to other parts of the cabin.
Xiang Qian placed his hands on her rounded thighs and gently stroked them. "May I ask where the beautiful chief flight attendant I hired at such expense has gone?"
"She's at home asleep. She'll probably sleep for another ten hours or so." Her voice began with the original chief flight attendant's coquettish sweetness, but by the end, it had taken on a cool, steely edge.
Under Xiang Qian's gaze, the beautiful chief flight attendant with her flame-red lips transformed into a blue, elfin face. Her golden-red hair turned a more vivid shade of fiery red, and fine scales covered her cheeks.
"I have a question for you, too. Has Charles come to see you? About Worthington Industries?" Mystique whispered in Xiang Qian's ear, her moist, warm breath seeming to seep straight into his mind.
Xiang Qian's hand had already wandered to her slender waist. "Obviously. I just got word that Magneto is preparing to make a major move. The Professor wants to calm things down as quickly as possible and avoid too much bloodshed, so he can't get around me, a major shareholder in Worthington Industries. Compared to Magneto, who believes in violence, the Professor is more like an idealistic politician."
After only a few words about business, Xiang Qian's attention wandered elsewhere. "I remember that when you used to disguise yourself, you'd turn your scales into clothes so you could change outfits whenever you wanted. But today... are you wearing my chief flight attendant's clothes?"
"Mmm..." Mystique seemed to enjoy being in his arms, pressing against him like a boneless snake. "The chief flight attendant was ambitious and prepared a lot for work. For example, a set of black, sheer lingerie... Who will you help, Charles or Erik?"
With a beauty in his arms, Xiang Qian's gaze lowered.
"I won't help either of them. Magneto's violence will certainly breed more hatred, but the Professor's goals are too idealistic. Now that the Mutant Serum exists, no government will tolerate it disappearing or falling under mutant control. And does that lingerie fit you, too?"
"Have you forgotten? I can make anything fit." Mystique murmured dreamily in his ear. "Just so we're clear, I can help you find out what Erik is planning, but... will your plan lead to something even worse? I'm worried. Those ten peaceful years were so nice. I wish they could have lasted."
Xiang Qian wrapped his arms around Mystique's waist and pulled her closer. Her intoxicating feminine scent enveloped him.
"Don't worry. I've always preferred cooperation and mutual trust with mutants. The Professor and I can certainly cooperate to some extent. Most importantly, I promised you that I wouldn't deliberately hurt either the Professor or Magneto..."
Mystique giggled and slapped Xiang Qian's hand as it traveled up her thigh. "Did you forget that you shot and wounded Erik? ...I think black looks better against fair skin." The air rippled before her eyes, and the blue beauty transformed into the face of a young woman many people would recognize.
"When I came through the airport, there were giant ads for this woman everywhere. Is she a movie star or a singer?"
Xiang Qian shrugged. "She does all three: movies, television, and music."
Mystique looked at Xiang Qian's complete lack of interest and quickly figured it out. "You slept with her?"
Xiang Qian didn't show the slightest embarrassment at being found out. He smiled instead.
"What about this one?" Mystique freely changed her face several times, watching Xiang Qian's expression. After a while, she pouted. "Why don't you tell me which one you haven't slept with?"
"Why wear someone else's face? I remember when we first met..." Xiang Qian watched Mystique's face as it gradually changed into the familiar features of a blue-eyed blonde—the ordinary human face she used when she wasn't disguised as someone else.
"Still so young and beautiful." Xiang Qian stroked her fair cheek.
Mystique looked at him with an enigmatic smile. "Young? I'm only a little younger than Charles. I'm old enough to be your mother."
Xiang Qian laughed heartily, unconcerned. "Age differences need to be considered in context. For a life that lasts a century, a thirty-year gap is huge. But when the lifespan doubles or triples, thirty years becomes insignificant. And if someone lives even longer..."
"Is that why you don't mind that little Jean is more than ten years older than you?" Mystique asked with a hint of reproach.
Xiang Qian hurriedly shut his mouth. Mystique knew exactly what the man was scheming, but she still couldn't suppress the springlike warmth in her eyes. It was so intense it seemed ready to spill out.
"You remember, if I lose control of my consciousness, I can't maintain my shape unless I concentrate..." Mystique's breathing grew hot.
"Of course I remember."