Truth Will Out

The darkness before dawn was thick as ink. The streets were so quiet that only Li Stark's heavy breathing could be heard.

He hunched over, trying to keep his injured shoulder out of the morning wind, but with every step, tearing pain shot up his spine and into his head. His blood-soaked shirt had long since stuck to his flesh, rubbing against the wound with each movement as if thousands of fine needles were piercing it. He deliberately chose an alley lined with trash cans and rusted iron doors. The dim streetlights stretched his shadow into something twisted and broken, much like his body, which was on the verge of collapse.

After painstakingly making it downstairs to Helen Cho's building, Li braced himself against the mottled wall, his fingernails digging deeply into the peeling plaster. Looking at the stairs before him, he felt as though his legs had been filled with lead. His memories suddenly flashed back to a few hours ago: MODOK's vicious laughter in the warehouse, Wanda's scarlet magic when she lost control, and the moment Gwen's arm was grazed by a mechanical limb while covering his retreat. The scenes replayed relentlessly in his mind. He gritted his teeth and began dragging his injured leg upstairs. Every step felt like an insurmountable mountain. The pull of his wounds made his vision darken in waves, and cold sweat slid from his forehead into his eyes, stinging fiercely. "Almost there..." he muttered. His voice echoed through the empty stairwell, carrying a persistence that bordered on despair.

He had no choice. He could not let any of his family see him like this. He had calculated it already—it was early Sunday morning.

Helen Cho was still sound asleep.

The moment he pushed open the door, the familiar scent of disinfectant mixed with laundry detergent rushed toward him, yet Li's taut nerves did not relax in the slightest. Helen Cho's sneakers were neatly arranged by the entrance, reminding him that he had to be extra careful. He closed the door as quietly as possible, even softening his breathing for fear of waking anyone inside. The clock in the living room showed 3:17 a.m. He secretly rejoiced that Helen Cho should be deeply asleep by now. But the instant he took a step forward, a piercing pain flared from his shoulder. He let out a muffled groan and grabbed the shoe cabinet just to keep himself standing.

The moment the bathroom's incandescent light came on, Li saw his wretched reflection in the mirror: his face was as pale as paper, his lips completely bloodless, and cold sweat had plastered his hair to his forehead. When he shakily removed his shirt, the gruesome wounds were fully exposed beneath the light—flesh on his shoulder was torn and curled back, with metal fragments still embedded in it, while the edges had already begun to blacken; the burn on his arm formed strange purple-black patterns like some evil totem, and blisters of varying sizes bulged across the surface of his skin. He drew in a breath and rummaged through the first-aid kit for alcohol and cotton swabs, but his fingers stopped the moment they touched the bottle.

His memories uncontrollably returned to his childhood. It had also been late at night, and he had also been injured. Back then, he could knock on Helen Cho's door without hesitation, and she would complain about him being naughty while carefully treating his wounds. But now... Li shook his head, forcing those memories from his mind, and unscrewed the cap of the alcohol bottle. The instant the icy liquid poured over his wound, he bit down hard on his lower lip. His body trembled violently, and a severely suppressed roar escaped from his throat.

Just as Li struggled to wrap the wound in bandages, faint footsteps came from the living room. His movements froze instantly, and his heart nearly leaped from his chest. "Li, is that you?" Helen Cho's sleepy voice carried clearly into the bathroom. Li felt as if all the blood in his body had frozen. In a panic, he grabbed the T-shirt draped nearby and pulled it on haphazardly, but accidentally tugged at his wound. Pain exploded through him, filling his vision with stars. "I... I'm fine. I'm just taking a shower." He tried to make his voice sound calm, but the trembling at the end still betrayed his nervousness.

The footsteps drew closer. Li frantically stuffed the bloodstained gauze into the trash can and covered it with tissues. The moment the door was gently pushed open, he saw Helen Cho in pink pajamas printed with little bears. The drowsiness vanished from her face the instant she saw him. Her gaze first landed on Li's paper-pale face, then swept over the corner of bloodstained gauze protruding from the trash can. Her pupils suddenly contracted.

In an instant, countless memories flooded Helen Cho's mind. The first time they had met in the laboratory, Li had worn safety goggles while intently adjusting mechanical parts, sunlight streaming through the blinds and falling over him, making him seem as though he were glowing; last month, when she had worked overtime until late at night, she had returned home to find Li clumsily cooking noodles in the kitchen, saying he wanted to surprise her; and the countless mornings when she woke to see Li writing and drawing at his desk, his draft paper filled with wildly imaginative designs. Yet now, the Li before her looked so weak that a gust of wind could knock him over, with not a trace of color in his face.

"What happened? You're hurt? Why didn't you tell me?!" Helen Cho's voice suddenly rose, choked with broken sobs. She rushed forward, her knee slamming heavily into the sink, but she did not feel it at all. As she reached out to lift Li's shirt and inspect his wound, tears had already filled her eyes, and her voice was full of terror and heartache.

Li instinctively backed away until his back pressed against the cold tiled wall. He forced out a smile uglier than crying. "I... I was just hurt by accident. I'm fine now. Aunt Helen, don't worry." To prove that he was fine, he tried to reach for a towel, but the movement was too large and pulled at his wound. A burst of agony struck him, twisting his expression as cold sweat covered his forehead again.

Helen Cho's nails dug deeply into her palms, heartache and anger tangling together. Her professional instincts as a scientist swiftly calmed her down. She forced herself to carefully examine the redness, swelling, and bleeding around the wound, assessing the risk of infection. Yet her trembling fingertips still exposed the panic in her heart. "The wound is already inflamed. It needs to be treated immediately! Do you know that burns like this can cause sepsis if they aren't handled properly? How could you be so careless with yourself?!"

As she turned to get the first-aid kit, she secretly wiped away her tears, unwilling to let Li see her vulnerability.

As Helen Cho treated Li's wounds, her movements were gentle but carried an unquestionable firmness. The instant the disinfectant touched the wound, Li's body tensed and his muscles instinctively contracted. Helen Cho was both heartbroken and furious. "It hurts? You knew it would hurt, yet you still went and took risks! If something like this happens again, you have to tell me immediately!"

Her voice was tearful, but her hands did not hesitate as she carefully cleaned the debris from his wounds. "Do you think carrying everything alone makes you look cool? Do you know how scared I am when you get hurt...?"

After bandaging his wounds, Helen Cho could no longer control her emotions and pulled Li into a tight embrace. Her tears soaked Li's shoulder, her voice full of lingering fear. "No matter what happens in the future, you have to tell me. We'll face it together, okay?" Feeling the warmth of her embrace, all the exhaustion and resentment Li had accumulated through those days of facing danger turned into tears at that moment. He nodded gently and buried his head against Helen Cho's neck. "Okay. I'll never hide anything from you again, Aunt Helen." Outside the window, the first ray of sunlight pierced the darkness and fell upon the two of them as they embraced.