Visitors and the Sandbag Theory

California's afternoon sunlight was like molten gold, thickly pouring over the terrace of the Malibu Villa. Xiao Han shifted from lying flat onto his side, letting the sun roast his back more evenly.

Energy flowed and settled gently beneath his skin, and every cell silently cheered.

The box of "Tony Brand" vanilla almond cones Happy had delivered sat quietly in the freezer, untouched for now—dessert before getting a proper dose of sun was disrespectful to the sunshine.

Happy still stood dutifully in the shade at the terrace entrance, like a stone statue in power-saving mode. The screen of the communicator on his wrist was dark. Tony was probably still overwhelmed by the ruins of New York and his wrangling with S.H.I.E.L.D., with no time to worry about his little ice cream stash.

Happy was more than happy to enjoy the peace. He stared blankly at the glittering sea, debating whether to order pizza or Chinese takeout for dinner.

The sound of the waves was soothing, while the sea breeze carried the scent of salt and sunlight. Xiao Han's consciousness drifted in the pure warmth, nearly slipping into a light sleep.

This carefree state of recharging was the time he treasured most. The ruins of New York, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s noise, the Tesseract's energy fluctuations... all of it had been filtered by the powerful sunlight into distant, blurry background noise.

Unfortunately, today's "quiet" seemed especially fragile.

Footsteps sounded from the path leading to the beach outside the villa. They were neither the deliberately light steps of trained agents nor the entrance Tony made with the roar of armor engines.

The footsteps were hesitant, carrying a heavy feeling mixed with exhaustion, tension, and resolve. Two people.

Happy instantly switched from "power-saving mode" to "alert mode." His muscles tensed as his sharp gaze fixed on the entrance to the path. They were not those annoying S.H.I.E.L.D. people, but they were not familiar faces either.

Xiao Han did not even twitch an eyelid. His Super Hearing had already caught those familiar heartbeats—one steady yet still carrying lingering aftershocks of terror, the other calm and efficient, like a loaded gun, though its edge was deliberately restrained at the moment. Banner and Natasha.

Bruce Banner wore an oversized, faded plaid shirt. His face was covered in stubble, bearing the exhaustion of a long journey and a worry that ran deep into his bones.

He hunched over, his steps unsteady, as if the sea breeze might blow him over at any moment.

Natasha Romanoff, walking beside him, was completely different. She wore neat black casual clothes, her red hair blazing like fire beneath the sun. Her steps were steady, and her sharp eyes swept the surroundings before settling on the figure sunbathing on the terrace.

Her expression was well controlled, but the faint gravity and vigilance deep in her eyes could not escape Xiao Han's senses.

Happy's bulky body silently shifted another step, blocking the stairs to the terrace. His eyes carried scrutiny and an undisguised warning. "Doctor Banner, Agent Romanoff."

His voice was not loud, but it carried the pressure unique to a bodyguard. "Private property. State your business."

Intimidated by Happy's presence, Banner instinctively took half a step back, unease appearing on his face. Natasha stepped forward instead, putting on a perfectly measured professional smile. "Happy, relax.

"We just... came to express our gratitude. About New York." Her voice was calm, but her gaze tried to look past Happy toward Xiao Han on the beach chair. "And we have some... personal questions we'd like to ask Mr. Xiao."

Happy did not budge, like a wall. Express gratitude? As if he believed that. He had just sent away S.H.I.E.L.D.'s "garbage truck," and now two even bigger problems had arrived? Just thinking about the big green guy inside Banner made Happy's scalp tingle. As for the Black Widow? She was practically synonymous with trouble.

"The boss is resting," Happy repeated, his tone even firmer.

The atmosphere became somewhat tense.

Then Xiao Han's lazy voice came from the beach chair, hoarse from soaking up the sun. His eyes remained closed.

"Happy, let them come over. A nerd scared witless by himself and a vase with a mission aren't going to die from a little sun."

The words were utterly impolite, even casually cutting. Banner's face instantly reddened, from both shame and embarrassment. Natasha's professional smile stiffened for a moment, and a flash of coldness passed through her eyes, only to be instantly suppressed by her flawless self-control, leaving nothing but calm.

Only then did Happy reluctantly step aside, though his gaze remained fixed on the two like a searchlight, especially Banner.

Banner and Natasha stepped onto the terrace, fine sand softly crunching beneath their feet. The sunlight poured down without obstruction, warm and bright, yet it could not dispel the invisible tension they had brought with them.

Banner stopped several meters from the beach chair, looking somewhat at a loss. His eyes darted away, and he did not dare meet Xiao Han's gaze.

Natasha stood a little closer, her posture relaxed, though every muscle in her body remained in a subtle state of alert.

"Mr. Xiao," Natasha spoke first, softening her voice, "thank you for what you did in New York. You... saved many innocent people." She tried to begin a friendly conversation.

Xiao Han did not react, as though he had fallen asleep.

Banner took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage of a lifetime. At last, he raised his head and looked toward the figure bathed in a halo of light on the beach chair.

His voice was dry and trembling with nerves. "M-Mr. Xiao. I... I'm Bruce Banner."

He licked his cracked lips, his eyes full of struggle and nearly desperate pleading. "About... Kolkata, and... that thing... inside me... I..."

He was incoherent. The enormous psychological pressure left him almost unable to organize his words. That green, destructive monster was the nightmare he could never shake.

And the man before him was the only one who could use sheer, overwhelming power to make that monster instantly quiet, even... afraid.

On the battlefield in New York, when the Hulk instinctively avoided the area where Xiao Han stood, Banner had seen that fear clearly through the chaos in his mind.

It had allowed him to glimpse a faint, distant hope—perhaps a chance to control, or even get rid of, that monster. Even if that hope came from an even more terrifying unknown existence.

Xiao Han finally lifted one eyelid slowly. There was no emotion in his black eyes, only mild impatience at having been disturbed.

His gaze rested on Banner's face, written over with pain and pleading, for less than a second before drifting away to where the sea met the sky.

"The 'thing' inside you?" Xiao Han's voice was flat, as if he were evaluating an object. "Pretty strong. Demolishes buildings pretty fast."

Banner froze at the offhand assessment. Demolishes buildings pretty fast? That was the source of all his pain and fear!

"It... it's dangerous! It's out of control! I..." Banner hurriedly tried to explain.

"Dangerous?" Xiao Han interrupted, his tone carrying a faint, almost imperceptible mockery. "To whom? To you? Or to everyone else?" He turned his head and finally looked Banner directly in the eye. His gaze was so calm it made Banner's heart turn cold. "It's afraid of me, isn't it?"

Banner shuddered all over, his pupils contracting sharply. The other man had so bluntly exposed something Banner himself had not dared fully confirm! The Hulk... the embodiment of rage, would retreat before absolute violence!

"It... it..." Banner's throat tightened.

"Fear is instinct." Xiao Han closed his eyes again, seemingly losing interest in Banner's struggle. His voice was almost cruelly direct. "Like a rabbit seeing a hawk.

"The 'rabbit' inside you is just a little bigger. If it's scared, let it stay scared. The more you fear it, the more it thinks you're a nice, easy sandbag to punch."

A sandbag?

Banner was completely stunned. The gamma-ray cure he had pursued his entire life, all his mental suppression training, his years spent fleeing from place to place... in the other man's words, it all seemed to have become meaningless, futile resistance against instinct.

The core logic was brutally simple—if the sandbag was tough enough, even the biggest fist had to think twice.

Natasha listened from the side, her brows slightly furrowed. She keenly caught the key point in Xiao Han's words: the Hulk's fear of Xiao Han was absolute, instinctive. This information was crucial to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s risk assessment.

She interjected at the right moment, trying to steer the topic in a more "official" direction. "Mr. Xiao's perspective... is very unique. S.H.I.E.L.D. has advanced gamma research equipment and teams of experts. Perhaps they could help Doctor Banner find a more stable..."

"Experts?" Xiao Han gave a short scoff without opening his eyes. "A bunch of idiots standing around a sandbag, studying how to make it softer."

He mercilessly cut Natasha off, completely dismissing her attempt to establish contact. "Make the sandbag harder, and the fist naturally gets softer. Such a simple truth, and you need machines to measure it?"

The smile on Natasha's face finally vanished completely. The man would not respond to either soft or hard tactics, and he treated S.H.I.E.L.D.'s olive branch with utter contempt. She felt deeply powerless.

Continuing to probe would only humiliate them, and might even anger him. She looked at Banner beside her, dazed and crushed, his worldview teetering under the impact of the "Sandbag Theory," and decisively made her choice.

"It seems we've disturbed Mr. Xiao's rest." Natasha's voice regained an agent's calm, carrying a faint, barely detectable distance. "Thank you again for everything you did for New York.

"Doctor Banner, we should go." She reached out and gently supported the still-dazed Banner.

Banner raised his head blankly. He looked at Natasha, then at Xiao Han, who was once more bathing in sunlight on the beach chair as if he had never been disturbed.

The pleading and hope in his eyes dimmed, leaving only deeper confusion and a... naked helplessness after being completely exposed. If the sandbag became harder, the fist became softer? Was that... the answer?

He said nothing more. Letting Natasha support him, he turned around in a daze and stumbled back the way they had come. The sunlight fell across his hunched back, making him seem especially weighed down.

Happy watched the two leave until their figures vanished around the bend of the villa path. Only then did he finally let out a breath of relief.

He returned to his spot, muttering inwardly, The boss's way of "counseling" people... is really hardcore. Still, the results seemed... immediate? At least that big green guy would not be coming to tear down the villa anytime soon.

The terrace returned to quiet. The sounds of waves, wind, and sunlight flowing.

Xiao Han comfortably rolled over on the beach chair and let out a satisfied sigh. That little interruption had not disrupted his sunbathing rhythm in the slightest. Sandbags or fists, what could compare to sunlight warming his bones?

"Happy." His eyes remained closed, his voice lazy.

"Boss?" Happy immediately answered.

"Tell Tony," Xiao Han said slowly, "a sandbag salesman came by just now, along with someone selling machines. Put the consultation fee on his tab." He paused, seeming to savor his earlier theory. "And add interest... another box of chocolate-coated ones. That lesson made my throat dry."