Sunshine, Bills, and an Uninvited "Guest"

California's morning sun pierced the horizon, splashing its first pure golden rays across the terrace of the Malibu villa.

Xiao Han had long since claimed the prime spot on a beach chair, like a precisely calibrated solar panel greedily absorbing the energy source of a new day.

The morning light, carrying a faintly cool sea mist, fell across his face. Warm currents surged beneath his skin as his strength silently settled and grew.

Only a small piece of crispy cone remained in his hand from the oversized vanilla almond ice cream Happy had brought him. Melted cream dripped onto the sand and was quickly evaporated by the sunlight.

Happy himself stood like a large decorative object in the shadows by the terrace entrance, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

The screen of the communicator on his wrist was lit up, displaying a stream of encrypted messages from Tony, brimming with resentment.

The core message was highly condensed: Bills! Astronomical bills! The ice cream consumption was appalling! Happy watched his nose and minded his heart, pretending the signal was bad. A "sunshine debt dispute" between bosses was not something a bodyguard could afford to get involved in.

The terrace was peaceful, filled only with the soothing sound of waves lapping at the shore, the occasional cry of seagulls, and the faint crunch as the last bit of cone between Xiao Han's fingers was bitten apart.

His energy was full, the sunlight was perfect, and the world was harmonious. This was what his existence was all about.

The ruins of New York, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s box, Tony's incessant muttering... they were all like foam left on the beach by the receding tide, vanishing in an instant without a trace.

Unfortunately, tranquility was like Tony's ice cream stockpile—always especially fragile.

From the direction of the villa, the reinforced glass door leading to the terrace was shoved open violently with a harsh clang, instantly tearing apart the morning silence.

Tony Stark burst out with heavy dark circles beneath his eyes, hair as messy as a bird's nest mauled by Hulk, wearing a wrinkled T-shirt stained with motor oil and coffee, and dragging a pair of slippers. He looked like a walking bomb of resentment.

He waved a glaringly bright tablet in his hand, its screen so packed with charts and numbers that they seemed ready to spill out.

"Xiao! Han!" Tony's voice was hoarse and distorted from sleep deprivation and extreme resentment. He rushed to the beach chair in a few strides and nearly shoved the tablet beneath Xiao Han's closed eyelids. "Look! Take a good look! This is what you've done!"

At the top of the tablet screen was a bold red title: "Malibu Villa 'Special Incident' Profit, Loss, and Debt Settlement Report (V3.0 Final Edition)." Below it was a list of horrifying entries:

- Ice cream consumption (including interest)*: Vanilla almond × 38 tubs, chocolate crisp × 52 cones, mixed nuts × 27 boxes... (detailed list spanning three scrolling pages)... converted according to the latest Stark Industries stock price: approximately $1,578,430.25

- "S.H.I.E.L.D. trash removal fee" and "noise pollution fee": Calculated based on Quinjet fuel, personnel hours, emotional damages, and potential diplomatic risk premiums: $5,000,000.00

- "Visitor consultation fee" (Doctor Banner & Agent Romanoff): Calculated based on time costs, degree of psychological contamination, and potential Hulk demolition risk premiums: $2,500,000.00

- "Sunlight occupation compensation" (during the Battle of New York): Based on the current price of Malibu's premier sunbathing VIP suites × 24 hours × emotional damages coefficient: $10,000,000.00

- "Emotional comfort fee" (exclusive to Tony Stark): Witnessing inhuman power, armor being disparaged as "canned skin," severe damage to self-esteem... (12-page psychological evaluation report attached)...: $50,000,000.00

- Temporary storage fee for "cosmic-grade scrap metal" (including security upgrades and energy shielding): Based on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s daily rental standard for S-class containment items × expected storage period (indefinite): $1,000,000/day (accumulating...)

Total (as of publication): $69,078,430.25 (There was also a line of fine print beneath it: Daily interest compounded at 0.5%, no upper limit.)

Tony's finger trembled with agitation as he pointed at the number that was still constantly rising. "Sixty million! Dollars! It's only been a few days?! And there's that outrageous one-million-a-day warehouse rent! The interest is snowballing! Are you planning to eat me into bankruptcy with ice cream and sunlight, then use my villa to pay off the debt?!"

Xiao Han did not even raise an eyelid. He merely tilted his head slightly, avoiding the blinding sunlight reflected off the tablet screen, as if that thing annoyed him more than Tony's noise. He leisurely took another bite of the last remaining piece of cone in his hand, producing a crisp crack.

"Loud." One word, concise and to the point, like pressing a mute button.

Tony nearly failed to catch his breath, his face turning red. "Loud?! I'm going bankrupt! My money! My ice cream! It all went into your stomach! And that pile of scrap metal is taking up the most expensive laboratory on the bottom three floors of my basement! You still think I'm loud?!"

Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, he spun around in place, trying to find a more forceful accusation.

"Bills?" Xiao Han finally deigned to speak, his voice carrying the laziness of someone steeped in sunlight, along with undisguised disdain.

"Tony, when did you learn Fury's trick of treating waste paper like an imperial decree?" He raised the finger that had just finished the ice cream, still dusted with a few sugar grains, and casually poked at the tablet screen in Tony's hand.

Click.

A faint sound of electronic components overloading.

The tablet screen in Tony's hand instantly went dark, becoming a lifeless black brick. Even the power indicator had gone out.

"You!" Tony stared wide-eyed at the tablet that had been rendered useless in an instant, his heart aching fiercely—his new armor sketches from last night's all-nighter were still in there!

"Debts must be repaid. That's only natural." Xiao Han withdrew his finger and casually wiped it on his beach shorts, as though he had merely flicked away a speck of dust.

"But..." He paused, finally opening his eyes. His black pupils were so clear in the morning light that they seemed almost cold as he looked at Tony. "Those colorful numbers of yours aren't worth as much to me as an ice cream cone in Happy's hand."

He lifted his chin toward Happy. "Repay my 'sunshine debt' with ice cream. As for everything else..." His gaze swept over Tony's face, twisted by fury and sleep deprivation, then seemed to pass through the villa and land on the energy-disrupted box deep underground.

"...consider it the necessary storage cost generated by your hobby of collecting junk. Play with it yourself. Don't make noise."

Those words were like ice water poured over Tony's head, instantly dousing more than half of his anger and grievance, leaving only a deeper sense of helplessness from being completely ignored and crushed.

The other party simply did not care about money, precise calculations, or even the two cosmic objects that had S.H.I.E.L.D. on high alert. He only cared about sunlight and ice cream, and... not being disturbed by noise.

Tony opened his mouth, wanting to argue, wanting to roar, wanting to use his genius intellect to find something that would sting the other man.

But when he looked into Xiao Han's calm, rippleless eyes, as though they reflected the entire universe while containing nothing at all, then at the expensive black-brick tablet in his own hand, a tremendous sense of absurdity and exhaustion swept over him.

Reasoning with a "person" who could punch an alien behemoth back into a wormhole, casually destroy his newest tablet, and only cared about sunbathing and eating ice cream? Discussing bills with him?

Like a deflated balloon, his shoulders slumped, and the fingers holding the ruined tablet loosened weakly.

"...Fine." Tony's voice was dry and hoarse, thick with defeat. "You... you win. Unlimited ice cream, okay? Happy!"

He abruptly turned and yelled at the bodyguard in the shadows, as though redirecting the frustration he had nowhere else to vent. "Write this down! From now on, the villa has an unlimited supply of ice cream! Fill it up! Pile it into mountains! Let him eat until the sun goes out!"

After roaring that, he seemed to have been drained of all strength. Dragging his slippers, he turned dejectedly and trudged back toward the villa, his back radiating the tragic resolve of someone who knew better than to provoke what he could not handle.

Happy fought to keep a straight face and answered in a muffled voice, "Yes, boss! Unlimited supply! Mission guaranteed!" He darted a glance at Xiao Han, who had returned to resting with his eyes closed on the beach chair, and silently gave Tony a thumbs-up. The boss had finally understood! Picking a fight with this guy was just making trouble for himself!

The terrace returned to peace. The sunlight was warm, and the sea breeze gentle.

Xiao Han contentedly adjusted his position so the sunlight covered his entire body more evenly. His ears were finally quiet, his ice cream supply was guaranteed, and the sunshine creditor was in a pleasant mood. As for Tony's little financial anxiety? Or the energy fluctuations from those two pieces of "cosmic-grade scrap metal" in the basement?

Heh. Even the salty sea breeze brushing past the tip of his nose at that moment was more worthy of attention than those things.