The taxi soon arrived at Forest Hills Apartments. The driver watched curiously as Lin Xiao carried two bulging bags into the complex, muttering to himself, Did this Asian guy go shopping for restaurant supplies?
As Lin Xiao headed upstairs, he noticed a thin line of warm yellow light spilling from beneath May's door next door.
Lin Xiao looked down at the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall in his hand. He had specifically ordered an extra portion to take home, intending to heat it up for lunch tomorrow. But standing by the stairs, smelling the rich aroma seeping out of the bag, he suddenly recalled the waffles May had brought over last time.
Lin Xiao scratched his head, changed direction, and walked toward May's apartment.
He knocked three times.
A flurry of frantic noises came from inside-the screech of chair legs scraping the floor, the sharp clatter of a pen falling onto a desk, then hurried footsteps.
The door opened.
A skinny boy stood in the doorway, black-framed glasses sitting crookedly on his nose, plaid shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, an ink stain still marking the web of his right hand. He looked as though he had just lifted his head from a pile of homework, his eyes still a little unfocused. Peter Parker.
Then he saw who was standing at the door. His neck instinctively drew back, and his pupils visibly widened.
"M-Mr. Lin?" His voice rose half a pitch, and his feet involuntarily carried him half a step backward.
He could hardly be blamed for being scared. The last time they had met, Lin Xiao had been leaning over a railing, smiling at him and Aunt May. Peter still hadn't fully processed the impression that smile had left on him. And now this six-foot-eleven hulk was standing at his door, carrying two bulging bags, giving off a faint smell of alcohol, and wearing a smile that could be interpreted as either "friendly" or "ready to eat someone."
"May's not home?" Lin Xiao glanced inside.
"Aunt May went to the hospital. She's on the night shift tonight-" Only after saying it did Peter realize he had freely handed over the information that there were no adults home. His expression immediately filled with regret.
"Perfect, then." Lin Xiao held out the takeout bag. "Here. This is for you."
Peter instinctively accepted it and looked down. Inside the bag was an elegant takeout container with a translucent lid, through which he could vaguely make out the shapes of abalone, sea cucumber, and fish maw crowded together. A rich, savory aroma drifted from the opening of the bag.
"What is this?" Peter looked up, his eyes round.
"Buddha Jumps Over the Wall," Lin Xiao said. "A dish from Dragon Country. Basically, you stew a bunch of good stuff together. Very nourishing."
Peter opened his mouth, looked down at the container again, then back up at Lin Xiao. His expression bounced between confusion and delight. His lips moved for a long time before he finally squeezed out, "Th-thank you!"
"You're welcome."
Lin Xiao was about to turn away when Peter stopped him.
"Mr. Lin! Um..." The boy scratched his head, his glasses sliding another half inch down his nose. "Would you like to come in for a bit? Aunt May says I should be polite to people. You brought me something, and I haven't even poured you a glass of water."
Lin Xiao thought for a moment, nodded, then turned and walked inside.
Peter visibly stiffened as he moved aside. He had only been being polite; he hadn't expected the big man to actually come in.
The apartment wasn't large, but it was spotlessly clean.
The fabric sofa in the living room was getting on in years, its armrests worn shiny, but it was covered with a handmade crocheted beige throw, its stitches fine and even. Peter's homework notebook and an open physics textbook lay spread across the coffee table, their corners curled and their pages covered in little colored tabs. Several framed photographs hung on the wall-pictures of Peter throughout his childhood, May with an unfamiliar man, and a yellowed wedding photograph.
Lin Xiao's gaze lingered on the wedding photograph for a second.
"That's my uncle." Peter's voice came from behind him, quieter than before. "Uncle Ben. He's been gone for several years."
"May raised you alone?" Lin Xiao sat on the sofa. It gave a scream of protest and sank a considerable distance.
Peter sat opposite him and nodded. He set the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall on the coffee table, unconsciously picking at the bag's handles, and fell silent for a few seconds.
"Aunt May works really hard." Peter spoke softly, as though talking to himself. "She's a nurse at the community hospital. She's on her feet for over ten hours every day, and she still has to cook for me when she gets home. I want to help with some chores, but she never lets me. She tells me to focus on studying." He paused. "I'm not afraid of getting tired. I just don't want her to have to work so hard. But I can't help with anything."
Peter hung his head, looking dejected, his thin shoulders trembling slightly. Lin Xiao leaned against the sofa back and looked at the frail boy before him.
He knew Peter would change. In the near future, a mutated spider would bite him, and he would gain spiderlike strength, speed, and perception, becoming the red-and-blue figure swinging through the skies over New York.
But right now, he was just an ordinary high school student who worried about exams, felt bad for Aunt May, and was embarrassed even to accept a container of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.
Lin Xiao suddenly spoke.
"Peter."
The boy looked up.
"Do you know what 'with great power comes great responsibility' means?"
The instant the words left his mouth, Lin Xiao himself froze.
-Wait. That wasn't his line. It was Ben's, the most important line in Spider-Man's world. How had a clerk who only wanted to keep his head down until retirement ended up spouting such ridiculously inspirational crap?
But he saw Peter's eyes light up.
The boy leaned forward slightly, his lips moving as though chewing over the words. Then he nodded firmly. "I understand. If I have the ability to help people, I should help them. Right?"
"Half right." Lin Xiao raised a finger. "You understand responsibility, but you don't understand timing. There's an old saying in Dragon Country: a gentleman keeps his tools hidden and waits for the right time to act."
"What does that mean?"
"It means-just because you're carrying a hidden blade doesn't mean you have to draw it for everyone to see every time you go out. A blade is for cutting people down when it matters, not chopping chives at the market." Lin Xiao picked up the physics textbook on the table, flipped through it, failed to understand it, and put it down again. "You feel like you can't do anything right now, don't you?"
Peter was silent for a moment, then nodded.
"Then this is the time to keep your blade hidden." Lin Xiao looked into his eyes. "The longer you keep it hidden, the sharper it'll be when you draw it. Your job right now isn't to rush out and save the world. It's to study hard, put on some weight, and build a solid foundation. When the day comes that you're really needed, you'll naturally know what to do."
Peter stared at him for a good while, then slowly smiled. It wasn't much of a smile, but it was utterly genuine.
"Mr. Lin, what you say makes a lot of sense." He pushed up his glasses. "But you're really strange."
"How am I strange?"
"You look like you could punch a cow to death, but you sound wiser than my teachers."
Before Lin Xiao could answer, the sound of a key turning came from the door.
The door opened. May walked in, still wearing her hospital uniform beneath a pilling camel-colored coat, a cloth bag in her hand and exhaustion all over her face.
She closed the door, looked up, and saw Lin Xiao sitting on her sofa.
May froze.
One hand remained on the doorknob while the other hung in midair, still holding her bag. Her eyes rested on Lin Xiao for a second, then shifted to Peter, who was grinning without a care on the sofa beside him, and then to the open container of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall on the coffee table.
Finally, her gaze returned to Lin Xiao's face, and an indescribable softness appeared on hers.
"Aunt May!" Peter stood, looking excited. "Mr. Lin brought us Buddha Jumps Over the Wall. He said we should try it."
"Peter." May interrupted him, her voice a little softer than usual. "Take your homework back to your room first. I have something to say to Mr. Lin."
Peter sensibly scooped up his homework and slipped back to his room, secretly giving Lin Xiao a thumbs-up before closing the door.
The living room fell quiet.
May hung her cloth bag on the hook behind the door, took off her coat, and draped it over a chair back. Her movements were slow, as though buying herself time to find the words.
"I worked a night shift," she said, a trace of hoarseness in her voice. "I'm exhausted."
"I can tell."
May turned to look at Lin Xiao. She wore a light blue nurse's uniform, her hair was somewhat disheveled, and the fine lines around her eyes were a little deeper than usual, but the corners of her mouth slowly lifted.
"You brought Peter food."
"Takeout. I couldn't finish it all myself anyway."
"And kept him company."
"Just chatting."
"I heard the last part." May folded her arms and tilted her head at him. "'A gentleman keeps his tools hidden and waits for the right time to act.' Is that how you normally chat with people?"
Lin Xiao choked, gave two dry coughs, and stood up from the sofa. "It's getting late. I'd better head back."
He walked to the door, his hand already on the handle.
"Lin Xiao."
Lin Xiao looked back.
May stood about half a step behind him. The light shone down from overhead, falling on her brown hair and spreading into a warm halo.
"Thank you." May's voice was very soft, as though she were saying something no third person could be allowed to hear.
May rose gently onto her toes and rested a hand on Lin Xiao's shoulder. Lin Xiao instinctively bent down, and May's rosy lips pressed lightly against his left cheek.
The touch was very light, like a warm feather.
May lowered her heels and took a step back. Her ears visibly turned pale pink, but her expression remained composed enough to be called professional.
"A goodnight kiss. I kiss Peter the same way. Don't get the wrong idea."
Lin Xiao looked at her. She stood where she was, hands folded in front of her, her posture proper, but her tightly clenched knuckles betrayed her nervousness.
Lin Xiao smiled.
He didn't call her out. He simply shook his head with a smile, opened the door, and walked out.
The door slowly closed behind him.
Standing in the hallway, Lin Xiao touched the spot on his left cheek where she had kissed him, unable to suppress the curve of his lips. He strolled toward his own apartment, and after two steps, began quietly humming an old song whose name he didn't know.
Meanwhile, on the top floor of Stark Tower.
Tony Stark lounged in the very center of a leather sofa, swirling a half-finished glass of Scotch. The ice cubes clinked crisply against the glass.
Across from him, Nick Fury sat in a black leather chair, hands folded in front of him, his expression unchanged, a cold, hard sheen reflecting off his bald head.
"So you're saying," Tony said, as though confirming some unbelievable detail, "you deliberately arranged for a muscle-bound freak over six and a half feet tall to steal my thunder at my press conference-just to test him?"
"That's not a particularly accurate summary, but he did do that." Fury's voice was steady and even.
"And then you had me play along and punish him with a trip to Afghanistan."
"Tony." A rare hint of patience entered Fury's voice. "We assessed your Afghanistan itinerary last week. The risk level was B+. Under standard procedure, you need at least two field agents accompanying you. But we're short-staffed lately, and you don't like strangers following you around. This solution benefits both sides."
"Pepper was sneaking looks at him several times today, and now I have to take him to Afghanistan. You call that a benefit? I already want to slice him up for study. Don't expect me to be nice to him." Tony flung the question like a poisoned dart.
Fury fell silent for a second.
"That wasn't part of my plan."
Tony stood and carried his glass to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Manhattan's nightscape spread beneath him, countless lights merging into a sea. His reflection appeared in the glass, his lips curved in an ambiguous smile beneath his brown-tinted sunglasses.
"I don't care what score he got in your assessment report." Tony swirled his glass. "If he's going, he follows my orders. Afghanistan isn't his personal fashion show."
Fury said nothing, merely giving a slight nod. That nod could mean "I'll pass that along," or "you're right," or "I don't want to keep having this damned conversation with you."
Just then, his phone vibrated.
Fury glanced down at the screen. A message from Coulson, containing just one line:
"Meal: $6,842. Lin Xiao also took away one case of Maotai and ten cartons of soft-pack Chunghwa."
The screen's light reflected off Fury's smooth forehead. A vein at his temple twitched.
He put away his phone and stood, his face livid.
Tony turned, noticing the subtle change in Fury's expression. He raised one eyebrow, his voice carrying a note of gleeful schadenfreude. "What happened? Someone eat S.H.I.E.L.D. out of its budget?"
Fury looked at him expressionlessly.
"Nothing."
He strode toward the elevator, his black trench coat sweeping in a sharp arc behind him. Before the doors closed, Tony faintly heard a muttered phrase.
"Son of a bitch."
Tony stood alone in the empty office, holding his whiskey and contemplating his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows for a long time.
"JARVIS."
"Yes, sir."
"Tell me, what kind of man can steal my thunder at a press conference, make Fury swear, and have my assistant, Ms. Natasha, looking at that big guy like she wants to freeze him into a popsicle, skewer him, and toss him into the Hudson River?"
JARVIS was silent for two seconds.
"Sir, based on the data collected so far, I cannot provide a definitive answer. However, I suggest you no longer allow him to wear that strip of lace in public."
Tony nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. JARVIS, pull up his background check and go through everything. From his birth certificate to which hand he used to hold his chopsticks at his last meal. I want it all."
"Sir, his background investigation file has already been marked as restricted access by S.H.I.E.L.D."
Tony's glass paused.
Then he smiled. That signature smile Pepper privately called the "someone's in trouble" smile.
"Interesting. Very interesting."
He drained the whiskey in his glass. The ice struck the bottom with a sharp clink.
"Then let's get properly acquainted in Afghanistan."