When Lin Xiao opened his eyes, his left arm had gone numb because two heads were resting on it. One blonde, one brunette, their hair tangled together until he couldn't tell whose was whose. Another woman was curled up on his right, the blanket only reaching her waist, exposing a stretch of wheat-colored back. A fourth lay across the foot of the bed, hugging his calf as a pillow and drooling all over his knee.
The crystal chandelier overhead made him squint. A huge abstract painting hung on the wall. He couldn't make out what it depicted, but it looked expensive. The motorized curtains over the floor-to-ceiling windows were half open, letting Bagram's morning light spill in with the windblown sand, falling over champagne glasses, high heels, and somebody's lace bra scattered across the floor.
This presidential suite. One hundred and twenty square meters. One night's stay cost more than all the rent he had paid in this life and his previous one combined.
Lin Xiao stared at the ceiling in silence for a long while.
"The corruption of capital," he criticized solemnly.
Then he carefully pulled his arm out from under the two heads.
Barefoot on the carpet, Lin Xiao picked up his crumpled shirt, shook it out, and put it on. Then he tiptoed around the glasses and high heels littering the floor and found his other sock under the couch. Throughout the entire process of getting dressed, his expression remained as solemn as if he were attending a church service, except he couldn't suppress the upward tug of his lips.
"You can't blame me for everything that happened last night," Lin Xiao murmured to the air as he buttoned his shirt. "Mostly, Tony insisted on showing me what high society was like. As a representative of S.H.I.E.L.D., it would've been inappropriate to turn him down."
Ding-last night, the host volunteered to challenge Tony Stark to a drinking contest, on the grounds that "someone from Dragon Country can't lose face in front of foreigners."
"That's called diplomatic etiquette."
Ding-the host also volunteered to sing a Dragon Country folk song, which everyone present described as sounding like a giant bear in mating season.
"That's called cultural export." Lin Xiao's expression didn't change. "You wouldn't understand."
He fastened his last button, glanced at the four figures sprawled every which way across the bed, and fell silent for a moment.
Then he took his wallet from his pocket, pulled out four twenty-dollar bills, and solemnly placed them on the nightstand. After some thought, he added four tens.
"Thirty each. Breakfast money. Don't call me stingy."
He stuffed his wallet back into his pocket and strode toward the door. Behind him, the blonde girl sleepily raised her head, glanced at the loose bills on the nightstand, and wavered between bewilderment and not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
"I'll close the door for you-you're welcome-"
The instant the door closed behind Lin Xiao, something hit it with a dull thud, followed by several muffled laughs and curses. Standing in the hallway, Lin Xiao rubbed his nose, looking as innocent as if none of this had anything to do with him.
While he was waiting for the elevator, the doors opened, bringing him face-to-face with Tony Stark inside.
Tony looked quite respectable today in a bespoke dark blue suit and brown-tinted sunglasses, with a Stark Industries pin on his chest.
Tony took off his sunglasses and looked Lin Xiao up and down-his shirt was buttoned wrong, his collar was open down to the third button, and half a blurred lipstick mark stained his collarbone. His hair looked as though someone had just mussed it up. Even worse was the smell of perfume mixed with alcohol on him. It was awful.
Tony's expression changed. It became extremely subtle. It could probably have been interpreted as half a man's appreciation for a kindred spirit, half a friend's exasperation at his failure to do better.
"I can see," Tony said dryly, putting his sunglasses back on, "you made full use of the room I arranged last night."
"It was excellent." Lin Xiao nodded sincerely. "Very soft bed. Just a few too many pillows. I wasn't used to it."
"Those weren't for sleeping."
"...Oh."
The presentation was being held in the weapons display area on the eastern side of the Bagram base. Temporary white tents stood in rows. Inside the largest main tent were over a dozen rows of folding chairs, already filled with military representatives from various countries and several media outlets. A few Humvees and two attack helicopters stood outside, while security personnel patrolled back and forth amid overlapping radio chatter.
As soon as Tony arrived, a group of officers surrounded him. Standing at the edge of the crowd, Lin Xiao yawned and was about to find somewhere shady to hang around.
A white man in a black suit with slick, glossy hair hurried over. Lin Xiao recognized him as an administrative assistant from Stark Industries. What was his name again-Eric? Anderson? The one who had handed him his boarding pass on the plane last time and said, "Mr. Stark made special arrangements," with a very fake smile.
"Mr. Lin! Please wait outside." The assistant wore a broad smile, his attitude just as cold as last time.
Lin Xiao couldn't be bothered with him either and waved a hand. "I'm just here to make up the numbers. I'll stay here."
The assistant was about to say something when he caught sight of Tony approaching out of the corner of his eye. He immediately straightened, his smile switching from "professional insincerity" to "heartfelt flattery" so fast that Lin Xiao could only marvel.
"Mr. Stark-" the assistant began.
"Move." Tony walked past without so much as looking at him and went straight to Lin Xiao.
The assistant's smile froze.
"What are you standing here for?" Tony patted Lin Xiao's arm-he couldn't reach his shoulder. "Come inside with me. There's a seat in the front row."
The assistant's mouth fell open. His gaze bounced wildly between Tony and Lin Xiao as though he were looking at a math problem he couldn't solve. This big S.H.I.E.L.D. oaf had been assigned a seat in the last row beside the restroom by Tony just two days ago, and now Tony was personally inviting him to the front row? When had that happened? What had happened? How had he not known?
"Well, uh... Mr. Stark," the assistant edged closer, his voice ingratiating, "would you like me to arrange an entry pass for Mr. Lin? I can make an exception-"
"No." Tony didn't look back.
The assistant turned to Lin Xiao again, his smile sickeningly sweet. "Mr. Lin, I'm terribly sorry we weren't more hospitable last time. Let me treat you to a meal after the presentation-"
Lin Xiao looked down at him.
"Sure," he said. "You're paying."
The assistant's smile froze again.
Tony led Lin Xiao into the main tent, everyone along the way automatically clearing a path. Tony's seat was in the very center of the front row, with an empty seat beside it. He pointed to it and told Lin Xiao, "Sit."
Lin Xiao sat down. The chair gave a familiar groan but managed to hold. Looking around, he discovered that the entire front row consisted of generals and senior Defense Department officials. They wore all kinds of expressions at the sight of Tony personally escorting in a hulking man with crooked clothes who still smelled of last night's booze.
A general leaned toward Tony and asked quietly, "Who's this?"
"My brother," Tony said, as casually as if he were commenting on the pleasant weather.
The general's expression flickered before he silently shifted his chair half an inch away. Lin Xiao gave him a friendly smile. The general shifted another half inch.
"Lin Xiao." Tony turned, pointed at his own left cheek, and traced a circle on it.
Lin Xiao touched his face and felt something sticky on his fingers. He held them up for a look-lipstick. Dark red. No idea which woman had left it last night.
"Wipe it off." Tony lowered his voice, sounding as though he were scolding his own disappointing younger brother. "The reporters will be taking photos soon, and that face of yours will make headlines. I've already got the title: Stark's mysterious guest wears his trophies on his face."
Lin Xiao rubbed it with the back of his hand. It didn't help much; he only spread the red mark more evenly.
"It didn't come off."
"You fucking-"
"Forget it." Lin Xiao lowered his hand, looking perfectly untroubled. "It's a trophy. Let them take pictures. I can handle it."
Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked as though he were using every ounce of self-control to stop himself from exploding on the spot.
"Do you know why I admire you?" Tony asked in an extremely low voice, forcing each word through his teeth. "Because you always manage to do the most outrageous things with the most innocent expression."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
The presentation began.
Tony walked onto the stage, the lights falling on him as he instantly switched into "Tony Stark mode"-confident, flamboyant, and radiating charisma. He picked up the microphone, his voice carrying throughout the tent through the sound system.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Stark Industries new weapons showcase."
Thunderous applause rose from the audience. Camera flashes went off one after another.
"A lot of people ask me, Tony, what business are you really in? I tell them, I'm not in business. I'm in peace." Tony pressed the remote, and the big screen behind him lit up with a slowly rotating rendering of a silver-white missile. "The Jericho Missile. Range: one hundred and fifty kilometers. Guidance error: less than one meter. It's not just a missile. It's a letter of peace. Anyone who receives this letter will never have a chance to reply."
Another round of applause came from the audience, mixed with a few cheers. The generals in the front row nodded repeatedly, and someone sketched something in a notebook.
Lin Xiao leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. A polite smile hung on his face, but his gaze shifted away from Tony onstage and slowly swept across the venue.
The sides of the tent were translucent white canvas. Through a gap roughly half a meter above the ground at its edges, he could see the brush outside the fence. When the wind blew, the brush stirred, revealing several indistinct silhouettes.
One. Two. Three... At least four or five.
Lin Xiao's eyesight was beyond that of an ordinary person. He could clearly see their desert camouflage, the binoculars and telephoto cameras in their hands, and the faint outlines of holsters at their waists.
He calmly looked away.
"Next is the Freedom Smart Bomb-"
Tony continued his introduction onstage. Below, Lin Xiao yawned, covering his mouth with a hand. He adjusted his posture, rested his hand on the armrest, and began planning as his fingers tapped an unconscious rhythm.
Rush out now and drag those people out? Sure. With Tony's private bodyguards and military security, taking down a few armed militants would be easy. Then what? The presentation gets canceled, Tony flies safely back to New York, and he keeps being an arms dealer.
No cave. No armor. No Iron Man.
Lin Xiao's fingertips stopped on the armrest.
I can't act.
The price of charging out now would be the entire main storyline of the Marvel Universe going up in smoke. Tony would always remain that Tony: the genius who sold weapons, the playboy showing off at presentations. He would never become Iron Man.
Lin Xiao reasoned with himself inwardly. Getting captured is a required course in Tony's life. If I help him skip class, what will he do for his finals? That thought made him feel much better.
The problem now was that he had to wait. Wait for everything to happen. Then act at the most appropriate moment and get Tony out of the cave.
All I can do is wait, Lin Xiao sighed inwardly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Stark Industries-born for peace!"
As Tony finished his closing line, the entire audience rose in applause. Lin Xiao stood with them, clapping harder and looking more sincere than anyone else.
Tony came down from the stage with a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, looking thoroughly invigorated. He walked up to Lin Xiao, took off his sunglasses, and spun them in his hand, his signature smug smile on his lips.
"Well? Pretty good speech, right?"
"Excellent," Lin Xiao said sincerely. "When you were standing up there, you almost had me convinced."
Tony's smile stiffened for a moment. "What do you mean, almost had you convinced?"
Lin Xiao looked at him sincerely. "You start out not believing it, but as you listen, you think this guy might actually have a point. Then you think about it again at the end-oh, no, still not quite right."
Tony was silent for a moment. "Are you complimenting me or insulting me?"
"Complimenting you."
"Why does it sound like an insult?"
"English isn't my first language," Lin Xiao said without batting an eye. "Maybe I didn't express myself accurately."
Tony opened his mouth, then finally decided to drop the subject. He patted Lin Xiao's shoulder. "All right, come on. Have a drink with me. There's a bar on base. The atmosphere isn't much, but the whiskey's real. You helped me deal with those Ten Rings guys last time, and I still haven't properly bought you a drink."
Lin Xiao froze for a moment.
Then a very complicated, very difficult-to-describe expression appeared on his face. It mixed gratitude, apology, regret, and an indescribable awkwardness.
"Tony," Lin Xiao said, his voice lower than usual and carrying just the right amount of sincerity, "I'd like to. But-"
"But what?"
Lin Xiao spread his hands helplessly, his shoulders drooping as his entire being radiated the tragic resignation of a bottom-rung employee with no say in his own life.
"My evaluator hasn't arrived yet. Hawkeye. Until he gives the word, I can't leave my post without permission."
Tony's eyebrows drew together. He checked his watch, then looked at Lin Xiao's face, which practically had "I don't want this either, but I have no choice" written across it. His expression cycled between confusion and suspicion.
"Evaluator? You're still being evaluated?"
"I'm new." Lin Xiao sighed, sounding as aggrieved as an elementary schooler whose allowance had been docked. "I've been there less than a month. I'm still on probation. You have no idea how many procedures we have. If I leave before my evaluator arrives and he writes 'abandoned his post' in the report, I won't even become a permanent employee."
Tony was skeptical. But Lin Xiao's expression was so outrageously sincere that he finally just snorted.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. has too many fucking rules. Fine, I'll head over first. Hurry up when you're done. Don't drag your feet."
"Absolutely."
Tony turned and took a few steps, then suddenly looked back and pointed at Lin Xiao's face.
"Wipe that off."
Lin Xiao rubbed it again with the back of his hand. It still wouldn't come off.
Tony rolled his eyes and strode toward the Humvee. Happy jogged behind him and opened the door. Engines roared to life, and two Humvees drove out through the base's east gate one after another, kicking up a trail of yellow sand as they headed toward Bagram Air Base.
The vehicles drove farther and farther away, their taillights gradually becoming two blurry red dots in the desert sunlight. The engine noise faded too, until all that remained was the flapping of the tent canvas in the wind and the muffled sound of an officer shouting commands in the distance.
Lin Xiao stood alone. The smile slowly faded from his face, replaced by a subtle expression that was hard to call either solemn or reflective.
He slowly walked toward the edge of the tent and crouched in an inconspicuous corner. Then he pulled a lighter from his pocket. From another pocket, he took several sheets of hotel stationery covered with words he had scribbled when he couldn't sleep in the middle of the night.
Lin Xiao spread out the sheets one by one and lit them with his lighter. The paper burned slowly, its small flames almost invisible beneath the blazing midday sun. He placed the burning paper on the ground, ringed it with sand, then crouched there with his hands on his knees and his head lowered.
The firelight illuminated his face, revealing an expression so quiet it was almost unfamiliar.
"On the first day, arriving, ah, at the gates of the underworld..."
His voice was very soft, carrying the accent of some local dialect from Dragon Country. He drew out every note as though humming a song only he knew how to sing.
"Souls of the departed... hear my words..."
The fire went out. The wind lifted the last flake of ash, spun it twice in the air, and dropped it onto the toe of his shoe.
Lin Xiao crouched there, staring motionlessly at the ashes.
Footsteps stopped behind him.
"What are you crouching here for?"
Lin Xiao turned around.
Hawkeye, Clint Barton, stood three meters behind him. Dressed in dark gray tactical gear with his signature quiver on his back, he wore his usual cold, composed expression. But his slightly furrowed brows betrayed his current confusion.
"Burning paper," Lin Xiao said matter-of-factly.
"..." Hawkeye fell silent for a second. "I'm asking what you're doing."
"Praying for good fortune."
Hawkeye's brow furrowed even deeper. He looked down at the ashes, then back up at Lin Xiao, his expression shifting between "this guy has a screw loose" and "what kind of feudal superstition is he practicing?"
"I was saying goodbye to Tony." Lin Xiao stood and brushed the sand from his knees, looking sincere. "According to our traditions in Dragon Country, when a friend goes on a long journey, you burn some paper and say a few auspicious words to keep them safe."
Hawkeye stared at him. His instincts told him something wasn't right. But logically, he couldn't find a flaw-Tony had indeed gone on a long journey, and Lin Xiao was indeed burning paper to send him off. This kid was always strange anyway. Burning paper wasn't the strangest thing he had done.
"...Fine." Hawkeye decided not to dwell on that detail. He was more concerned about another issue. "Why didn't you go with Stark?"
"I was waiting for you." Lin Xiao spread his hands.
The corner of Hawkeye's mouth twitched. He remembered how this guy had grabbed his hand in the hotel room last time and wailed, "I've shed blood for the organization!" Now here he was again-his expression outrageously innocent, yet unable to hide the shrewd gleam in his eyes.
"I put work first. I wouldn't dare offend my superior," Lin Xiao said solemnly. "You're my evaluator, aren't you?"
Hawkeye was silent for a long while. He had already prepared what he would say, intending to demand why Lin Xiao hadn't stayed with Tony and why he hadn't gotten into that Humvee. But now Lin Xiao had framed it as You're my superior; I stayed to wait for you, leaving him at a loss for words.
Reject that, and it would be the same as saying, "You don't need to wait for me." Then if this big guy really didn't wait next time and something happened, who would be responsible?
Let it stand, and this guy would use "waiting for my superior" as a shield, passing the blame for whatever he wanted to do in the future.
Hawkeye's mouth twitched. Looking at Lin Xiao's face, so full of sincerity, he suddenly understood why Natasha always wore such a complicated expression whenever she mentioned him.
"Are you actually fucking stupid, or are you pretending?"
Lin Xiao gave it serious thought.
"Both."
Hawkeye turned and walked away.
"Hey! Why are you leaving?" Lin Xiao shouted after him.
Hawkeye quickened his pace. His tactical boots left a trail of deep footprints in the sand as he walked faster and faster. Watching the quiver-bearing figure recede into the distance, Lin Xiao slowly lost that chatterbox expression and returned to his earlier quiet.
He stood up, slid his hands into his trouser pockets, and turned to walk in the opposite direction from the base. After two steps, he suddenly stopped, his feet rooted to the spot and his expression frozen.
Ding-key plot event detected. Five-star mission generated: Rescue Tony Stark.
Lin Xiao held his breath.
Mission objective: Rescue Tony Stark safely within ninety days of his kidnapping. Mission countdown: ninety days. Timer started.
Lin Xiao stood where he was, his chin raised slightly. Bagram's dry, hot wind hurled grains of sand against his face, but he didn't notice.
Ninety days. More precisely, this was a countdown-Tony had already been kidnapped; he simply hadn't received word yet. By the time news reached S.H.I.E.L.D., by the time they verified the intelligence, held meetings, and devised a rescue plan-the countdown would already be ticking away.
But he already knew.
Ninety. Ninety whole days to act freely. Tony would hammer sheet metal in the cave while he completed missions outside. Neither interfering with the other, both working toward their reunion.
When Tony finished hammering that last piece of metal-Lin Xiao would be waiting outside the cave entrance with four bottles of glucose and a full set of farmed attribute points, like a guardian deity descending from the heavens, to get him out.