The day Lin Xiao was wheeled into New York-Presbyterian Hospital, all the nurses on the entire floor came to watch the spectacle.
"Is he the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. who fought the green-skinned monster?"
"My God, he's even stronger and more handsome than he looks on TV."
"Those pectoral muscles--"
Shh—keep your voice down, he's opened his eyes!
Lin Xiao did indeed open his eyes. He lay on the stretcher, his face pale, his lips cracked, his left leg in a makeshift splint, and his arms covered in bruises. He looked like he had just been pulled out of a blender. But his eyes were darting around with incredible agility, scanning the nurses on either side of the corridor and silently giving them a score in his mind.
" Doupao."
"Ding--Here."
"What's your score for the blonde on the left?"
"Ding--This system does not provide this type of assessment service."
"What use are you? I'll judge for myself then. That blonde wavy hair is an eight out of ten. The red-haired one on the right—six and a half, minus half a point because her eyebrows are too thick."
Before he could finish his evaluation, the stretcher was wheeled into the LCU, the highest level of intensive care unit, costing at least $10,000 a day and equipped with 24-hour dedicated care. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall, and the window faced Central Park. As Lin Xiao was lifted onto the bed, he secretly touched the hand of a Latina nurse he had just given a nine out of ten rating, eliciting screams from the nurse. A very subtle smirk appeared on Lin Xiao's lips.
This mattress is made of memory foam, it's comfortable. It feels even better when you touch your bare hands.
He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath, and the "I'm so weak" expression on his face returned.
Lin Xiao discovered that his injuries were completely healed while he was on the plane.
Inside the medical bay of General Ross's private jet, he pretended to be unconscious with his eyes closed, but was actually mentally reconciling accounts with Doupao. Halfway through, he suddenly felt that his ribs no longer hurt. He raised his fingers and the swelling on his knee had disappeared. He moved his shoulder and found that the fracture he had suffered from Hulk had also healed.
The Lizard Serum's regenerative ability was much faster than he had imagined. The entire journey from Culver University to New York took less than two hours, and his body, which had been nearly torn apart by the Hulk, was now completely intact, with his muscle lines even smoother than before.
"Ding--The repair speed of the Perfect Lizard Regeneration Serum is positively correlated with the degree of damage. The host suffered extensive and deep injuries this time, and the serum cell activity has been fully activated, increasing the healing efficiency by about 40% compared to the standard value. In addition, with the extra 20% provided by the Emperor Green Scar's blessing, the total increase is 60%."
Lin Xiao opened his eyes, looked at the pale light of the medical pod above him, and fell into a brief moment of contemplation.
Now the injury is healed, and the whole body is healthy.
But his mind worked faster than a serum. Healing meant there was no reason to continue feigning illness. No reason to feign illness meant he would be interrogated. Interrogation meant questioning, which would drive anyone crazy. So he decided to go all out and stay sick for a few more days to properly recover.
Lin Xiao closed his eyes, sinking back into the hospital bed, his face contorted into a weak, sickly expression, as if he needed oxygen to stay alive. He maintained this expression for a full two minutes, until he was sure it looked realistic enough, before finally turning over with satisfaction and burying his face in the memory foam pillow.
Comfortable and great!
So what happened next is easy to understand.
On Lin Xiao's first day at LCU, the attending physician came to see him with a group of interns. The elderly doctor had gray hair and wore gold-rimmed glasses; he seemed like a meticulous and serious person. He flipped through the medical record, then looked at Lin Xiao, then flipped through the medical record again, then looked at Lin Xiao again, and his brows slowly furrowed.
"Mr. Lin, your examination report shows that your skeletal structure is intact, there is no obvious soft tissue damage, and all vital signs are within the normal range. From a medical perspective, your current physical condition is excellent."
"Cough--cough cough--" Lin Xiao coughed violently, the sound so loud it seemed like he was coughing up his lungs. The intern next to him subconsciously took a half step back. Lin Xiao clutched his chest with one hand, while the other hand trembled as he grabbed the attending physician's white coat sleeve. His face was pale and his lips were shaking.
"Doctor—I have chest pain—I can't Shang-Chi— "
The attending physician glanced down at the hand on his sleeve. That hand, which had been steadily holding the congee with preserved egg and lean pork, was now trembling like a leaf. He adjusted his glasses, paused for a few seconds, and wrote a line on the medical record, "Patient reports chest pain; continued hospitalization for observation recommended."
"Thank you, doctor --cough cough--"
The attending physician turned and left. The interns filed out, the last one glancing back at Lin Xiao. Lin Xiao was holding the bowl of congee with preserved egg and lean pork, drinking it down in large gulps, his movements so brisk and efficient compared to the person who had been coughing so hard she was almost out of breath. The intern opened her mouth, and Lin Xiao looked up, winked at her, and put his index finger to his lips in a "shh" gesture. The intern's face flushed red, and she quickly walked out with her head down.
Over the next few days, Lin Xiao turned his life in the LCU hospital into a kind of performance art.
He first criticized the hospital's nutritional meals by looking at the menu, then demanded extra food with a clear conscience. His reasoning was sound: wounded soldiers need to supplement their protein intake, and the hospital's meals didn't even include a decent steak, which was a serious infringement on his right to recovery. The nurse tried to argue, but Lin Xiao pointed to the badge on the bedside table that read " S.H.I.E.L.D.. Level 6 Agent." The nurse looked at his sincere face and finally gave in.
On the first day, he ate steak. On the second day, he ate lobster tail. On the third day, he ordered a whole roasted turkey, explaining that "my bones feel a bit itchy today, I might need to take calcium supplements." The nutritionist in charge of his meals was an elderly woman with gray hair who had never seen a patient like this in her thirty years of work. She stood at the entrance of the LCU, holding the plate of boiled broccoli that had been returned, her lips trembling for a long time before she finally just sighed, turned around, and went to the cafeteria to get him a roasted turkey instead.
The two liaison officers left behind by the military to "assist in treatment" were not so accommodating.
On the first day, they sat outside the ward with stern faces, checking in every half hour. On the second day, they started whispering among themselves. On the third day, the captain named Ralph finally couldn't hold back any longer and dialed General Ross's phone number in front of Lin Xiao.
"General, Agent Lin Xiao has been hospitalized for three days. All his test results are normal, and the attending physician says he has no substantial problems, but he insists he's in pain all over his body—he's eating turkey right now, yes, a whole turkey, all by himself, and that chicken looks to be over twenty pounds, yes, General—he's watching SpongeBob SquarePants while he's eating, yes, General, good, General."
Ralph hung up the phone, his face even greener than before. Lin Xiao looked up from the turkey leg, oil still dripping from his mouth, and held up the half-eaten chicken leg in his hand.
" Captain Ralph, want one? The mess hall grilled them really well today."
"... No."
"Could you call a nurse for me? The tube on this portable ventilator isn't long enough; I can't get to the window."
Ralph glanced at the ventilator, then at Lin Xiao. He had just been riding that wheeled portable IV stand, driving around the entire ward. The ventilator tubing was dragging on the floor, which he was using as a dog leash, swinging it around in the air as he played around.
Ralph took a deep breath, turned and walked out of the ward, closed the door, stood in the corridor, stared at the ceiling, and moved his lips.
" God, take him away."
His companion, a lieutenant named Miller, leaned against the wall, a cold cup of coffee in his hand, his face expressionless. He looked down at the coffee, then up at the ceiling, and said in a knowing tone, " Ralph, have you ever considered that maybe it's not him who has the problem, but us?"
"... What the hell did you say?"
"I mean, maybe God sent him here to punish us for the sins we committed in our past lives."
Ralph opened his mouth, only to find that he couldn't refute it.
Just then, the crisp sound of high heels echoed from the end of the corridor. The sound was unhurried and steady, each step measured as if measured with a ruler. Ralph and Miller turned around simultaneously and saw a woman in a dark gray suit skirt walking towards them. She carried a briefcase, her expression as cold as if she had an ice mask on her face, her long black hair tied back in a neat single ponytail, exuding an aura of confident radiance befitting a queen.
Maria Hill, Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D..
Ralph instinctively straightened up and saluted. Hill nodded slightly in response, then pushed open the LCU door and went inside.
In the ward, Lin Xiao was perched on a portable IV stand, holding a half-eaten roasted turkey leg in one hand and gripping the ventilator tube with the other, humming the theme song from SpongeBob SquarePants. When he saw Hill enter, he paused for a moment, then flashed a bright smile.
"Hey, Deputy Director! What brings you here?"
Hill didn't answer. She walked to the bedside, placed her briefcase on the bedside table, unzipped it, and pulled out a thick stack of documents. Then she pulled up a chair, sat down, crossed her legs, opened to the first page of the documents, and began to read.
" Agent Lin Xiao, the following is a record of your violations during this mission. First: Unauthorized media interviews without prior notification, exaggerating personal achievements and causing the spread of false information. Second: Illegal use of superpowers within military-controlled territory, resulting in damage to multiple public facilities. Third: Abusing your position to solicit excessive medical resources from the military—"
She was halfway through reading when she realized Lin Xiao wasn't listening at all.
This bastard was tilting his head, staring intently at her face. The look in his eyes—it wasn't like someone listening to a lecture, but more like someone sitting on a park bench admiring the scenery. Leisurely, content, even with a hint of aesthetic appreciation.
"... What are you looking at?" Hill's voice turned two degrees colder.
" Deputy Director Hill," Lin Xiao put down the chicken leg, wiped his hands with the sheet, and his tone suddenly became very serious, "I've always had a question I wanted to ask you."
"Explain."
"Those freckles on your face, were they there from birth, or did they appear from sun exposure?"
The ward was silent for a full ten seconds.
Hill's fingers tightened slightly at the edge of the document. Her expression remained businesslike and indifferent, but Lin Xiao noticed a very subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth.
" Agent Lin Xiao," Hill's voice was unusually calm, "I'm talking to you about serious business."
"I'm talking business too." Lin Xiao's expression was infuriatingly sincere. "As a subordinate, understanding the leader's physical characteristics is an important way to enhance team cohesion. Director Fury, well, his face makes instant noodles look appetizing, but you're different. Your face—" He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, "—is very worthy of study."
Hill put down the file, crossed his hands on his knees, and stared at Lin Xiao with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Enough," Hill said through gritted teeth.
She turned to the next page of the document, about to continue reading, when the door to the ward was suddenly pushed open. It wasn't Ralph, it wasn't Miller, but an elderly man with gray hair, dressed in a suit, followed by two attendants in similar suits, one carrying a fruit basket and the other holding flowers. The old man had a smile on his face that Lin Xiao recognized very well—the kind of hypocritical, fake smile that villains wear in TV dramas.
The person who came was Alexander Pierce.
Lin Xiao's eyes flickered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He certainly recognized the face—the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D.., the current Secretary-General of the World Security Council, and one of the shareholders of the Hidreleven Group. More importantly, he was Hydra's deepest mole within S.H.I.E.L.D.. Lin Xiao knew perfectly well when he joined S.H.I.E.L.D.. that while the organization outwardly belonged to Fury, it was fundamentally Hydra. He had originally planned to coast along with Fury, waiting for Black Baldy to plug the hole himself, and then he could simply retire as an office worker. But he hadn't expected that old snake Pierce would come knocking on his door ahead of time.
When Pierce walked in, his gaze lingered on Hill for a moment, and he nodded slightly in greeting. Hill had already stood up, her posture upright. " Mr. Pierce."
" Deputy Director Hill," Pierce smiled at her, a smile as kind as that of a retired professor next door, "Thank you for your hard work. I'll just have a few words with Mr. Lin; it won't take long."
Hill glanced at Lin Xiao, his gaze carrying a subtle warning, then picked up the file and retreated to the window, placing his hands folded in front of him, adopting a "I'm just a background character" posture.
Pierce didn't seem to mind. He walked to the bedside, and his attendant placed a fruit basket and flowers on the bedside table before discreetly stepping outside.
"Mr. Lin Xiao." Pierce sat down in the chair Hill had just been sitting in, crossed his hands on his knees, leaned forward slightly, and his expression shifted from a businesslike smile to a concerned elder's. "I'm here on behalf of the Hidreleven Group's board of directors to see you. We heard you were injured at Culver University, and everyone is very worried."
Lin Xiao threw the chicken bone into the trash can, wiped his hands with the bed sheet, and then stretched out his greasy hand, grabbed Pierce's hand, and shook it vigorously. He controlled the force just enough to make an older politician feel pain but not enough to make him feel embarrassed to pull away.
" Mr. Pierce! I'm so sorry you came all this way to see me. I feel so warm inside."
Pierce's smile remained unchanged, but Lin Xiao noticed a very subtle crease at the corner of his eye.
" S.H.I.E.L.D.. has always valued talent." Pierce withdrew his hand, subtly flexing his fingers, then pulled a business card from his suit pocket, placing it on the bedside table. He pressed two fingers on the card but didn't immediately push it away. His tone remained unhurried, as if discussing a trivial matter. "Mr. Lin, your performance in this incident was outstanding. I heard you not only stopped that green monster but also secured a positive public image for S.H.I.E.L.D.. at the press conference. I'm proud of your abilities."
He paused, his gaze falling on Lin Xiao's face, a gentle, appreciative look, the kind of care an elder has for a younger person.
"If you ever need anything in the future, feel free to contact me. I really like this group of positive, responsible newcomers."
He gently pushed the business card half an inch toward Lin Xiao, as if placing a chess piece.
Lin Xiao looked down at the business card. The lettering was gold, the paper thick, and it bore Pierce's name and a phone number. He picked it up, examined it closely, and a flattered smile spread across his face.
" Mr. Pierce, I don't know how to respond to what you're saying. I'm just a roughneck, good for nothing but fighting. You're asking me to take on a big responsibility, I'm afraid I'll break the beam. But don't worry, if there's anything I can help with in the future, just let me know. I may not be good at much else, but I'm strong. Moving things or carrying bags is no problem for me."
This was a perfectly worded statement. It neither refused nor agreed, and didn't even specify when "later." The whole thing translates to: I've received your offer, but I won't send you a reply. Let's keep things polite for now.
Pierce wasn't sure if he genuinely didn't understand or was pretending. He simply smiled, nodded, stood up, and extended his hand to Lin Xiao. This time, Lin Xiao didn't shake his hand forcefully; he just lightly and politely touched it.
"Take good care of yourself." Pierce patted Lin Xiao's hand, then turned to Hill by the window and nodded to her. " Deputy Director Hill, sorry to bother you."
"Goodbye, Mr. Pierce." Hill's voice was as flat as reciting a businesslike line.
Pierce left the ward with two attendants. As the door closed, the attendant carrying the flowers glanced back at Lin Xiao, his eyes filled with scrutiny, as if assessing the value of a commodity. Lin Xiao grinned at him, revealing two rows of bright white teeth. The attendant's expression subtly changed, then he quickly turned and followed Pierce.
The ward fell silent again.
Lin Xiao leaned back on the pillow, turning Pierce's business card over and over in his fingers. Pierce's actions, on the surface, were a gesture of goodwill, while simultaneously offering a rosy promise of future collaboration. It was a perfectly worded offer, and even Fury couldn't find fault with it—he hadn't said he was trying to poach him, just praised the young man's potential and casually left his business card. How Lin Xiao Lin Xiao it was his own business.
But Lin Xiao knew perfectly well that Pierce wasn't there to poach talent, but to establish a connection. Pierce wanted to make himself known to him, plant a seed of "I admire you," and then wait to see when that seed would sprout. If he couldn't make it at S.H.I.E.L.D.. later, or if he fell out with Fury, he would naturally remember this business card. If he continued to work for Fury, Pierce wouldn't have lost anything; he'd only given a fruit basket and a bouquet of flowers. No matter how you looked at it, it was a win-win situation.
That old fox is way more cunning than that old bastard Thaddeus Ross.
Lin Xiao's lips curled into a smile. How interesting!