I'm finding it hard to handle the combined workload of my main job and part-time work.
Especially since my original job was changed to the night shift.
This is a bit tricky; I just woke up.
I'll be giving everyone an extra chapter as compensation later. I'm currently writing it and it should be uploaded in about an hour.
Strange's training officially began the next morning. Lynn led him to an open space in the corner of the training ground, where there were no other trainee mages, only a few old trees and a stone wall cratered from countless magical practice sessions.
"Tell me what you were thinking about after you went back yesterday." Lynn leaned against the stone wall.
Strange stood opposite him, his hands hanging at his sides, his fingertips still trembling slightly. He was silent for a moment, then spoke, "I was thinking about what you said, that magic is the source code that shapes reality. If it's a program, then it must have underlying logic. It has inputs, outputs, and quantifiable causal relationships. If I could understand its operating rules..."
"You think you can control it?"
Lynn picked up the conversation, her tone neither cold nor encouraging, "Didn't you think the same way when you were performing surgery? That once you understood human anatomy and mastered nerve pathways, you could control everything on the operating table?"
"... yes."
"That's bullshit, that's what you really think?"
Strange's lips twitched, but he didn't refute.
Lynn looked at him and shook his head slightly. He straightened up from the stone wall, walked to Strange, raised his right hand, and spread his five fingers slightly. Pale golden light flowed from his fingertips, weaving into a simple and clear rune pattern in mid-air.
It has a circular outer ring and several intersecting straight lines inside, with a simple structure.
"This is the most basic magical resonance rune in Kamar-Taj. Its function is not to cast any spells, but simply to allow you to sense the presence of dimensional energy. It's like..."
He thought for a moment, then put it in a way that Strange could understand more easily, "It's like when you used to listen to your heartbeat with a stethoscope. You're not trying to change the heartbeat, you're just listening. Do you understand?"
Strange stared at the golden rune floating in mid-air, took a deep breath, and then raised his still trembling right hand, trying to mimic Lynn's earlier movement. His fingers clumsily traced a few lines in the air, but nothing happened.
"You're using too much force with your fingers. Did your fingers get this stiff when you used to hold a scalpel?"
"No," Strange gritted his teeth, "But I'm..."
You're afraid now. Afraid you can't do it, afraid you really can't go back.
Lynn's tone was devoid of any sympathy, "But magic doesn't care whether you're afraid or not. It only responds to your will, not your fear."
One more time. Relax your fingers, don't try to control it. Let it flow on its own.
Strange closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, slowly and deliberately relaxed each finger, and then raised his hand again.
This time, his movements were no longer stiff; the arc his fingertips traced in the air was more natural than before. Then he saw it. A very faint golden wisp of light flickered briefly where his fingertips had touched, like the instant a match is struck, before dissipating into the air.
He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands.
"I..."
"You did it." Lynn deactivated the magic circle, his tone finally shifting from teasing to a subtle, almost imperceptible, acknowledgment.
To be able to create a visible resonance of magic on the very first attempt—such a talent is rare to find even in the entire Kamar-Taj.
Strange looked down at his still slightly trembling fingers and remained silent for a long while.
"Why did you just say 'don't try to control it'? If I don't control it, how am I supposed to use it?"
Lynn didn't answer directly. He picked up a withered yellow leaf from the ground and placed it in his palm. A gentle breeze blew through the courtyard, and the leaf swayed softly in his palm, but he didn't close his fingers. The leaf was blown by the wind and spun around in his palm, its edge just touching the base of his fingers, before settling back down steadily.
"You see, I didn't catch it. I just gave it a platform and let it choose where to land. If I tried to grab it with my hand, it would shatter with the slightest force. Magic is the same; you can't control it, you can only guide it. Controlling it means you're using your will to fight against the flow of energy itself; guiding it means you're reaching some kind of understanding with the energy."
Strange remained silent for a long time. He looked at the withered leaf in Lynn's palm, but ultimately said nothing.
The training content for the next few days was roughly the same. Every morning, Lynn took Strange to the training ground to practice basic magical resonance—starting from steadily making the first ray of golden light appear at his fingertips, to being able to maintain a small rune for more than three seconds, and then to expanding the rune to two or three. Strange's progress was far faster than that of ordinary apprentices, but he would still subconsciously frown and stare at his hands every time he failed, as if sensing when they would return to their original state.
Lynn's teaching style was also very casual. Most of the time he would just lean against the wall and watch, occasionally speaking up to correct one or two movements, but most of the time he would be drinking tea, flipping through books, or texting Natasha. But every time he spoke, he could pinpoint Strange's mistakes precisely.
Do you know what you look like right now?
One afternoon after training, Lynn suddenly spoke up, "Like an intern who has just learned to hold a scalpel, eager to perform brain surgery. You haven't even grasped the basic laws of energy flow, yet you're thinking about how to use it to heal your hand. This isn't genius, this is greed."
Strange didn't refute. He sat on a stone bench by the training field, his hands resting on his knees, looking down at his ten fingers, which were still trembling slightly. "Before, if I wanted to learn, there was nothing I couldn't learn. But now, I do the most basic exercises every day, yet I still can't maintain a small rune stably. I can't even do the most basic magical resonance, let alone heal my hand. This sense of frustration hurts me more than a failed surgery."
"A failed surgery is a one-time thing. A failed magic spell can be redone."
Lynn sat down beside him, her tone softening slightly. "When you were performing surgery, one failure meant the patient might die on the operating table, with no second chance. So you forced yourself not to fail, getting used to every move having to be perfect. But magic isn't surgery. You can fail a thousand times; as long as you succeed on the thousand and first, the previous thousand are just practice. Your problem isn't that you can't learn, it's that you're too impatient. Let go of that obsession with 'I must be perfect right now,' and you'll free yourself from your own limitations."
In the evening, he would return to his room and lean against the windowsill to make a video call to Natasha. This was one of the few times he could relax each day.
The call came quickly today. On the screen, Natasha was nestled on the sofa, flipping through a travel guide, her hair casually pulled back. "How was today's lesson?"
"Not bad. Of course, he's far worse than me." Lynn leaned her phone against the water glass on the table and leaned back in her chair. "But his problems are still too obvious: he's too eager to succeed, too eager to prove himself."
"You sound like you're enjoying this. Didn't you always say you wanted to find a student similar to Tony to torment?"
I wasn't torturing him, I was educating him!
Lynn corrected him sternly, "But to be honest, his talent is indeed very high."
Natasha gave a soft hum, clearly not believing his "educational" rhetoric.
Then she closed the manual, leaned back on the sofa armrest, and began to chat with him in a relaxed tone about recent trivial matters concerning SSC.
Peter crashed into the crash barrier again in the training area, this time damaging even the ceiling. Tony made him write a self-criticism, which he actually submitted in a 3,000-word written report, complete with references and force analysis diagrams.
" Peter need to cite references and add force diagrams when writing his self-criticism?"
Lynn laughed out loud, "What's the reference? ' Spider-Man's Self-Cultivation'?"
"Pretty much. He cited data from his previous crash into the crash barrier to prove that the angle of this impact was somewhat optimized compared to the last one."
Natasha's lips curled into a slight smile. " Tony was silent for a while after reading it, then said, 'When you become a full member, I'll read it aloud in its entirety at your induction ceremony.'"
Lynn laughed so hard she almost fainted.
They chatted for a while longer until night had completely fallen in Kathmandu outside the window, with only the occasional bark of a dog and the tinkling of a bell in the distance. In Natasha's New York, it was still early; sunlight streamed through the French windows onto the living room floor, casting a pale golden outline on her profile. She asked him if he had eaten well in Kamar-Taj and if he planned to secretly use the portal back to New York. He said he would return tomorrow.
He really did go back the next afternoon. It wasn't anything urgent; he just felt he should go back. The portal opened in the center of the living room of the penthouse apartment. Natasha was sitting on the sofa looking at documents. She looked up at him and merely raised an eyebrow slightly. "Not back until tonight?"
"I missed you." Lynn walked over and sat down next to her. "Are you busy today?"
"Thankfully, the background check reports for the new recruits are almost finished. The rest will be handed over to Coulson."
Lynn leaned back on the sofa, placed her hand on her knee, and gently squeezed her knuckles.
The two of them leaned against the sofa and chatted idly.
The afternoon sun from New York streamed into the living room through the window, bathing the floor in a warm golden light.
Half an hour later, he returned to Kamar-Taj. When he pushed open the wooden door next to the stone wall of the training ground, Strange was practicing alone. Three small runes floated in front of him, each slowly rotating. Lynn leaned against the stone wall and watched for a while before speaking.
"Your runes are much more stable now. Next, I'll teach you something new."
Strange retracted the rune and turned to look at him. "What?"
"Use a portal."
Lynn raised his hand and drew a circle in the air. Orange sparks burst forth, and a rotating portal opened beside him, leading to Strange's cabin.
The spark subsided, and he drew another one, this time the other side of the portal was the other end of the training field. The way he drew the portal was the same as everything else he did: casual, precise, and without any unnecessary movements.
"You give it a try. Wear the Sling Ring, and you've mastered basic magical resonance. The portal doesn't require more skill, but rather your perception of energy flow. Feel the direction the energy flows through your fingertips. Remember, don't try to control it, guide it. You're not having the command space open for you; you're requesting it."
Strange raised his left hand, which was adorned with Sling Ring, and awkwardly drew circles in the air with his fingers.
Nothing happened.
He tried again. Still nothing. His brows furrowed slightly. He drew the third circle very slowly, his fingertips tracing such a precise, forceful, and meticulously perfect path through the air.
Lynn gently shook his head, stepped forward, and gently placed his hand on Strange's shoulder. "Relax. When you were performing surgery, did patients die if you pressed too hard with your fingers?"
"Meeting."
"If you press your finger so hard now, the portal will die too."
Lynn released her grip and took a step back. "You're asking the space to make way for you."
Strange closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
A tiny, faint orange spark appeared in the air, like a match that had just been lit and then blown out by the wind.
"That's progress," Lynn said, leaning against the stone wall.
That's all for today. Think carefully about what 'guidance' means." After he finished speaking, he raised his hand and drew a circle, and a portal opened behind him, leading to the living room of a New York apartment. Natasha was cutting fruit at the island counter. Hearing the noise, she looked up and raised an eyebrow slightly at Lynn.
Is today's lesson over?
"Um."
Lynn stepped into the portal, and the sparks receded behind him.
"He's finally starting to let go of his old preconceived notions."
He walked to the edge of the island, took a slice of apple from her hand, and popped it into his mouth. "Do you know how hard it is to get him to give up control? But the moment he realized that all his brute force was fighting against the energy itself, it was all worth it."
Natasha shook her head slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You men are really strange."
She put the sliced apples into a plate, placed it on the coffee table in the living room, then leaned back on the sofa armrest, looking at him with a relaxed posture, "Come here."
Lynn walked over and sat down beside her. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest and closing her eyes. "You spent several days in Kamar-Taj, how long are you staying this time?"
"Stay for the night." Lynn rested his chin on her head, smelling the faint scent of shampoo in her hair.
The sky outside the window in New York had already darkened, and the lights of the barges on the Hudson River moved slowly.
Natasha leaned against him, her eyes closed, her breathing even and steady.
Lynn looked down at her; her eyelashes trembled slightly in the dim light, and the corners of her mouth still held the lingering smile from their earlier conversation.
He reached out and tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, his fingertips gently tracing down her earlobe and landing on her shoulder.
" Natasha," he whispered to her.
She didn't open her eyes, but simply gave a soft "hmm".
Are you sleepy?
"A little." Her voice was slightly languid and husky. "I spent the whole day organizing files."
Lynn didn't answer. He looked at her profile, at her eyes closed as she leaned on his shoulder, her hair, still damp from her shower, gleaming softly in the dim light.
He remembered those days in Kathmandu, when they video chatted every night, and she would lean against the sofa like this, sometimes falling asleep in the middle of the conversation, her phone still in her hand, the New York night view on the other side of the screen and her breathing coming through. Back then, he was separated by a screen; now, she was in his arms.
He suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up in his arms. Natasha struggled slightly in his embrace, opened her eyes, and her gray-blue pupils held a mixture of bewilderment from just being awakened and a sense of helplessness that she had long been accustomed to.
What are you doing?
"Go back to the bedroom." Lynn looked down at her, a mischievous smile impossible to hide. "Sleeping on the sofa will easily cause a stiff neck."
You have work tomorrow, how can I let you go to the meeting with a stiff neck?
"I'm not sleepy anymore." Natasha reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingertips gently tugging at the back of his collar, her tone laced with a hint of languid reproach, "Were you peeking at me just now?"
"No. I'm watching openly and honestly."
Natasha gave a soft hum and buried her face in his chest.
He carried her through the hallway and pushed open the bedroom door with his back.
The New York night outside the window peeked in through the gap in the curtains. He gently placed Natasha on the bed, and she reached out and pulled him down a little by his collar. Her grey-blue eyes looked especially gentle in the dim light.
"You've been in Kamar-Taj for so many days, don't you have anything to say to me?"
"I've said everything I wanted to say. There's something else—" He lowered his head and whispered something in her ear.
The New York night unfolded quietly outside the window, and the lights of the barges on the Hudson River moved slowly. Only the intertwined breathing of the two people remained in the bedroom, along with the occasional low chuckle that drifted from under the covers.
The following 148 chapters (4000 words) are omitted.