As the morning light crept in through the cracks in the ruins, it shone on Ye Mo's face as he sat against the wall, his left hand opening and closing, the cracks mostly healed, but the Regeneration system was still twitching intermittently, like a video that had been stuck. He didn't move or speak, just listening to his own breathing mixed with the sound of dripping water in the distance.
Captain America stood in the doorway, his jacket draped over his shoulder, a half-deflated tactical bag in his hand. He glanced at the four people inside; none of them looked listless, leaning against something, like human-shaped ornaments that had just been spun around in a washing machine.
"It's not a big place, but the roof doesn't leak," he said. "It provides shelter from the wind and allows me to breathe."
Ye Mo looked up at him and grinned, "Better than sleeping under a bridge."
Black Widow pulled several bottles of energy drinks from her bag; the aluminum casings were still intact, and most of the labels were worn away. Without a word, she handed them out one by one. Bucky paused for a moment when taking one, staring at the bottle for two seconds before slowly unscrewing it.
Emma Frost sat in the corner, the Diamond Form gone, her face still as white as paper. She didn't take it until Ye Mo gently placed the last bottle beside her lap.
"Get some sugar," he said. " Diamond Form consumes a ton of power; you're probably having trouble even toasting bread right now."
She looked up at him, her lips twitched, but she didn't say anything; instead, she reached out her hand.
Captain America raised the bottle and said in a low voice, "To those who didn't fall."
No one shouted slogans, and no one clinked glasses. The five of them just sat, stood, and leaned against each other, each taking a sip. As the liquid slid down their throats, it felt as if a thread had been pulled from their throats to their hearts, stitching up the tension that had been on the verge of breaking.
Bucky put down the bottle and suddenly spoke, "The last assassin... when he lunged at the terminal, you rushed out."
Ye Mo was licking the lingering sweetness around the bottle opening when he heard this and almost choked. "Huh? My foot slipped."
"You're between him and the detonator." Captain America looked at him. "I didn't have time to call a halt—but I trust you can handle this."
Ye Mo's fingers stiffened.
He kept his head down, the shadow of his hat covering his eyes, and only a couple of dry laughs could be heard. "The system is warning of 'danger ahead,' what can I do? I can't just let it go to waste."
"But you chose to move forward," Emma Frost suddenly said.
Everyone fell silent for a moment.
She leaned against the wall, her voice soft but not averted. "I saw it... you hesitated. Your steps faltered for half a second, your heart raced, your muscles tensed. But you still rushed out." Her gaze swept over the others. "This trust wasn't given by the system; it was your own choice."
Ye Mo didn't look up.
He unconsciously touched the crack on his left arm with his right hand; it had already begun to scab over. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something like, "Hey, don't get all sentimental, it's giving me goosebumps," but he swallowed the words back.
In the end, he just smiled, a smile that was both bitter and soft.
"Fine," he said, "I guess I acted impulsively today."
Upon hearing his words, Black Widow suddenly flicked her wrist, and the empty bottle flew towards Emma Frost.
Emma Frost instinctively reached out and caught it, her movements swift and precise, without even changing her posture. The two stared at each other for a second, exchanging no more than a glance, yet the coldness in the air seemed to dissipate in the wind.
Watching this scene, Ye Mo couldn't help but click his tongue and say, "Women's communication is truly concise and efficient."
Bucky rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
"I'm serious." Ye Mo turned to look at him. "Look at you two, one throws the bottle, the other catches it, and you don't even have to say a word. Unlike us, we have to raise our hands to vote on whether to fight before we even start—didn't we agree on that rule I suggested last time?"
"You said 'whoever starts eats first, pays'?" Bucky sneered. "You still haven't paid for the barbecue."
"Isn't that perfect?" Ye Mo slapped his thigh. "We won today, it's on me! And let's celebrate our Winter Soldier Soldier's ability to smile again—though right now it looks like he has a toothache."
Bucky glared at him, but wasn't really angry. He looked down at his robotic arm; the cooling fan had long since stopped, and the metal surface was covered in dust and bloodstains, but his fist-clenching motion was much smoother now.
"I'm not a machine anymore," he said softly.
Captain America stood next to him, without saying anything profound, simply placing his hand on his shoulder. It was light, but steady enough.
The atmosphere in the room gradually relaxed. No one mentioned Hydra anymore, nor did anyone talk about the mole, the agreement, or the Scavengers. Those things were in the past; at least for now, they didn't have to bear it.
Ye Mo leaned back against the box and sat down in the corner, then casually grabbed a new bottle and handed it to Emma Frost. This time, she didn't refuse; she took it and drank it in small sips, as if afraid of choking.
"You know what?" he said, "My biggest dream used to be to graduate without failing any courses and for the cafeteria's braised pork to stay at a reasonable price. Now, I'm fighting with crazy people for computers every day, and I have to watch out for people jumping off the ventilation ducts."
Emma Frost glanced at him. "Regretful?"
"It's not that bad." He shrugged. "Although the road construction fees are almost eating up my salary, but..." He looked around, seeing Captain America standing in the center whispering to Bucky, and Black Widow playing with a dagger, the blade dancing between her fingers. "These guys are pretty reliable. Much better than my college roommates; at least they won't steal my instant noodles."
Emma Frost smiled.
It wasn't a fleeting smile; it was a genuine laugh. The corners of his mouth turned up, the corners of his eyes curved slightly, and even his pale face seemed to brighten for a moment.
"Do you remember the first time you met me?" she said. "You were dressed like an internet cafe manager and said I was 'cool with Telepathy and suggested I become a relationship counselor.'"
"Did I say that?" Ye Mo feigned ignorance. "Oh, maybe the system prompted me to say that."
"You don't even have a system," Black Widow suddenly interrupted, without looking up. "I checked your file number; it's all blank. You're a self-taught individual, the kind nobody cares about."
Ye Mo coughed twice. "Ahem... Well, this is a highly classified project, codenamed ' Mr. X,' and it's still in the testing phase."
"You chose that codename yourself, didn't you?" Bucky sneered.
"The key point is that it's legal!" Ye Mo confidently. "And I have a work badge now, even though it's handwritten."
Captain America walked over, tossed the empty bottle into the bucket with a clang. "Whether there's a system or not," he said, "You're here because we trust you."
Ye Mo opened his mouth, but in the end just scratched the back of his head. "Oh, Captain, if you keep saying that, I'm going to cry."
"Don't cry," Black Widow said coldly. "If you cry, you'll have to mop the floor."
"The floor wasn't clean to begin with," Ye Mo muttered, "And I suspect this house used to have a cat."
"There's no cat," Emma Frost said casually, "But someone did cook instant noodles here three months ago, and the smell seeped into the walls."
Ye Mo was shocked. "You can smell this?"
"Mental scan comes with Sensory Enhancement." She glanced at him. "By the way, the chive pancake you ate yesterday is still fermenting in your stomach."
"Wow." Ye Mo clutched his chest. "That's so real, not very hurtful, but extremely insulting."
The crowd chuckled softly.
The laughter wasn't loud, even a little hoarse from exhaustion, but it genuinely echoed around the dilapidated house. No one laughed so hard they were doubled over, no one slammed their fists on the table in celebration, but the ease was real—they had survived, together.
Ye Mo leaned against the box, his hat brim pulled low, obscuring most of his face. But the corners of his mouth were turned up, and he never let them down.
Black Widow sheathed her dagger, walked to the control panel, and scanned the entire area. Her vigilance hadn't completely subsided, but the tension between her brows had eased. She looked towards Emma Frost, who was also gazing in the team's direction, her eyes unusually gentle.
Captain America and Bucky were still talking in hushed tones when the conversation somehow drifted to old World War II movies. Bucky said the plot of a certain movie was absurd, while Captain America insisted that a classic is a classic. The two argued without getting red in the face or out of breath, and instead, they seemed to have a long-lost familiarity with each other.
As Ye Mo listened, he suddenly felt that the Regeneration stinging pain in his left arm wasn't so unbearable anymore.
He moved his fingers, picked up the remaining bottle of drink on the table, shook it gently, and heard the sound of the liquid sloshing around inside.
Then he looked up at Emma Frost, who was sitting in the corner.
She was looking at him too.
Neither of them spoke.
He simply raised the bottle as if to toast her.
She nodded slightly in response.
Outside, it was fully light. Sunlight slanted into the window frame, drawing a bright line on the ground. Dust particles floated slowly in the beam of light, like a silent snowfall.
Ye Mo pushed his hat back, revealing his entire face.
He stopped joking and telling jokes.
I just sat there, looking at this group of people, and somewhere in my heart, a lock quietly closed.