Chapter 121: Everybody was Kung Fu fighting, those cats were fast as lightning…
—
The Massachusetts Academy's private tarmac gleamed under morning sunlight, all pristine concrete and perfectly maintained aircraft that subtly made a statement of overwhelming wealth.
My eyes fell on the shiny aircraft in front of me. Emma's jet was waiting like a sleeping predator, its sleek white hull reflecting clouds that drifted across an impossibly blue sky.
Somewhere in the distance, a flock of birds scattered across the sky, free in ways I sometimes envied.
I adjusted the strap of my backpack, which contained exactly two changes of clothes, the Chi manual Charmcaster had given me, and a toothbrush. Everything else, apparently, could be acquired with Emma's money.
Kwannon stood a few feet away, her posture perfect as always. She wore practical black clothing that somehow managed to look both hot and deadly. Fitted pants, combat boots, and a jacket that likely concealed at least three weapons. Her purple hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, highlighting the sharp angles of her face.
"Nervous?" she asked without looking at me.
"About flying halfway around the world to hunt down the ghost of an ancient martial artist who may or may not exist? Nah, totally Tuesday for me." I bounced on my heels, scanning the horizon. "Just wondering where-"
A flash of brilliant purple light erupted beside me, the air crackling with magical energy that smelled like ozone and lavender. I didn't even flinch as Charmcaster materialized, her silver hair whipping around her face from the magical winds.
"There she is."
"Ben!" She threw herself at me with unexpected enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around my neck. The scent of her magic clung to her skin, mingling with something earthy and ancient. "I got your message and came as soon as I could."
I returned the hug, surprised by her openness. "Hey, Hope. Glad you could make it."
She pulled back, her unusually colored eyes bright with excitement. "Come on, are you kidding? I've been researching non-stop since we last talked, waiting for when we'll leave." Her smile was wide, genuine in a way I rarely saw from her. "And when I heard Gwen and your grandfather wouldn't be coming, I was so hap-..."
Her voice trailed off as she finally noticed Kwannon standing nearby. The enthusiasm drained from her face, replaced by something cooler and more calculated.
"Oh." She stepped back from me, arms crossing defensively. "I didn't realize we were bringing... company."
Kwannon's expression remained neutral, but I caught the subtle shift in her stance – weight balanced perfectly, ready to move in any direction. "Name's Psylocke," she introduced herself simply, offering no further explanation.
"Charmcaster." Hope's smile didn't reach her eyes. "I assume you're Emma Frost's watchdog? Making sure the precious investment doesn't wander off?"
"Hope," I warned, but Kwannon just raised an eyebrow.
"I'm a cultural liaison with expertise in Chi manipulation and Asian mysticism," she replied, her voice carrying the barest hint of an accent. "But watchdog works too, if you prefer simplicity."
I could practically see the temperature dropping between them.
"What a great atmosphere," I muttered. "This is going to be fun."
Charmcaster turned back to me, lowering her voice. "We don't need a babysitter, Ben. This was supposed to be our expedition." Her fingers brushed against mine, a subtle reminder of what we'd shared. "Just us."
"Ms. Psylocke isn't a babysitter," Emma's voice cut through the tension as she approached from the main building. "She's an asset. One who understands the complex political and mystical landscape you're about to navigate far better than either of you."
Emma looked immaculate as always, her white suit catching the morning light in ways that seemed physically impossible. Her heels clicked against the tarmac with precise rhythm, and her smile held secrets I didn't want to know.
"China's mystical community is ancient, hierarchical, and extremely protective of their traditions," she continued. "Having someone who understands their protocols might be the difference between success and finding yourselves as decorative statues in someone's garden."
I glanced between Charmcaster and Kwannon, feeling the weight of their unspoken competition. "Yep, she's right. That's why we're all going together. As a team."
"How delightful," Charmcaster said with artificial sweetness.
Kwannon remained silent, which somehow felt more ominous.
Emma either didn't notice the tension or, more likely, found it amusing. "A few final details before you depart. My contacts will be monitoring your progress, but don't expect obvious assistance. China's relationship with mutants is... complicated. Best to keep a low profile."
She reached into her jacket and pulled out a sleek black card with a simple frosted emblem. "Frost International. Unlimited spending. Consider it an investment in your education, Benjamin."
The card felt impossibly light in my hand. "Unlimited?"
"...Within reason." Her smile sharpened. "Though my definition of 'reason' is rather flexible."
"This is generous," I said, pocketing the card. "What's the catch? You've been doing a lot for me, Emma." It was about time I brought this up.
Her smile was like honey and butter. "The catch, darling, is that someday I'll ask for a favor." She stepped closer, her perfume wrapping around me like expensive silk. "And when I do, you'll remember this generosity. I know you will."
The pilot appeared at the jet's door, signaling they were ready for departure. Emma stepped back, her expression shifting to something more businesslike.
"Safe travels. Try not to start any international incidents." She paused, reconsidering. "Or at least win them decisively if you do."
As we boarded the jet, I reminded myself that Emma was playing a game several moves ahead of everyone else. The question was whether I was one of the main players or just another piece on her board.
Inside, the jet was exactly what you'd expect from Emma Frost. Luxurious without being gaudy, and every surface designed for both comfort and subtle intimidation. Charmcaster immediately claimed the seat beside mine, while Kwannon took one across the aisle, giving us space but remaining within earshot.
The dynamic was awkward but functional. It would have to do. I enjoyed Hope's presence and how she hugged my arm, beginning to yap about something I didn't know much about.
As the jet accelerated down the runway, I watched Massachusetts fall away beneath us. Leaving the country for such a journey made me wonder…
Would finding this Iron Fist spirit actually help me master Chi? Or was I chasing yet another powerful being who'd leave me with more questions than answers?
I guess we'd find out soon enough.
****
Shanghai hit all five senses at once.
The humid air clung to my skin like a second layer as we stepped out of the air-conditioned comfort of Emma's jet.
Distant spices and cooking oils mingled with vehicle exhaust and the unmistakable scent of millions of people living in proximity. The skyline was a contradiction, with ancient temples and gardens juxtaposed against gleaming skyscrapers that seemed to defy both gravity and taste. Everything vibrated with an energy that felt both chaotic and precisely orchestrated.
"This way," Charmcaster said, consulting a small compass-like device that glowed with purple energy. "I'm sensing a concentration of spiritual energy about two miles northeast."
We'd changed into more casual clothes to blend in, though 'blending in' was relative when your group included a silver-haired sorceress and a purple-haired assassin. It was time for a change of clothes, anyway. I wore khaki pants and a black tee with a green line in the middle, the iconic Omniverse one.
[Language Scanning Done.]
A few minutes of walking through the buzzing Mandarin-speaking people, the Omnitrix suddenly beeped in my ears.
[Live translation available.]
Suddenly I could understand everything being spoken around me. My eyes snapped to a mother guiding her son to school.
"Stop whining, Xiao Ming. When you return, I'll cook your favourite."
Neat. I was wondering where this translation feature was. After a short taxi ride through streets that seemed to operate on traffic laws from another dimension, we found ourselves standing before an unassuming building tucked between modern shops.
The weathered sign read "Heaven's Dew Pavilion" in both Chinese characters and English.
"This is it?" I asked, eyeing the place skeptically. The entrance looked like every tourist-trap tea house I'd ever seen, complete with decorative dragons and stylized clouds. "Seems a bit... obvious."
"The obvious hiding place," Kwannon said quietly. "Often the most effective."
Charmcaster's compass pulsed brighter. "There's significant magical energy here, disguised by layered wards. This isn't just a tea house."
I raised an eyebrow. "So what is it?"
Her eyes met mine, excitement dancing in them. "Only one way to find out."
As we stepped inside, the transition was subtle but unmistakable. The air shifted from Shanghai's humid heat to something drier, charged with energy that made my skin tingle. The sounds of traffic faded, replaced by the gentle melody of traditional string instruments. The scent of jasmine tea and sandalwood incense filled my nostrils.
But it wasn't the sensory shift that caught my attention. It was the clientele.
At first glance, they looked like ordinary people enjoying tea – businessmen, tourists, locals. But if you knew what to look for, the signs were everywhere. An elderly man whose teacup never emptied. A young woman who hadn't visibly breathed since we entered. Two men in business suits discussing "meridian breakthroughs" and "spiritual enlightenment" as casually as stock prices.
"It's a gathering place for chi masters and cultivators," Kwannon murmured, her voice betraying a hint of surprise. "Disguised as a tourist attraction."
Cultivators? That's crazy. I wondered how similar these words were to the Cultivators I'd read about in Xianxia Novels, or if it was just a fancy word for 'meditators.'
"Hiding in plain sight," I said. "Smart."
A server approached, bowing slightly. "Welcome to Heaven's Dew Pavilion. May I show you to a table?"
We were seated near a window overlooking an interior garden that seemed far too large to fit within the building's apparent dimensions. Space-bending magic, probably. The table itself was ancient wood that felt warm to the touch, almost alive.
"Order the jasmine tea," Kwannon suggested. "It's considered respectful."
As we settled in, I noticed the subtle ways the other patrons were observing us. Not staring, but rather taking in details through peripheral vision or reflected surfaces. Assessing. Cataloging. Deciding if we were threats, opportunities, or simply curiosities.
Charmcaster leaned forward, her voice low. "This place operates on multiple levels of reality simultaneously. The upper floors probably don't even exist in normal space."
"Like the Ancient One's Sanctum?" I asked.
"Similar principle, different execution. Eastern mysticism has its own rules."
Our tea arrived, served in simple ceramic cups that were deceptively delicate. As I took my first sip, the liquid seemed to warm me from the inside out, a gentle heat that traveled through my chest and spread along pathways that matched the diagrams in my Chi manual.
"This isn't just tea," I whispered, feeling the energy circulating within me.
"Spirit-infused," Kwannon confirmed, watching me over the rim of her cup. "It enhances natural Chi flow. Common in places like this, though usually reserved for recognized practitioners."
"So they already know why we're here," Charmcaster concluded.
Before we could discuss further, a man approached our table. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, with sharp features and watchful eyes that seemed older than his face. He wore simple modern clothing, but his posture and the calluses on his hands told a different story.
"Forgive the intrusion," he said in perfect English. "I couldn't help but notice newcomers. We don't get many Western visitors who can perceive the true nature of this establishment."
I nodded politely. "Just passing through. Learning as we go."
"Learning." He smiled slightly. "An admirable pursuit. I am Lin Lie." He didn't offer a hand to shake, instead giving a subtle bow.
Lin Lie, Lin Lie, where have I heard that name before? I hummed as I searched my memories. Ah shit, Lin Lie the Sword Master? I recalled.
I only knew him because I'd gotten addicted to the game, Marvel Rivals, at one point in my previous life. This young man was destined to become the next Iron Fist. What was he doing here?
"Ben," I replied, following Kwannon's lead and returning the bow. "These are my friends, Hope and Kwannon."
Lin Lie's eyes lingered on each of us, his gaze particularly confused when it came to the Omnitrix on my wrist. For a practitioner of Chi, was a watch that held the life-codes of a million species bizarre to look at?
"Nice to meet you all. I'm here on my Sect business," he said casually, though the words carried weight. "This table is usually reserved for members of the celestial lineages, such as me and my friends. So perhaps you might find the window seats more comfortable?"
It was a polite dismissal wrapped in courtesy. Testing us.
I didn't miss the light behind his eyes, which made me pause to consider the repercussions of destroying this spiritual teahouse.
**
**
**