New York, six months later. The scars from the Battle of New York were fading—construction cranes dotted the skyline, new steel and glass rising where rubble once lay. The streets still pulsed with their usual energy, taxis honking, crowds flowing like human rivers. In Mei's apartment, Hong Fei had once again convinced her to play hooky from work.
He stood by the bedroom window gazing at the distant skyline. Behind him, Mei sat cross-legged with closed eyes, an invisible energy radiating from her body that made the air shimmer. When she finally opened her eyes, wonder sparkled in them.
"This feels incredible."
"Make time to practice daily from now on."
Hong Fei turned, hands clasped behind his back.
"Not just for self-defense. It slows aging too—tighter skin, smoother complexion."
The first part barely registered, but at the mention of youthful skin, Mei's fingers flew to her cheeks.
"Really? Even wrinkles? I swear I'm getting crow's feet already."
"Absolutely. Just keep at it."
His expression held perfect sincerity. Time had indeed begun tracing its lines across Mei's face, but those were trivial matters. The Dragon King could restore her youth a dozen ways—for now, he needed her committed to daily qi practice.
Truthfully, qi wasn't the miracle cure he'd made it out to be. If it were, the leaders of The Hand wouldn't resemble walking mummies. But it did have mild rejuvenating effects. Later, when he employed more potent methods to reverse her aging, he'd let her credit the "qi cultivation."
As Spider-Man's family, danger shadowed their every step. The simplest solution would be steering Peter Parker off his superhero path entirely—no Spider-Man, no collateral damage. But if Peter never took that leap, would he remain the boy Hong Fei knew?
Bah. If the kid wanted to play hero, let him. For Mei's sake, the mighty Dragon King could stomach playing guardian angel to one overeager teenager.
Noon sunlight slanted through kitchen curtains as they washed dishes hip-to-hip, trading kisses between soapy plates. The front door burst open with a clatter.
"I'm home!"
Peter's voice echoed down the hall.
"Whoa, apple pie smells amaz—" His sneakers squeaked to a halt. There stood Hong Fei wrapped around Mei from behind, their hands interlaced around a dishrag. Time froze.
Another set of footsteps scuffed at the doorway. A round-faced boy peeked in, eyes darting between the trio. He gulped.
"Uh...Peter? Should I...?"
"You're already inside, Ned."
Peter's voice cracked.
"I could leave?" Ned offered.
"No! Just—just go to my room. Now."
Peter herded him away, shooting nervous glances over his shoulder. Once Ned was safely sequestered, Peter crept back to the kitchen threshold.
The adults had disentangled themselves. Mei's cheeks burned scarlet while Hong Fei leaned casually against the counter.
"Early day at school, kid?"
Peter's smile twitched like a faulty circuit. His eyes kept jumping between them, questions practically vibrating off him.
"Yep," Hong Fei said before Peter could speak. "Exactly what you're thinking. Got anything to say about it?"
The initial shock faded from Peter's face, replaced by dawning excitement. His eyes lit up like Christmas lights.
Mei had already turned away. Peter blinked his wide eyes, his voice trembling with excitement.
"Sir... is this real?"
"You saw it with your own eyes," Hong Fei replied. "Though seeing isn't always believing, what just happened was very real."
"Yeah! That's amazing!"
The boy suddenly erupted in cheers, pumping his fists before dashing around the room in exhilaration.
Mei nudged Hong Fei sharply, keeping her voice low.
"Why'd you tell him?"
"He saw everything."
"You could've made up an explanation."
"Kid's young, not stupid."
Hong Fei smirked as Mei rolled her eyes at him.
She glanced at Peter, who was now whooping in the living room.
"Are you going to tell him who you really are?"
"Not yet. And don't mention anything about Qi either."
"Why not?"
Hong Fei's answer came without hesitation.
"He's still a child. Let him go to school in peace, live his own life comfortably first."
Because that comfort wouldn't last forever. Peter didn't know what trials awaited him. For now, he deserved to stay carefree. Mei considered this, then nodded in understanding.
"You're right. This is best. I hope he can always stay this happy."
Later, Hong Fei sat across from Peter in the living room.
"Aren't you going to check on your friend? He's still locked in your room."
Peter shook his head.
"Ned's fine. He never gets bored."
"Alright."
Hong Fei studied the boy's fidgeting hands.
"You've got questions. Just ask—no need to hesitate."
Peter turned slightly, lifting his chin with sudden seriousness.
"Should I call you Uncle now?"
"No. Don't."
Hong Fei's refusal came too fast.
"Why not?"
Hong Fei ruffled the boy's hair.
"No reason I can explain right now. You'll understand when you're older."
Definitely not because he feared the cosmic repercussions of that particular title.
Peter's lower lip jutted out.
"I'm twelve already!"
"Twelve isn't grown. You've got a few years yet."
"Why's that?"
Hong Fei rolled his eyes.
"Like I said, you're still—"
Peter ducked away from the hand on his head, stomping toward his bedroom. At the doorway, he spun back.
"Speak," Hong Fei prompted.
"Can I see you often?"
"Yes."
"Can I come to you with problems?"
"Anytime."
"Will you go to my parent-teacher conferences?"
"Sure."
"Then—"
Hong Fei raised a hand.
"Enough questions, Peter. Remember this—no matter what happens, you come to me. Anything at all."
The boy's grin could've powered a city block.
"Okay!"
Arthur's voice crackled in Hong Fei's earpiece moments later. He stood abruptly, offering quick goodbyes. Once clear of the residence, he launched skyward.
The white dragon materialized through cloud cover, serpentine body undulating toward him. It pressed its massive head against Hong Fei's palm as he stroked between its opalescent scales. Dragon Power flowed from his fingertips, drawing a pleased shudder from the beast.
Hong Fei turned and landed on the dragon's back, and the white dragon immediately banked southward. New Jersey's abandoned Lehigh Camp awaited—the same grounds where a scrawny Steve Rogers had once taken his first soldier's steps.
The abandoned military camp was where he first crossed paths with British Agent Peggy Carter, here as a consultant. Hong Fei stepped off the dragon's back into open air, plummeting earthward. At the last possible moment, his momentum vanished—one second falling, the next standing perfectly still on the weed-choked parade ground.
Golden hour light bathed the derelict base in sepia tones. After scanning the perimeter, Hong Fei made for a reinforced concrete structure. His boot connected with the metal door in a vicious kick. The lock sheared clean through as both doors smashed against the interior walls, stirring up decades of dust.
Inside, metal stairs led downward to a cavernous underground facility. Ceiling lights still burned bright over orderly rows of tables and chairs. At the far wall, a faded circular emblem hung slightly askew. The design had changed over time, but Hong Fei recognized it instantly—S.H.I.E.L.D.'s insignia.
Black-and-white portraits of Strategic Scientific Reserve veterans lined the corridor: Chester Phillips, Howard Stark, Peggy Carter among them. His exploration led to an unremarkable office where two empty cabinets swung open at his touch, revealing an elevator with a combination lock.
Arthur's voice piped up.
"I can bypass the security, sir."
"Won't be needing that."
Hong Fei's palm strike shattered the elevator doors. Red alarm lights flared as the car plummeted down its shaft. Without hesitation, he leapt after it, watching steel cables whip past until a thunderous crash signaled the car's impact below.
He tore through the elevator roof like tissue paper, dropping into the facility's deepest sanctum. Motion-activated lights revealed rows of server racks and vintage computer equipment. Approaching the largest monitor, Hong Fei called out, "Arthur."
"Present, sir."
"Want to live?"
"I comprehend the concept of life, sir, but not the intent behind your question."
"Simple. Upgrade your intelligence. Get you a real body."
The AI's response came after a noticeable delay.
"I would... very much like that."
Hong Fei nodded, slotting Big Head's prepared flash drive into the console.
This ancient computer immediately started up, and the camera on the side began to rotate. Yet minutes ticked by without response. Hong Fei folded his arms.
"Arnim Zola. Still playing games? You know exactly who I am."