"Xialing! I'm hurt—help me fix it!!"
Zhuang rushed forward with a pitiful expression, clutching his dislocated arm as he pleaded with Xialing.
She rolled her eyes helplessly. She already knew what had happened, but still reached out and snapped his arm back into place.
"When did you start running with the Avengers, Xu Shangqi?"
People like Xialing, who operated in the gray areas, disliked so-called superheroes the most. In her eyes, they were hypocrites—fighting for justice on the surface while hiding plenty of ugliness underneath.
"It's not that I joined them—they came to me. Because of Dad."
Shangqi pressed an ice pack against his face. Even though Xialing had held back that last kick, it still left a red mark.
"This place is yours?"
Natasha sat on the sofa while Barton casually scanned the room. Sam, meanwhile, was sipping a large cup of cola he had grabbed while watching the fight earlier.
"That's right. I run this place."
Xialing glanced at Natasha, a spark of battle intent flashing in her eyes. As a fellow fighter, she naturally wanted to test herself against her.
"What do you want?"
Suppressing that urge, she turned back to Shangqi—her brother who had disappeared for years.
"The Ten Rings ambushed me in New York."
"I saw the video."
Her tone was indifferent.
"They took my necklace…"
Xialing's gaze immediately dropped to his neck. Sure enough, the green pendant was gone.
Instinctively, she touched the identical pendant hanging around her own neck. Their mother had given them one each.
"I think… their next target is you."
Shangqi looked worried. "I don't know what Dad is planning, but knowing him—it can't be anything good."
Xialing sat down slowly, ignoring him, and instead spoke to Natasha.
"Do you know the last thing he said to me?"
Natasha raised an eyebrow. According to SHIELD's intel, Wenwu had two children. The son left early, while the daughter stayed with him until she grew up.
"He said, 'Wait three days. I'll come back for you.'"
Xialing let out a self-mocking laugh.
"So I waited. Three days became a week, a week became a month… and that month turned into six years. Every day, I thought he'd come back for me—until I realized I didn't need him anymore."
Shangqi lowered his head, guilt written all over his face. He had promised to escape with her… but left alone.
He had no right to say anything.
Natasha glanced at him and understood immediately. It reminded her of her own past—of the sister she had left behind.
"I didn't need you then. I definitely don't need you now."
Her voice was ice-cold.
"Then why did you send me that postcard?"
"What postcard?"
Xialing frowned. She had never sent him anything—she didn't even know where he had been all these years.
Shangqi froze, then pulled out the postcard with the crude drawing of a dragon and handed it to her.
She examined it carefully.
"I didn't send this."
They looked at each other, confusion mirrored in their eyes.
"Watch out!"
Barton suddenly shouted, grabbing a metal tray and hurling it toward the window.
Bang!
The tray exploded midair as a bullet pierced through, slamming into the wall behind them.
Instantly, alarms blared throughout the arena. Screams erupted outside as people fled in panic.
"Is there a back exit?!"
Shangqi shouted, scanning the room.
But Xialing had already grabbed Zhuang and slipped through a hidden door. Natasha tried to follow, but a barrage of bullets forced her to take cover. By the time she reacted, the door had already sealed shut.
Outside, dozens of heavily armed men in black stormed in.
Leading them… was the same towering brute from the bus.
"Sam, deal with the ones outside. Barton, with me."
Natasha drew her pistols. Barton pulled out his bow and a quiver of arrows.
"Got it."
Sam took out a palm-sized pack, pressed a button—and it expanded instantly into his Falcon flight gear, powered by Pym technology.
He leapt out the shattered window and charged toward the shooters outside.
Inside, Natasha and Barton moved in perfect sync. Years of partnership showed as they cleared enemies with ruthless efficiency—within minutes, over a dozen attackers were down.
Barton engaged the brute directly, the two clashing head-on.
Meanwhile, Xialing suddenly reappeared.
At that moment, Shangqi was fighting three opponents at once when a dagger suddenly shot toward his back.
Xialing kicked a metal ornament midair, knocking the dagger off course—it veered and stabbed straight into another attacker's chest.
"Spent too long in America? Your skills got worse."
She snapped a man's neck with a scissor kick, still finding time to mock him.
Then—
A figure stepped in through the broken window.
Dressed in tight clothing, wearing a mask resembling a Peking opera face, he moved slowly… yet impossibly fast.
In an instant, he appeared before Xialing, ripped the pendant from her neck, and flipped back out the window.
"My necklace!"
Xialing immediately gave chase, though fear crept into her heart.
Because that man…
Was no ordinary enemy.
He was Wenwu's most trusted lieutenant—
And the martial arts master who had trained both her and Shangqi.
"I'll go after him!"
Shangqi didn't jump out the window. Instead, he sprinted down the stairs.
Just as he expected—the masked man was already two floors below.
By the time Shangqi arrived, the man had blasted open a window. A helicopter hovered outside, ready for extraction.
As he prepared to leap aboard—
Shangqi lunged forward, tackling him midair and stopping his escape.
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