---
The room had gone silent, except for the quiet sobs that still trembled from Pepper's lips.
She had been holding back the storm in her chest for too long—bottling up fear, stress, and grief like a ticking time bomb. When Tony announced her promotion—when it felt like he was preparing for the worst—it had all burst free. The tears flowed faster, heavier, as though she were mourning something not yet lost, but painfully inevitable.
To Tony, it felt like attending his own funeral.
"Pepper..." he muttered helplessly, standing there with his arms hovering awkwardly in midair, unsure whether to embrace her or give her space. The genius billionaire, playboy, and weapons manufacturer—the man who had built a suit of armor in a cave—was now completely out of his depth.
"Why can't I ever say the right thing?" he thought, exasperated.
His gaze snapped toward the corner of the room, where Lin Feng had quietly been observing the scene—half-part emotional bystander, half-part tea connoisseur. A tray with two steaming porcelain cups sat on the table in front of him, the fragrant steam curling like wisps of cloud above them.
Tony's eyes narrowed in mock accusation. He didn't need words—his glare said everything: "This is your fault!"
Lin Feng raised his hands defensively and gave Tony a sheepish smile. Yeah, okay, maybe he shouldn't have dropped the palladium bomb on Pepper so directly. He hadn't expected her to be this emotionally invested—or maybe, deep down, he had, and just didn't realize how much it would hurt to see.
Letting out a theatrical cough to draw attention away from the emotional weight in the room, Lin Feng straightened up and clapped his hands once.
"Ahem! Pepper, Tony," he said, his tone light and disarming. "Have you two forgotten I'm still here?"
Pepper froze mid-sob, as if realizing for the first time that someone else had witnessed her unraveling. She wiped her face quickly and blushed, embarrassed but not retreating.
Lin Feng smiled and pushed the two porcelain cups forward, the amber liquid within glowing faintly with a green-gold hue. The aroma that rose from the cups was otherworldly—fresh, sweet, invigorating, like morning dew in an untouched forest.
"I brewed you something special," Lin said. "It's not just tea—it's a miracle you can't find on any market in the world."
Tony leaned forward, sniffing the steam suspiciously. "You're giving me tea while I'm dying of palladium poisoning?"
"Not just any tea," Lin said, pointing to the leaves floating in the cups. "This is brewed from the Tree of Life. Think of it as... a reboot for your cells. Especially helpful for someone with a miniature nuclear reactor embedded in his chest."
Pepper blinked at the cup in front of her. "This can cure palladium poisoning?" she asked, hesitant. The tone in her voice was a mixture of hope and disbelief.
"It won't rewrite your DNA," Lin replied with a grin, "but it'll detoxify the damage—at least enough to buy you time. And for you, Miss Potts," he added with a wink, "it'll help with stress, restore your energy... even improve skin tone. Just don't tell any beauty magazines. They'll hunt me down."
Still looking doubtful, Pepper lifted the cup. The liquid shimmered lightly under the light, a soft mist rising from its surface like something alive. The scent was calming, grounding, as though the leaves carried a song from the earth itself.
She took a sip.
Immediately, her eyes widened.
A warmth spread through her chest, radiating outward. Her exhaustion faded, replaced by clarity. Her skin, previously pale and stressed from sleepless nights and long hours, began to regain its natural glow. Even her hair shimmered slightly as if renewed from within.
"Oh my god," she whispered, staring at her hands as if they belonged to someone else.
Tony stared at her, mouth slightly open. "Pep... are you... getting younger?"
She pulled out a compact mirror from her purse and gasped. "What the hell—my skin's glowing!"
Tony didn't wait. He snatched up his cup and downed the contents in a single gulp.
A wave of warmth coursed through him, deep and electrifying. The nagging headaches, fatigue, the constant ache in his chest—all gone. His muscles felt light again, and the oppressive weight he'd been carrying inside vanished as if it had never been there.
Instinctively, he lifted his shirt to inspect his arc reactor. The black spiderweb of toxins that had begun to creep out from the reactor's edges were dissolving—receding back toward the core and vanishing entirely. Within seconds, his skin was clear.
"Holy hell," Tony whispered. He pulled a handheld device from his pocket—a palladium tester—and pressed his thumb to it.
Beep. Beep.
Palladium level: 0%.
"Sir," JARVIS chimed in through the speaker system, "I am pleased to inform you that your bloodstream is now free of all palladium traces. Congratulations."
Tony stared blankly for a second. Then his face broke into a wide, incredulous grin. "I'm cured?"
He turned toward Lin Feng, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. "This is insane. This is unscientific!"
Lin leaned back, crossing his arms. "Doesn't matter if it's scientific. You're alive, aren't you?"
Tony shook his head and laughed. "You know what? You're right. You're totally right."
He grabbed the small bag of dried tea leaves that Lin handed him next like it was the most valuable thing on Earth.
"This... this is incredible. Can I get more of this? How much do you have? How much can I have?"
Lin Feng smacked his forehead. "This isn't some factory-produced herbal tea, Tony. That's all you're getting for now—enough to last until you fix your actual problem."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "So what—you're saying this is a temporary fix?"
Lin nodded. "A temporary but effective one. You can't keep relying on this. It's like duct tape on a reactor core. It buys you time, nothing more."
Tony frowned. "Then what is the real fix? I've run every test, tried every element in the periodic table—nothing can replace palladium."
Lin Feng's smile turned enigmatic.
"That's because you haven't looked in the right place. Or rather, you haven't looked into the right legacy."
Tony's brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Your father, Howard Stark," Lin said, "left behind more than you realize. And someone is going to show you soon."
"Who?" Tony asked, more confused than ever.
Lin shrugged casually. "Let's just say... a man with an eye patch and a lot of secrets."
"You mean Fury?" Tony scoffed. "I already told him I'm not interested in his boy band of superpowered weirdos."
Lin smiled knowingly. "Then maybe you should be. Because when he comes knocking, he'll have something with him. Something from your father. And that, Tony... that might just be your salvation."
For once, Tony didn't have a snappy comeback.
He looked down at the tea, then at Pepper, then at the bag in his hands.
Lin stood up, brushing off his jacket. "Anyway, I've done my part. I'll leave you two lovebirds to celebrate not dying."
"Wait," Tony called after him. "You sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"
"Nope. Got a date with destiny—or rather, with Susan. She's getting off work, and I promised I'd pick her up."
Before leaving, Lin paused and turned back one last time. "Oh—and don't go overboard with the tea. One leaf a week, no more. Any more than that and the side effects might turn you into something out of a kaiju film."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Like what kind of side effects?"
"Think Hulk, but herbal," Lin said with a wink, then disappeared out the door.
Pepper watched him go, then turned to Tony. Her voice was soft. "He saved your life."
Tony nodded slowly, eyes still on the bag of shimmering green leaves. "Yeah... and somehow, I think that's not the last time he's going to."
---
Later That Evening…
The engine of the sports car purred like a satisfied cat as Lin Feng cruised down the highway, the New York skyline shining like a sea of neon in the distance. The wind swept through his hair as he hummed an old tune from his previous life.
🎶 "To and from Las Vegas… I saw it on the road… No smoke here, no smoke…" 🎶
"If I hadn't ended up as Superman, I could've been a decent singer-songwriter," he mused.
A familiar voice rang out in his head.
> "Dog host, please—stop singing. You're making me nauseous."
It was the system, back in full snark-mode.
Lin Feng frowned. "Do you even have ears? How can a program get motion sickness?"
> "It's not about hearing—it's about taste. And yours is bad."
"Then what are you doing here? You usually only show up when it's something important."
> "Bingo. I'm here to drop a new mission on you."
Lin raised an eyebrow, still humming. "A mission? Thought you'd forgotten how to do your job."
> "Listen here, pitchy. You've got over 10 million reputation points thanks to the abomination fight, but that's peanuts compared to what you'll need for Silver Superman."
"You're saying I'm not working hard enough?"
> "I'm saying, at this rate, Thanos will retire before you evolve."
Lin sighed. "Then maybe it's time you coughed up a task that's worth the effort."
> "Glad you said that!" the system chirped. "Because this one's big. Real big."
A slow smile spread across Lin Feng's face as the sky darkened ahead of him and the city lights beckoned.
"Alright," he said. "Let's hear it."
---
[TO BE CONTINUED]