Roast lamb is a heavily seasoned dish, and with Kreacher brushing on spices like cumin and pepper, the flavor became even richer—though also more intense.
Thus, roast lamb is usually paired with fine red wine, allowing the aromas to complement each other.
But where would Li Ming get red wine? The guy only recognizes beer.
In the end, Stark couldn't take it anymore and called Potts, asking her to buy a few bottles of wine suitable for pairing with lamb.
Once Potts had purchased the wine and some snacks, Li Ming opened a Teleportation Door to bring her to the lakeside.
Dinner proceeded in a cheerful atmosphere, though Stark proved to be a lightweight, eventually passing out at the table while still clutching a lamb leg.
Potts found this embarrassing and tried to pry the lamb leg from Stark's grip, but after several attempts, she gave up helplessly—her strength was no match for his. Helpless, Potts could only apologize and ask Li Ming to open the Teleportation Door, then together they helped Stark onto the bed.
For such a small request from Potts, Li Ming had no reason to refuse. He swiftly opened the Teleportation Door and tossed Stark onto the large bed.
Seeing Stark lying on the bed while still clutching the lamb leg, Potts felt both embarrassed and helpless. Seizing the chance to fetch water for Stark, she hurriedly left the room—out of sight, out of mind.
Inside the room, Li Ming looked at Stark with an amused smirk and said, "Get up. You can keep the lamb leg."
Stark remained motionless, stubbornly feigning drunkenness like a dead pig unafraid of boiling water. Li Ming sighed in exasperation. "A billionaire like you has eaten everything under the sun. Do you, the great Iron Man, still have no shame? Do you really expect me to believe you're holding onto that lamb leg because it's too delicious? I know why you're doing this. You think building your Armor Suit at home makes Potts uneasy, but you're also a terminal case of paranoia—without power at your side, you feel vulnerable, right?"
Stark's lips twitched slightly, but in the end, he said nothing, continuing his charade of drunkenness. Seeing this, Li Ming sighed again. As he opened another Teleportation Door, he advised, "You need proper rest—maybe go fishing somewhere or, like me, build a sailboat and go wild with it."
With that, Li Ming stepped through the Teleportation Door back to the lakeside without waiting for Stark's response.
In the room, Stark opened his eyes wearily, staring blankly at the lamb leg in his hand. Only when he heard Potts' footsteps returning with a glass of water did he sigh, release the lamb leg, and sink into sleep.
Several months later.
Under Li Ming's supervision, with Killian and ten mummies as laborers, a sailboat approximately 50 meters long—modified by Fitz to better suit aerodynamics—was finally completed.
Li Ming circled the cabin he had personally overseen a few times, confirming the sailboat was flawless. He then hung a skull-and-crossbones flag adorned with a straw hat on the Sail and ordered the mummies to push the boat into the lake.
After sailing for a few days, Li Ming couldn't shake the feeling that the sailboat was underwhelming on the lake. Even after magically shrinking it, the experience remained lackluster. Worse, there were no targets on the lake to fire at, wasting the dozen or so cannons mounted on the sailboat.
After some thought, Li Ming waved his hand and opened a Teleportation Door, steering the sailboat toward the open sea.
But Li Ming had forgotten one thing—while there were many ships at sea, they weren't just waiting around for him to encounter them.
Moreover, with his small wooden sailboat displacing only 500-600 tons and flying a pirate flag, what could he do even if he spotted another ship? He'd still have to catch up first.
And if he happened upon a massive freighter weighing thousands of tons? They wouldn't even glance at Li Ming before plowing straight over him. Li Ming was so frustrated that he considered casting spells on his sailboat several times to catch up and continue his piracy career. Fortunately, he remembered that he was just here to have fun, not to actually cause trouble, and eventually gave up on the idea of using magic.
After drifting on the open sea for a few days, Li Ming only felt that business was tough. He couldn't catch up with the big ships, though he could easily overtake smaller ones, like some coastal fishing boats.
But what would he do with fishing boats? Rob them of their salted fish? He was a good boy who went home on time for meals every day—his family certainly wasn't short on salted fish.
In the end, Li Ming set himself a small goal: if he was going to hijack anything, it had to be something big—like an aerial aircraft carrier.
Those things were packed with planes. Stealing just one would make him rich.
At this thought, the bored-out-of-his-mind Li Ming went home to grab his phone, then sprawled lazily on the deck like a salted fish as he dialed Fury's number and said, "Fury, got a question for you."
On the other end of the line, Fury replied impatiently, "What is it? Spit it out."
"Where's that helicarrier?" Li Ming asked leisurely.
Furrowing his brow while trying to guess Li Ming's intentions, Fury said, "I'm busy. Get to the point or I'm hanging up."
"Uh—" Li Ming scratched his head and explained, "I just finished building my sailboat and even raised a pirate flag, but robbing small ships seems kinda lame. I wanna pull off something big—something that'll keep me fed for three years after just one job. So I figured, why not hijack a helicarrier? S.H.I.E.L.D.'s loaded anyway."
"Piss off!" Fury nearly slammed his phone down in frustration before suddenly stopping himself. Taking a few deep breaths to calm down, he muttered, "If you're that bored, go help Coulson with something."
"Coulson?" Li Ming asked, puzzled. "What's up with him? Did he screw up?"
Rubbing his temples wearily, Fury replied, "Dr. Hall, a S.H.I.E.L.D. affiliate, was kidnapped by an invisible enemy. You'll have to ask Coulson for the details."
"An invisible enemy?" Now intrigued, Li Ming sprang up from the deck like a carp and asked, "Any idea if it's tech-based or magic cloaking?"
Fury shook his head slightly. "No clue. If it's magic, it's your problem. Otherwise, I'll have to plaster 'Missing' posters all over the world to get the Ancient One's help."
At the mention of Fury's "Missing" poster plan, Li Ming couldn't help but imagine every lamppost worldwide plastered with images of the Ancient One's shiny bald head.
Are you trying to make sure she never steps outside again?
And why does this mental image feel so hilarious?
Shaking his head to clear the thought, Li Ming said, "Fine, I'll check it out. Give me Coulson's general location—I'll find him myself." Licking his lips with a mischievous grin, he added, "Never hijacked a plane from a black cloud before. Bet it'll be a rush."
Fury's eye twitched. Sacrificing Coulson to save his helicarrier from Li Ming's antics, he quickly relayed the coordinates of Coulson's airborne command center.
After hanging up, Li Ming sailed his boat back to the lake, opened a Teleportation Door to get near Coulson, then rode his black cloud across the sky in search of the plane.
About fifteen minutes later, he finally spotted Coulson's team.
Just as Li Ming was about to barge into the cabin, his eyes gleamed with mischief. Grinning, he turned invisible and plastered himself against the cockpit windshield.
When he saw Melinda in the pilot's seat, he suddenly reappeared, knocking on the glass and shouting, "Hey, lady! You hit me with your plane! Pay up!"
Of course, Melinda couldn't hear him—but she still jumped out of her skin at the sight of Li Ming materializing out of nowhere. Melinda, her fists clenched with veins bulging, wore a pale poker face as she silently picked up the microphone and said in an icy tone, "Coulson, there's an idiot lying on the windshield. I feel like running this bastard over."
Upon hearing Melinda's broadcast, all members of Coulson's team froze in stunned silence for a few seconds before rushing toward the cockpit in unison.
Who on earth was this daredevil sprawled on the windshield to provoke even the usually tight-lipped Melinda into cursing?
More importantly, the plane was in mid-flight—how had he even climbed onto it?...
Just as the group was about to reach the cockpit, Li Ming, who had noticed the strong wind outside the cabin, slipped inside and took the co-pilot's seat. He curiously examined the array of instruments in front of him before turning to Melinda, whose face had turned ashen, and asked, "Don't you find all these buttons and dials annoying? Want me to swap the control stick for a car steering wheel when I have time?"
Melinda had no doubt Li Ming could pull it off—after all, she'd driven his RV before.
But the whole reason she'd joined Coulson's team as the pilot was for the peace and quiet of the cockpit.
If flying a plane became as simple as driving a car—just grab the wheel, step on the clutch, shift gears, release the clutch, and hit the gas—how could she possibly keep her serene job?
Would anyone with a driver's license be qualified to pilot a plane then?
Hearing Coulson and the others approaching, Melinda shot Li Ming a death glare and said coldly without turning her head, "Coulson, throw this guy to the back. Don't let him distract me while I'm flying."
Li Ming glanced back at Coulson's team, gave them a casual wave, and said, "Hey, old Coulson, your Mel here tried to run me over with the plane. How should we settle this? Officially or privately? If we go official, your Melinda here would pretty much lose her pilot's license..." Scratching his head, he suddenly turned to Melinda as if remembering something. "You get fined and penalized for traffic violations—do you pilots have a points system too?"
Pilots did have points, but were they the same as traffic violation points? Melinda twitched her lips, silently put on her headphones, and pretended not to hear him.
Realizing Li Ming was just bored and playing a prank, Coulson smirked and joked, "I think going official would be better. After all, I'm pretty sure you don't have a pilot's license—that's unlicensed flying, which is way worse than Melinda 'hitting' someone mid-air."
"Going official is no fun," Li Ming stood up, slinging an arm over Coulson's shoulder like an old buddy as they walked out of the cockpit. "Let's settle this privately. I'll get you reimbursements for your losses—double the amount, even. Then, heh heh, we can split the extra. Since I was the one who 'got hit,' you take 30%, I take 60%, and the remaining 10% goes to the witnesses as hush money. Sound good?" Coulson: "You'd better ask Fury directly for favors. I won't get involved in your messy business."
Coulson smiled gently. Just as he was about to introduce the new team member to Li Ming and subtly hint at him to gift a protective charm, the new member widened her eyes in surprise and exclaimed, "Uncle Austin?"