Chapter Text
Spider-Man: An ally or a silent enemy?
The wall-crawling hero has made one thing abundantly clear: he possesses the talent and abilities needed to stand out among all of us. He has saved innocent people and faced those who terrorized us for years with their supernatural powers. However, a debate has begun to emerge: can we really trust someone who has powers as well?
Discussion forums surrounding our local hero are currently divided. Some believe Spider-Man has earned our complete trust, while others wonder whether, when the time comes, he will turn his back on us to stand with people like himself. We do not believe that all supernatural ability users are evil, but there are those who insist that the corruption of power is inevitable.
Whatever the truth may be, we will continue to report on Spider-Man and support him—unless he gives us reason not to. We’re rooting for you, hero!
For the first time in over a year, Lu Guang asked for a day off.
He saw no other option after Cheng Xiaoshi had just confessed—to Spider-Man, actually—that he believed he might possess supernatural abilities. The revelation had left him so shocked he couldn’t utter a single word, even though his friend had clearly needed to hear something.
He couldn’t say anything out of fear. They could call him paranoid, but he was terrified that Liu Xiao might somehow hear him through the suit—or Xia Fei would and report everything back to his boss… and to Vein.
He had no choice but to end the conversation abruptly, steering Cheng Xiaoshi away from the subject before he could say anything else. No one could find out about this. In his line of work, supernatural powers were a latent threat, something he himself was expected to keep in check. If his associate discovered anything…
“You should be careful,” was all he managed to say as he slowly backed toward the studio door. “I’m afraid we can’t continue this conversation right now. There’s an emergency.”
Thankfully, that was enough to distract Cheng Xiaoshi. He wasn’t nearly selfish enough to ignore other people’s needs in favor of his own.
“Of course, I understand.” He nodded. “I’m grateful you came to visit me, but duty calls. There are people who need you.”
And without another word, Lu Guang hurried out of the Time Photo Studio. There was no emergency. He just had to leave.
He put as much distance as possible between himself and the studio, moving with an almost clumsy haste. Only when he was safely hidden deep inside an alley did he finally stop to catch his breath.
His heart was racing, and not because of the physical effort.
He pressed a hand to his chest and inhaled slowly, exhaling just as carefully. His body had entered survival mode—the same state it always fell into whenever he faced a problem with no immediate solution.
Cheng Xiaoshi… had powers?
It wasn’t a fact; he had said so himself.
But the fact that he trusted Spider-Man enough to confess it set off alarms in Lu Guang’s head. At the very least, Cheng Xiaoshi was convinced enough to believe that something was happening inside him.
Lu Guang was desperate for answers: What kind of powers? Why did he think he had them? How long had he suspected it?
When Lu Guang first discovered his own abilities, it had felt as if his body had developed a second personality before eventually merging with it completely. That second “personality” had been his powers manifesting themselves—sending signals, symptoms, warnings—until he acknowledged them and there was no going back.
Was Cheng Xiaoshi going through the same thing?
This time, he needed answers as Lu Guang. Spider-Man was too dangerous to keep around when his best friend harbored suspicions like these about himself. He couldn’t give up on Cheng Xiaoshi so easily. He would insist until he drove him crazy if he had to… But he would protect him.
And so, Lu Guang decided he needed a day off.
Almost twenty-four whole hours he could spend with his best friend. Time to regain his trust and coax the truth out of him, no matter the cost.
He showed up at Liu Xiao’s office first thing in the morning.
There he was, sitting behind his desk with his fingers laced together atop its surface, his eyes half-lidded behind his glasses as he scrutinized Lu Guang in silence.
“A day off?” he repeated.
Subtly, Lu Guang tightened his grip on the fabric of his white shirt.
“Yes.”
His associate relaxed in his chair, and a playful smile appeared on his lips.
“Is it to spend time with that friend of yours?” he asked. Lu Guang went still, immediately imagining the worst. “Cheng Xiaoshi, right? The photographer.” Liu Xiao chuckled and shook his head. “Well, that hardly does him justice. He’s the boy who gave you your name, isn’t he?”
There was no point denying it. Avoiding the subject would only make him seem suspicious.
“It’s him,” Lu Guang admitted.
“You make a very different expression whenever you talk about him,” Liu Xiao added.
Lu Guang bit the inside of his cheek. He just had to play along and act natural. That was all.
“He’s a good friend.”
“Your best friend, if I remember correctly.” He sighed, stretching his arms above his head before folding them behind it and resting against them lazily. “Friends are invaluable allies. I know that well enough myself.” He leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. “But I have to admit, my curiosity is getting the better of me. Is there any particular reason you want to spend time with him?”
Fortunately, Lu Guang had anticipated this exact question. He relaxed, releasing his shirt.
“I’m afraid he may relapse into a poor emotional state,” he replied. “Cheng Xiaoshi is… vulnerable. And I want to be there for him.”
If he painted his best friend as weak—fragile—he was certain it would divert Liu Xiao’s attention. His associate never said it aloud, but he had little interest in “weak” people. That was why he preferred to focus on those who possessed supernatural abilities.
“You’re a good friend, Lu Guang,” Liu Xiao said. “A mindset worthy of a hero.”
“Does that mean you’ll give me the day off?” he asked.
“Unless the city suddenly descends into chaos and falls apart, I think we can survive one day without Spider-Man,” he conceded. “But I can’t give you more than that. Remember, it’s part of our agreement.”
“I know,” Lu Guang replied. “That’s why I’m only asking for one day.”
Liu Xiao smiled.
“Then enjoy it.”
He headed to the newspaper office and, for the first time, found only Cheng Xiaoshi there.
He was staring at a handful of photographs spread across his desk, so absorbed in them that he didn’t even notice when Lu Guang arrived.
“Good morning,” Lu Guang greeted.
Cheng Xiaoshi startled and immediately looked away from the pictures.
“Lu Guang!” he exclaimed without meaning to. “You’re early.”
He hurriedly gathered the photographs into a messy pile with awkward movements. As Lu Guang stepped closer, he realized they were old pictures—ones that definitely didn’t belong to the newspaper.
In fact, he’d seen them before. They were from the photo studio. Cheng Xiaoshi’s precious memories.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“It’s nothing,” Cheng Xiaoshi assured him. “I was just… revisiting some moments.”
Before he could tuck them into his backpack, Lu Guang reached out instinctively and wrapped his fingers around his wrist, stopping him.
“Good moments?” he asked.
Taken aback by the sudden interest, Cheng Xiaoshi parted his lips slightly. He looked into Lu Guang’s eyes and, after blinking once, a faint smile began to form on his lips.
He was opening up. Little by little.
“Yeah,” he answered softly. “Good moments.” He offered the photos to him. “You’ve probably seen them before. They’re pictures of my family and…”
“I remember when you took this one,” Lu Guang interrupted, pulling out a photo that showed two hands making peace signs in front of a basketball. “It was one of the first times we played together. You said you wanted a keepsake—that you liked capturing everything, just in case.”
Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled at the memory.
“I’m surprised you remember.”
“I could never forget it,” Lu Guang replied. “It was a good day.”
Cheng Xiaoshi looked at him out of the corner of his eye, nostalgia hidden behind those brown irises. Then his gaze shifted to a picture of him with his parents—the most valuable one, usually displayed in a frame atop the coffee table at the studio.
“My mom has the same habit,” he said. “She believes every photo is valuable, no matter how terrible it turns out. She keeps every single one of them, even the ones ruined during development.” His voice softened. “I think… in that regard, I’m a lot like her.”
A genuine smile appeared on Lu Guang’s lips. Yes, he could definitely see Cheng Xiaoshi in that woman’s eyes.
“I’d like to meet her someday,” he said.
“I think she’d like you a lot.” Cheng Xiaoshi leaned against the desk, giving him a smug smile. “You’re a bit like my dad, personality-wise. He is calm too; always the one solving problems. The only difference…” He pointed at Lu Guang’s face and grinned. “He smiles more.”
“I’m doing my best.”
Cheng Xiaoshi laughed.
“Smiling’s free, you know.”
Lu Guang couldn’t hold back a quiet scoff. It surprised him—and relieved him—that such a brief conversation had shattered all the tension between them. It felt as though the distance that had grown over the past months had disappeared in a single moment.
“I have free time after classes. I thought we could hang out.” He hesitated for a second, as if the words themselves felt unfamiliar. “Eat something. Watch a movie. Play basketball.” He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
Cheng Xiaoshi blinked.
“Wow, they actually gave you a day off?”
“I needed a break.”
Cheng Xiaoshi nodded enthusiastically.
“Then we have to make the most of it!” he exclaimed, stepping away from the desk. “Qiao Ling was right. When you get a vacation day, it’s basically a historical event.” He laughed and glanced toward the door. “And speaking of the boss…”
“Perfect! You’re both here already!” Qiao Ling announced as she entered the office. “Boys, I want you to meet the newest member of the newspaper!”
Behind her walked a petite girl with striking bubblegum-pink twin tails decorated with heart-shaped hair clips. She looked awfully young, but if she’d been accepted onto the newspaper staff, she had to be at least eighteen.
A sweet smile rested on her face as she shyly waved at them.
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” she greeted softly, bowing her head. “My name is Li Tianxi. Thank you for allowing me to work with all of you.”
“Don’t worry, there’s no need to be so formal,” Qiao Ling assured her.
Cheng Xiaoshi was the first to approach. A warm smile spread across his face, his posture open and welcoming. Being this friendly came naturally to him. Even if, as a child, people had failed to notice it—too busy rejecting him because his parents had disappeared.
Their loss.
“It’s great to have you here! We could definitely use the extra help.” He pointed a thumb at himself and flashed her a grin. “My name is Cheng Xiaoshi. I’m the newspaper’s head photographer.”
“You mean the only photographer,” Lu Guang said, stepping closer as well. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Li Tianxi. I’m Lu Guang, the editor.”
“He’s in charge of fixing Cheng Xiaoshi’s articles whenever he writes things like ‘Spider-Man jumped and exploded’ and other atrocities,” Qiao Ling added.
“I have never written that!”
“What about last week’s issue?” she shot back, crossing her arms.
But Li Tianxi wasn’t paying attention to them anymore. Her gaze remained fixed on Cheng Xiaoshi, one finger resting beneath her chin as she studied him.
“You’re Cheng Xiaoshi!” she suddenly exclaimed. “You’re the guy Spider-Man saved from the truck! The one who interviewed him!”
Cheng Xiaoshi grinned smugly and ran a hand through his hair.
“Looks like I have a fan.”
“She likes Spider-Man as much as you do,” Qiao Ling replied. “But aside from that, Li Tianxi is a great writer and illustrator. Reporting isn’t really her thing, but she’s excellent at editing and proofreading.” She looked at Lu Guang. “She’ll help lighten your workload.”
Lu Guang inclined his head politely toward both girls.
“I appreciate it.”
Cheng Xiaoshi draped an arm over Lu Guang’s shoulder and pointed at Qiao Ling.
“And don’t let our boss intimidate you. She’s grumpy, but she knows what she’s doing.”
Qiao Ling frowned.
“Ha. Ha,” she said dryly, then took Li Tianxi by the hand. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be working from now on.”
Lu Guang followed the two girls with his eyes. He was about to return to his desk when Cheng Xiaoshi gave him a friendly slap on the back.
“So, see you after class?” he asked.
“Of course.”
[…]
Leaving campus without the crushing certainty that the hardest part of his day was only beginning felt like taking a deep breath for Lu Guang.
He knew he missed his freedom, but he had underestimated just how much. And above all, he had underestimated how much he missed Cheng Xiaoshi.
“You ready?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked the moment he saw him emerge from the building. He had been waiting for him by the university gates.
“I’ll follow your lead.”
He didn’t miss carrying the Spider-Man suit hidden inside his messenger bag, its weight feeling like a sack of bricks slung over his shoulder. And even if it was only for a day, he intended to enjoy it. More than that—it only strengthened his determination to find the owner of the time-travel ability and obtain the one thing he desired most in return.
Instead of taking the subway, they decided to walk around like they used to when they had just started college and money was painfully scarce. Only a few blocks away stood their old high school, where they had reunited after so many years apart.
And where Cheng Xiaoshi still insisted they had first met. Lu Guang was the only one who knew the truth.
“How about a game?” Cheng Xiaoshi suggested, pointing toward the basketball courts in the distance.
They were always left open. Maybe people forgot to lock them, or maybe no one cared. Either way, they were empty at this hour.
“One game,” Lu Guang agreed.
Cheng Xiaoshi smiled and started walking backward toward the courts.
“Loser buys dinner.”
They headed to the court that used to be theirs. A basketball was lying abandoned on the ground. It wasn’t fully inflated anymore, but it would do for a casual game.
Cheng Xiaoshi shrugged off his jacket and immediately started dribbling, weaving around Lu Guang as he tried to steal the ball. He had always been the better player, but Lu Guang’s reflexes had improved drastically.
He kept up, and with a swift movement, he stole the ball, spun on his heel, and scored effortlessly.
Cheng Xiaoshi stared at him, mouth hanging open.
“Have you been practicing in secret?” he asked.
“Just beginner’s luck,” Lu Guang replied, tossing the ball back to him. “Honestly, it seems like you’re getting rusty.”
Cheng Xiaoshi took that as a personal challenge. With a wide grin, he played harder than ever. He moved faster and shots were more precise. Lu Guang matched him point for point and, at the very last second, managed to win.
Cheng Xiaoshi wasn’t upset in the slightest. He looked genuinely shocked and he couldn’t stop laughing as he bent over, catching his breath.
“Who would’ve thought!” he exclaimed, grabbing Lu Guang’s arm and raising it high as though an entire crowd were cheering around them. “The winner of today’s match is Lu Guang, ladies and gentlemen!” He even imitated the sound of roaring applause. “And a bet is a bet, so… Ramen? My treat.”
In reality, “his treat” meant ramen at the Time Photo Studio.
Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t exactly have money to spare. Lu Guang offered to pay instead, but his best friend refused adamantly and declared he would make his special “boy dorm ramen” again.
Lu Guang didn’t mind. Cheng Xiaoshi had always had a natural talent for cooking.
“Make yourself at home,” Cheng Xiaoshi said as soon as they stepped into the studio. He tossed his jacket and backpack onto the counter and tightened his ponytail. “If you want to wash up and change your shirt, you can grab something from my closet,” he added over his shoulder. “As for me, duty calls.”
“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” Lu Guang reminded him.
Cheng Xiaoshi gasped.
“What kind of monster do you think I am?”
While Cheng Xiaoshi was in the kitchen, Lu Guang accepted his hospitality and went to the bathroom to wash his face, hoping to get rid of the sticky feeling of sweat lingering on his skin.
Afterward, he headed to his best friend’s closet with the same familiarity he’d had back when he used to spend entire days here. He grabbed one of Cheng Xiaoshi’s white T-shirts and slipped it on.
It had just been washed and it smelled like Cheng Xiaoshi. It was… comforting.
He went back downstairs and offered to help with dinner, but Cheng Xiaoshi refused immediately.
“Nope! A bet is a bet, so I’m handling this,” he said. “Besides, no offense, but you’re a disaster in the kitchen.”
Lu Guang couldn’t argue with that.
He sat on the couch to wait and pulled out his phone. There were no notifications from Liu Xiao and no emergencies. He sighed in relief and allowed himself to relax. His associate was right: the city could survive one day without Spider-Man.
Today, he was just Lu Guang.
Cheng Xiaoshi emerged from the kitchen carrying two steaming bowls of ramen. He hurried to place them on the coffee table and then immediately blew on his palms.
“Shit, that was hot,” he muttered.
“Are you okay?” Lu Guang asked.
“The only thing injured is my pride because you beat me at basketball,” Cheng Xiaoshi sighed dramatically as he flopped down beside him and placed a hand on his forehead. “Maybe I’m losing my touch. Or getting old. Do you see any gray hairs?”
“You’re twenty-one, Cheng Xiaoshi.”
“And you’re twenty, but that doesn’t stop you from having completely white hair,” he teased, ruffling Lu Guang’s hair.
As they ate, they kept chatting about anything and everything, trading jokes as naturally as breathing.
At some point, Cheng Xiaoshi tucked his arms beneath his head and then casually rested his legs across Lu Guang’s lap as he rambled endlessly about his encounter with Spider-Man in painstaking detail.
For the first time, Lu Guang didn’t feel quite so awkward about it. He simply nodded and asked the occasional question, pretending he knew absolutely nothing. Cheng Xiaoshi’s smile and animated voice were enough to drown out any embarrassment or discomfort he might have felt.
Still… He had to bring up the difficult subject; the real reason he was here. Of course he wanted to spend time with his best friend. But beneath the enjoyment lingered the memory of those words:
I think I might have supernatural abilities.
When he finished his ramen, Lu Guang placed the bowl on the table and set his chopsticks neatly on top. Cheng Xiaoshi raised an eyebrow and smiled.
“So?” he asked. “As good as always?”
“It was delicious,” Lu Guang replied. Then his body tensed involuntarily. “Cheng Xiaoshi…” he began softly. “I know I’ve brought this up a lot, but… are you sure you’re okay?”
His friend remained quiet.
“I’m not asking to annoy you. I genuinely want to know how you’re doing.” He lowered his gaze briefly. “You seem… down lately. And there are little things I’ve noticed, like bringing all those old photos to the newspaper office.” He hesitated and his fingers curled against his knee. “I just… I don’t want you to feel alone. I want to know if something’s wrong. Whatever it is, I won’t judge you.”
Maybe he was being too direct. But he was sure that if he didn’t explain himself, Cheng Xiaoshi would dodge the question again, just as he had these past few days.
Except, this time… Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t deny his concern.
Instead, he straightened on the couch with a sigh and set his empty bowl on the table.
“I have been feeling… lonely,” he admitted at last. Then he shook his head. “But I know how to deal with it. Sure, some days are harder than others, but I’ve learned to live with it and not let it consume me.”
“You shouldn’t have to live with it,” Lu Guang said. “You can talk about it. You can come to me or Qiao Ling. It would never bother us.”
“It just feels… selfish.” Cheng Xiaoshi looked down at his hands. “You both have your own lives, your own problems. I can’t expect you to deal with me like I’m some five-year-old who needs comforting.”
“We don’t see it as dealing with you. And maybe I can’t speak for Qiao Ling, but I can speak for myself.” Lu Guang shifted closer and reached out to take his friend's hand. “Cheng Xiaoshi… it will never bother me if you come to me.” His fingers tightened gently around his. “In fact… I’m asking you to. Please.”
Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes glistened. They had become watery without Lu Guang even noticing. He exhaled shakily and wiped away the tears that hadn’t yet fallen with the back of his hand.
“Thank you, Lu Guang.”
And then—before Lu Guang could even process it—Cheng Xiaoshi rested his head on his shoulder and held his hand a little tighter.
Neither of them said anything. Lu Guang didn’t dare move; he wanted his friend to stay there for as long as he needed. So instead, he slowly lifted his free hand and gently ran his fingers through Cheng Xiaoshi’s hair.
They stayed like that for several minutes. For a moment, Lu Guang thought Cheng Xiaoshi had fallen asleep. But then he whispered:
“There is something happening to me,” he admitted softly. “Something I haven’t told you or Qiao Ling.”
Lu Guang was almost certain what he meant.
“What is it?”
Cheng Xiaoshi lifted his head from his shoulder and sat at the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the coffee table. He seemed unable to look Lu Guang in the eye.
“You know there are… people with supernatural powers, right?” he asked.
Lu Guang swallowed hard and nodded.
“I know.”
“This is going to sound crazy, but…” He looked down at his hands. “I think I might have one of those abilities.”
He had done it. He had finally coaxed the words out of his best friend. Now all he had to do was listen and find a solution before there was even a problem.
“Why do you think that?” he asked calmly.
“Because a few days ago, while I was looking at the picture of my parents…” Cheng Xiaoshi frowned. “I felt something odd.”
“What kind of feeling?”
“I don’t know how to explain it exactly.” He rubbed his thumb nervously against his palm. “It felt like… like the photograph was pulling me in.”
“Pulling you in?”
“That’s the closest description I can come up with.” He hesitated. “I heard whispers. It was as if I could relive the moment captured in that picture if I just dared to step inside.” His brows knitted together. “And my hands… They felt strange. Like they were vibrating. Like every cell in my body was begging me to bring them together so I could enter the photograph.”
Lu Guang didn’t entirely understand. But some of those symptoms… They sounded familiar. Maybe Cheng Xiaoshi’s ability—if he truly had one—was similar to his own. Maybe it also revolved around photographs. Maybe it was even the same ability, only slightly different.
There was only one way to find out.
“Do you have the photograph?”
Cheng Xiaoshi looked up at him, confused.
“Huh?”
“Let’s try it,” Lu Guang said. “Let’s follow your instincts and see what happens. That’s the only way we’ll confirm whether you really have an ability or if it was just a strange feeling. Or something emotional.”
Cheng Xiaoshi blinked.
“Wow. I was sure you’d think I was crazy.” A crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Or worse; that you’d get paranoid.”
“My best friend has a problem,” Lu Guang replied, “and I want to help him solve it.”
A faint blush spread across Cheng Xiaoshi’s cheeks.
“Alright,” he gave in. “If you insist.”
He stood and retrieved the backpack he had abandoned on the counter. He pulled out the stack of photographs he’d taken to university and spread them across the coffee table.
Then he picked one up. The photograph.
“This one.”
While Cheng Xiaoshi was distracted arranging the others, Lu Guang discreetly looked away and activated his own power. He peered into the image, but there was nothing unusual. Just a series of ordinary moments unfolding over the next twelve hours:
Cheng Xiaoshi walking beside his parents. The three of them having dinner. Returning home. Going to bed.
Nothing else. No hidden danger and no supernatural traces.
Lu Guang deactivated his power and returned his attention to his friend.
“Try to recreate the feeling from before,” he instructed. “Focus. Remember exactly what happened.”
Cheng Xiaoshi nodded. He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table. The photograph rested between his hands. He stared at it and didn’t move.
Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then another.
Lu Guang remained silent, allowing him to concentrate. And then—something changed. In the middle of his trance… Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes turned gold.
Lu Guang’s own eyes widened. He shot up from the couch and dropped to his knees in front of him.
Golden irises.
An unnatural eye color was one of the earliest signs. One of the clearest indicators of supernatural abilities.
“Cheng Xiaoshi?” he called.
Slowly, Cheng Xiaoshi looked away from the photograph and met his gaze.
“They’re calling me,” he whispered.
A chill shot down Lu Guang’s spine.
“What?”
Cheng Xiaoshi raised his hands to chest level… and clapped.
The sound echoed through the room. And in the blink of an eye—he vanished. No flash of light, not even a warning. One moment Cheng Xiaoshi was sitting in front of him, and the next… there was nothing.
It was as if he had been erased from existence.
Lu Guang froze and his heart lurched into his throat. Cold sweat gathered on his forehead. And, for the first time in a long, long while… He panicked.
“Cheng Xiaoshi?!”