Qin Zhong knew the phrase.
But he hadn’t expected Uncle Ben to be the one to say it to him so soon.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Ben.
I didn’t mean to hide it; I just didn’t realize the change would be this drastic…” “Nonono, kid, I’m not blaming you.
It’s normal for young people to have secrets.
I’m just worried that possessing power far beyond an ordinary person’s reach could make you arrogant and lead you down a dark path.
You only need to promise me that you will use your power for the right reasons, alright?” Uncle Ben looked into Qin Zhong’s eyes, hoping to see something specific there.
Qin Zhong’s gaze didn’t waver.
He still remembered that day outside the police station, with Uncle Ben standing in the sunlight and reaching out a hand to him.
That was enough for him to make certain inconsequential concessions for this kind man.
“Uncle Ben, I actually spent my early school years in China.
I learned many foundational things there that shaped my life.
Prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony, freedom…
kindness.
To me, these aren’t constraints, but the threads that weave my soul.
So, I’ve always lived according to my soul, and I’ve never felt that living this way was wrong.” It wasn’t just when he was a child; Qin Zhong had lived in China for over twenty years in his previous life.
Certain values were etched into his very bones.
Moreover, not long after leaving school, he had become a “little angel” of Great Luck, dying while saving others.
Thus, society’s grinding of human nature hadn’t had time to leave scars on his soul.
By the time he arrived here, he met Uncle Ben.
To be fair, he hadn’t suffered much hardship.
The only thing worth mentioning was perhaps the coldness of his family relationships caused by his parents’ divorce and remarriage in his past life.
Fortunately, the internet provided ample spiritual civilization and material needs were never lacking, so the damage wasn’t profound.
“Oh, I really should have sent Peter to study in China for a while.
The education there sounds more perfect.
You know, he’s too mischievous.
Aunt May and I feel like we’ve aged ten years in the last six months.” Uncle Ben stood up with a loud laugh.
“Kid, come with me.
Tread lightly.
I remember my brother was about your height; I still have some of his clothes here.
If you don’t mind, I can get you something more presentable first.” Qin Zhong naturally didn’t object.
He stood up and walked tiptoe, like a thief, to ensure he didn’t break anything else.
After changing into a suit, trousers, and a dress shirt, he looked a bit mature, but Uncle Ben was very satisfied.
“Very sharp.
Even more perfect than I imagined.” As they stepped out, Aunt May returned with Peter, carrying several bags.
Seeing Qin Zhong in formal wear, Aunt May gave him another thumbs-up before placing the bags in the kitchen and clearing the remnants of the meal from the table.
The six-year-old Little Spider watched Qin Zhong, his eyes shimmering.
He had lost his parents, and Uncle Ben was no longer young.
There were bad kids at school, and he needed a strong back to follow.
Qin Zhong’s appearance and excellent grades filled the void left by his fantasies of his scientist father, while the sudden eruption of superhuman strength filled the insecurity stemming from the loss of his parents.
This man, eleven years his senior, had the strength to support the Parker household.
Barefoot, Qin Zhong walked slowly toward Little Spider.
Aunt May glanced at Uncle Ben.
Ben shook his head, so she remained still.
Qin Zhong slowly squatted down.
His enlarged frame seemed like a mountain before Little Spider.
While not overly bulky, the explosive feel of his lean muscle gave a sense of security and reliability.
Qin Zhong flexed his arm and placed it behind Peter, gesturing for him to feel it.
Peter reached out and pressed against the arm through the fabric.
Naturally, it wouldn’t budge; it felt as if he were touching a piece of iron through the clothes.
“Are you scared, Peter?” “No, no, no, Brother Zhong!
You’re amazing!
Can I learn?
I want to be a strongman too.
You just broke that chair effortlessly—it was so cool!” *Alright, is Little Spider’s chatterbox nature really not hereditary?
And isn’t admiring others’ muscles a habit he developed later?* “Hop on.
Hold onto my arm, and let’s go eat.
As for wanting to be like me—first, you need to get an A+.” Little Spider was in first grade, and his grades were honestly not great.
He really was too fond of playing.
After placing Little Spider in his seat, the Martial Saint was already adjusting various bodily functions based on the actual situation.
At the very least, he wouldn’t accidentally break things now; the situation was more controllable than imagined.
However, Qin Zhong wasn’t sure of his specific physical data.
He needed a professional institution or a benchmark target to determine who he could actually fight to a draw.
He was talking about you, Captain Ass-tastic.
Unfortunately, according to his research, there was a high probability that Qin Zhong was in the movie timeline.
Captain America should still be practicing his “cultivation” under the frozen bed of ice.
He wouldn’t be dug up to join the Avengers until 2011, so he likely wouldn’t see him anytime soon.
As for Little Spider, it would be about nine more years before he was bitten, so there was a long wait.
He could put those genetic templates aside for now.
Additionally, since the “Godly Strength” genetic template appeared, only one had shown up.
He wasn’t sure if it was because the Martial Saint hadn’t been equipped yet, leaving no vacancy for replication, or if Wenqu simply hadn’t found any.
In any case, several months had passed, and Wenqu’s only function seemed to be the Memory Palace; not a single new genetic template had been discovered.
Oh, not only that, but he still had dynamic vision, the keen observation of the Sharingan, and coordination for various physical activities, including a powerful learning ability.
These hadn’t been lost; rather, they had become even stronger due to the presence of the “Civil and Martial” duality.
Perhaps these were basic skills etched into the Uchiha bloodline.
Even without Wenqu’s genetic analysis, Qin Zhong could become a powerful ordinary human through the Sharingan—stronger than Hawkeye, who always lost in duels but won in wars.
He would just have to endure more hardship.
After dinner, the night passed quietly.
The next day was still a holiday, but Qin Zhong felt Uncle Ben was right: his power had come too suddenly, and he needed to calm his mind.
Thus, he went nowhere and helped Uncle Ben organize the warehouse.
When he saw Qin Zhong lift an engine with one hand and move it to another spot effortlessly, Uncle Ben was still somewhat shocked.
“Kid, I studied some Eastern martial arts knowledge yesterday.
Is this called Foundation Establishment?
That’s what the books say.
Foundation Establishment is a great gate; once you push through, Eastern warriors gain a new life and can use a sword that flies in the sky.
If you need one, I can find a way to get you a loan to buy one.
I’ve read Harry Potter, and it’s like a wizard’s wand.
My credit at the bank is quite good; I think I could pay a down payment for you.
Though I don’t know where they’re sold, you’ll have to ask your seniors…” Qin Zhong didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Uncle Ben, stop staying up late reading novels.
Aren’t you afraid Aunt May will nag you again?
Besides, those are cultivation novels.
In comparison, I haven’t even reached the Foundation Establishment stage yet.
Right now, I’m probably only at the Houtian realm; I haven’t even reached Xiantian.” “Is that so?
In the ones I read, they usually reach Foundation Establishment in a few chapters.
I thought Chinese kung fu all started with Foundation Establishment.” Uncle Ben seemed disappointed.
Qin Zhong suspected he just wanted to see if he could fly on a sword.
“I might be able to fly later, but that requires a ‘fortuitous encounter’—basically, it depends on whether God feels like doing me a favor!” Qin Zhong tried to use a Western framework to give Uncle Ben a heads-up, just in case.
Peter ran over at that moment, shouting for Qin Zhong to join him, saying he wanted to learn kung fu.
He had been craving it since yesterday’s dinner conversation.
He didn’t know what Uncle Ben was thinking—perhaps he truly felt Little Spider was too frail—but he allowed Qin Zhong to teach him a few moves.
Seeing his nephew calling for him, Uncle Ben waved them off, signaling the two to go play.
Qin Zhong had already helped a lot; Ben could handle the remaining scraps himself.
Qin Zhong led Little Spider to the back alley.
Along the way, he wondered: would a Little Spider who knew Bajiquan still be the authentic Little Spider?
*Probably?
Just hit a bit lighter.* *No, maybe teach him Tai Chi?
Wouldn’t that be more appropriate?* Thinking this, Qin Zhong pushed the dilemma onto Little Spider.
First, he performed a set of Tai Chi, explaining the essence of the art as he moved.
He didn’t know if Peter understood.
Then, he performed Bajiquan.
The wind generated by the strikes made Peter’s cheeks sting.
The question was: which one would a child choose?
“I don’t care; you have to choose for yourself.
If you pick Bajiquan, don’t regret it!” Peter wiped away a tear.
“I want the cool one!” Then, Qin Zhong began teaching Peter the stances of Bajiquan, while reminding him that since he was young, he shouldn’t focus too much on raw strength, but rather on mastering the forms first.
There was no rush.
Once the forms were mastered, even if Little Spider had some hidden injuries, when he hit his teens and the plot progressed, one bite from a spider would ensure a healthy Peter thanks to the regenerative powers.
When that time came, super-strength would teach the “brothers” of New York how to speak politely to a Little Spider who knew Bajiquan.
And as for the opposing brothers in the Civil War, they could just wait.
Qin Zhong rubbed his chin.
*Maybe I should head back to China and see if I can use Wenqu to learn more external martial arts?* He decided it wasn’t necessary.
Little Spider’s poor performance in the movies was because he had no teacher early on and fought by instinct later.
Now, by systematically studying Bajiquan and mastering it, he would benefit infinitely in the future.
Combine that with the Spider-Sense—others couldn’t hit him, and Peter could step in with a piercing elbow…
As for whether he’d be interested in other martial arts later, that would be his own choice.
In the end, six-year-old Peter spent the afternoon learning the starting stance and one move: the Iron Mountain Lean.
He forgot everything else.
Uncle Ben had told Qin Zhong to teach him “a couple of moves,” and since Peter was obedient, he learned two.
Aunt May called them for dinner.
Qin Zhong scooped up Peter, letting him sit on his shoulders, and swayed back home.
He still had school tomorrow.
He wondered if Peter would be able to wake up in the morning; the afternoon’s exercise had been too intense.
After eating, the boy would likely crash.
Qin Zhong said his goodbyes to Uncle Ben and Aunt May and returned to his room.
Seeing the new clothes laid out on the bed, Qin Zhong smiled, took a shower, and went to sleep.