Chapter 4760

Shiler's expression didn't change: "Herbs are bitter to begin with. You still expect modern seasonings to flavor them? There's an old Chinese saying: 'Good medicine tastes bitter.' Drink it up."

Stark coughed violently: "What do you mean 'bitter to begin with'? The one Steve gave me was clearly sweet……"

Shiler turned to look at Steve. Steve pulled out a bag from the side that had already been emptied of its contents. Shiler glanced at the Chinese on it, then thought: S. H. I. E. L. D. is quite thoughtful, knowing mutants' psychological ages aren't high, they sent over children's cold remedy granules.

"Did I offend you?" Stark acted even weaker. "Wait, who did you say prescribed this medicine just now?"

"Stephen. But he doesn't understand Chinese medicine at all. Do you think he'd bother distinguishing those herbs for your sake, then specially pick out the bitter ones to put in your medicine?"

"Like he wouldn't do it?"

"Don't slander me." A portal appeared in the center of the room. Strange walked out and said, "This wasn't specially gathered by me. It's a finished medicine packet sold in Hong Kong pharmacies. Whoever drinks it tastes the same."

"Then you drink it and let me see!" Stark stiffened his neck. "Is something this bitter fit for human consumption?!"

Strange's face was expressionless. He took the cup in front of him and downed it directly. After finishing, he only frowned slightly and said: "You think we at Kamar-Taj treat illnesses with antibiotics?"

Stark was dumbfounded. He said incredulously: "You have no sense of taste?!"

"This doesn't count as bitter in Chinese medicine," Shiler said. "After all, this formula is for cold medicine, not for clearing heat. Otherwise they'd let you know what the limit of bitterness is."

"Is there more?" Stephen asked with some curiosity. "The weather's been changeable lately. I'm afraid I'll catch a cold too. Give me a packet as well."

"I happened to decoct a few extra packets," Shiler said. "After you go out, circle around to the back door. The jar hanging over the fireplace is it. Pour it out and it should be exactly two bowls. If there's extra, just decoct it a bit longer."

Steve went to get the medicine. Stark sat to the side like a criminal awaiting execution, utterly restless. Strange gave a cold snort, wanting to make sarcastic remarks, but suddenly realized Stark was still sick, so he held his tongue and went to review case files with Matt.

"If you hadn't resisted using antibiotics, there wouldn't be all this trouble." Shiler shook his head. "Although antibiotic abuse is bad, you can't throw the baby out with the bathwater. If you can't accept the taste of herbs this much, then later, how will you drink the herbs compounded from the Clarkia flower?"

"I'm seriously considering using antibiotics now." Stark said with anguish. "How did the Chinese precisely select these unpalatable plants from among so many to make medicine? If they've been drinking this to treat illness all these years, maybe their sense of taste has degenerated……"

"You've got it backwards. It's because they're useful that they can endure the taste of these plants. Your body has almost zero drug resistance. This bowl of Chinese medicine goes down, and your illness will definitely be cured."

Stark knew Shiler was stating facts. On one hand, his body had always been excellent; he rarely got sick, not even colds. On the other hand, he almost never used any modern drugs, including herbs. The last time he used antibiotics was when he returned from Afghanistan, replacing his Arc Reactor, to treat inflammation.

Precisely because of this, he had no resistance to any drugs. Right now, just taking two anti-inflammatory pills would naturally cure the illness. But he still resisted doing so.

He knew many of his variants were addicted to alcohol and drugs. They'd even had episodes in the arena. That looked truly wretched and ugly. He absolutely would not become that kind of monster.

Before long, Steve returned. He held two bowls of pitch-black medicinal liquid. Perhaps because it had been decocted thicker and thicker, it looked even more terrifying than before. The moment he brought them over, Stark was already swallowing frantically.

Steve picked one of the bowls. He said: "Want to clink bowls?"

Stark shook his head like a rattle-drum. He said: "You drink first, Uncle Rogers."

Steve laughed heartily. He could tell Stark was scared to the extreme, even calling him Uncle, and it didn't sound heavily mocking either. If he'd known this stuff could subdue Stark, he would've risen early and stayed up late decocting medicine for him.

Steve lifted a bowl and drained it in big gulps. Halfway through, his brows furrowed. By the time he finished, his features were twitching slightly.

For someone who'd never drunk it, this was a completely new experience. Because it wasn't just bitter — there was also some sourness and astringency, even a hint of spiciness. All these flavors combined felt like an anesthetic shot to the brain. Only the first sip and the final swallow had any taste. In between, perhaps because the stimulation was too strong, the brain's protective mechanism activated, so everything was forgotten.

Steve pursed his lips and said: "Actually it's okay. Similar to that coffee from military rations I drank on the battlefield before — where water had evaporated leaving only a bit, and it had expired and spoiled. The flavor's just a bit heavier than that."

"Heavier than expired, spoiled concentrated military coffee?! Stark nearly jumped up.

"Don't act like you've drunk it before," Steve shook his head. "This is just a metaphor, not entirely accurate. After all, it's been a long time. I've almost forgotten too."

Looking at Stark grimacing, Shiler said helplessly to Steve: "Don't scare your nephew. In a bit he'll turn into your grandson."

Stark couldn't process it at all. His soul had already been half sucked away by this black medicinal liquid. After a long moment, he still shook his head and said: "Give me two anti-inflammatory pills. I mean it."

"Afraid not," Shiler shrugged. "Antibiotics count as important strategic materials in any country. If S. H. I. E. L. D. could provide them on a large scale, they wouldn't be giving out these cold remedy granules. Mutants are very short on antibiotics. We probably really can't get anti-inflammatory pills."

"Nonsense. You just want me to drink this." Stark leaned back in despair, like that crying cat meme expression.

However, feeling the weakness in his body, his throat starting to ache faintly again, and his temperature gradually rising, Stark gritted his teeth, stomped his foot, picked up the bowl and poured it into his mouth.

He shut off his brain, chugged several big mouthfuls until the bowl was empty. Instinctively he wanted to vomit. Steve was quick-eyed and fast-handed, rushing over to cover his mouth. Shiler also helped hold him down. After a long while, Stark finally crawled up from the sofa.

"You two bastards! Get me water fast!"

"No, can't drink water," Shiler shook his head. "Drinking water now would dilute it and it'd be useless. If you don't want to do this again later, just endure it."

Just then, Strange walked in, handed over a paper bag, and said: "I specially bought it outside the pharmacy. Just forgot to give it to you."

Shiler opened it and saw it was actually candied fruit preserves. Hong Kong indeed has many time-honored pharmacies, with candied fruit sold outside. Because many Chinese medicines and herbal teas can't be washed down with water after drinking — rinsing the mouth alone can't suppress the bitterness in the throat. So many people buy some sugar and candied fruit along with their medicine. Strange truly lives up to being the Sorcerer Supreme who lives at Kamar-Taj. He understands Chinese medicine and is quite thoughtful too.

Stark picked one up, looked at it, his expression fully conveying distrust. Shiler ignored him, directly tossed an apricot preserve into his mouth, chewed and said: "Not bad. Though a bit too sweet. I still prefer ones with some sourness."

"You sure this isn't sour?" Stark asked with his soul. He looked at Strange and said: "None of the specialties he brought back from Kamar-Taj were good. Those things made from highland barley and the salty butter tea — I couldn't get used to a single one. You sure this is sweet?"

Steve really couldn't stand him anymore. He directly picked up a Jiuyingzi and stuffed it into Stark's mouth. Stark was about to spit it out, then stopped, chewed a bit, chewed a bit more, and finally swallowed.

"Actually pretty good." Stark nodded, looked at Strange and said: "Count it as you having a bit of conscience."

Strange rolled his eyes and left. Shiler smiled. Don't look at them acting at odds all day — their relationship is actually quite good. It's just that the Kamar-Taj specialties Strange brings, Westerners really can't get used to. Shiler himself doesn't like highland barley things much either. The butter tea and cheese are good, but the regional flavor is too strong. Can only try them occasionally for novelty.

Stark reached for more candied fruit to stuff in his mouth. Shiler hurriedly stopped him: "This stuff is too sweet. Can't eat too much, or watch your teeth."

Stark was truly on the verge of breakdown: "Why do I have to live with you modified humans? I want to return to normal human society, catch colds and fevers like them, not act like a fragile weakling in front of you!"

"Why would you think that?" Steve said with some surprise. "I said I'm afraid of catching a cold, want to drink some medicine to prevent it. Otherwise why would I go drink those bitter-as-hell herbs?"

"You catch colds too?"

Steve barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes: "Throw a modified human into the sun and they'll die too. Any carbon-based lifeform will have various adverse reactions due to body temperature changes. As long as the temperature is low enough, any carbon-based lifeform will catch a cold."

Afraid Stark wouldn't believe him, Steve gave an example: "Just the night before last, that stormy night. If I stood outside all night, I'd catch a cold too. The only reason we mock you is that you have a daughter already, yet still don't know to close the windows tight when sleeping."

"Don't look at me." Shiler said. "I have a constant-temperature Outer God on me, so naturally I won't catch a cold. But if the Grey Mist weren't here, I'd get sick like a normal person too."

"Stephen even more so," Shiler explained. "You think he doesn't get sick because magic modified his body. Actually it's completely not that. It's because he eats light, keeps warm, practices martial arts to strengthen his body, and pays great attention to health preservation. But he's definitely been sick before. Otherwise how would he know the taste of Chinese medicine?"

"In the whole Avengers, seems like no one's never had a cold…… oh wait, there is one. Natasha's never had a cold. But not because she's a modified human — it's because she endures cold."

"But she has menstrual cramps." Shiler said. "Last time her stomach hurt, she didn't want to go on a mission, so she lied and said her PTSD flared up, and stayed in my office for half a day."

"Why didn't she just say so?" Stark was easily distracted onto a new topic.

"Then you'd have to ask why, under US labor law, menstrual cramps don't qualify for paid leave."

"But PTSD doesn't qualify either, right?" Steve also asked curiously. "I applied before. Nick didn't approve."

"If she says she's having an episode, I rush over to treat her, then we can claim travel expenses and overtime pay. We split it fifty-fifty. Counts as her salary."

Steve and Stark cursed in unison. But they weren't cursing the two of them — they were cursing US labor law.