The new sanatorium has a very beautiful back garden. The level of the gardener at a luxury hotel in the best location of New York will not disappoint. Layers of shrubs and flowers, plane trees, beeches, and various broad-leaved trees cast thick shadows. What Shiller likes most is the porch outside the back door, with columns and roof all covered with the same kind of red roses as the backyard walls. The sunlight filters through the gaps in the leaves and petals, and when sitting on the porch, you can just see the plants in the garden vying for beauty, reminiscent of a summer in the European countryside painted by Monet.
As the evening temperature dropped, Shiller moved a deck chair to the right side of the porch. Hearing a few "dong dong dong" sounds, he opened his phone and saw that he was almost removed from all the group chats.
He sighed. Peter happened to open the kitchen window, stuck his head out, and asked, "Doctor, why isn't the oven powered on? I finally got the batter ready, and the hot raspberry pie will be out soon."
"There's a switch behind the fridge," Shiller said, "if you turn it on, it seems it will work. But I must remind you, you've failed four times already. I'm sure the sanatorium's trash can won't play the vinyl records you throw in it. Make sure to pay attention to the heat this time, okay?"
Peter groaned dejectedly and said, "I clearly followed the recipe my aunt gave me…"
"Did you? What about the extra 200 grams of sugar?"
"I thought it'd taste better sweeter."
"Berry jam?"
"To add flavor."
"Banana puree?"
"From a short video I watched."
"Watermelon juice?"
"Heard it would make the dough softer."
"I have to say, Peter," Shiller sat up from the deck chair, looked at Peter and said, "You should go see Tony."
"He would like my cooking style?"
"He'll make your cooking skills seem less terrible. I don't know anyone else other than Tony Stark who could continuously fail at the simplest raspberry pie four times in a row. In cooking, being overly innovative isn't a good thing."
Peter went back to the kitchen to busy himself again. Shiller lay by the window looking at his phone and sighed: "They actually kicked me out of the birthday group. Oh my, isn't Steve afraid he will see a stack of vinyl records placed on the food counter on his birthday? I'm the best cook among you, and you kicked me out. What's the point of this birthday feast?"
"They kicked you out?" Peter was somewhat surprised, turned back to find his phone, took off his flour-covered gloves, opened the phone screen, and sure enough, several groups showed Shiller being kicked out of the chat.
"What did you do, Doctor?"
"Hmph, all I did was give a bit of guidance to a confused couple, putting a little effort into mending their relationship." Shiller extended One Hand, with forefinger and thumb pinched together.
And Peter saw an entire cosmos in between.
Early the next morning, in the activity room at the Avengers Base, Steve threw himself on the spacious sofa. Coulson opened two beers and poured two cups of coffee, placed them both on the same tray, and brought them next to the coffee table.
The side door made a "click" sound, and in walked Dr. Banner.
"Good morning, Steve! I saw that Doctor Shiller was kicked out by you guys, what did he do again?"
"It's hard to explain," Steve shook his head and looked at him, "you know, everything Shiller does is hard to explain. That's exactly what he wants."
"Alright. I'm just here to ask, is Carter allergic to nuts? Or anything else?"
"No," Steve said, "Are you planning to make something with nuts?"
"Yes, I learned a very delicious nut chocolate cake recipe from Betty's great aunt, I'm planning to try it."
"Carter isn't allergic, but I suggest you check with others, they might have nut allergies."
"Come on, other than Agent Carter, those superhumans, even if they're allergic, won't die. And I have to say, this cake is absolutely worth the risk of trying..."
"Hey! Steve! We've come back early!" The door was opened, and Wolverine Logan barged in. Steve quickly stood up to hug him and said, "You really didn't have to come all this way, it's not a big deal..."
"Don't say that, everyone would be honored to attend Captain America's 100th birthday." Jean said from behind.
Steve's gaze quickly swept between the two of them. Logan winked at him, and the two walked inside shoulder to shoulder.
"Scott finally managed to piss Jean off this time, they broke up." Logan grabbed a beer from the side, pried open the cap with his claw, and said, "This is my best chance."
"Honestly, I don't agree with you doing this. I know you weren't trying to steal someone away, but... well, whatever."
Logan was a bit surprised and said, "Why aren't you trying to talk me out of it this time? Every time I bring this up, you always have a long list of reasons."
"Yeah, I used to think you guys were already unreasonable, but now it turns out I've met someone even more unreasonable." Steve leaned against the wall, holding his forehead with his hand, and said, "I got up two hours early this morning just in case the hospital called."
"What happened?" Logan said nervously, "Is there something wrong with Carter and the baby?"
"No, it's Bucky." Steve briefly explained to Logan what happened last night. To his surprise, Logan didn't seem to care.
"What's the big deal? They're all adults. Even if things got a little intense, as long as they enjoyed themselves, it's nobody else's business. Besides..."
Steve leaned his head forward slightly. Logan glanced around, especially at Jean, and then leaned into Steve's ear to whisper a few words. Steve looked at him incredulously.
"Are you serious?!" Steve said, looking at Logan.
"Of course, I can't help it either." Logan shook his hand and said, "I went to see a psychiatrist who did some tests and said it's an instinctive reaction. If it happened in childhood, it might have been corrected, but now it's certainly not possible."
"So you're focusing on pursuing Jean because she won't get accidentally slashed by your claws when you're overly excited?"
"That's not the whole reason," Logan said, "but it is partly why. You wouldn't want to know what it feels like to see smooth human tissue sliced into pieces at the peak of excitement, and it's still warm..."
Steve cringed, pushing Logan away as he walked back to the sofa with an exasperated expression. Coulson noticed he was distracted and handed him a cup of coffee, saying, "What's wrong, Captain? Didn't enjoy your chat with Logan?"
"No, it's just that I'm realizing there are more weirdos around me... I mean people who aren't so normal than I thought."
"That's normal, Captain." Coulson shrugged and said, "Superpowers and mutants can't really be called normal. Their physical structure and abilities differ from ordinary people, so naturally, they have some unique habits. As long as they don't endanger public safety, no one can interfere."
"And to be precise," Coulson leaned forward, holding the coffee cup in both hands, "Captain, you're the one who's not normal."
Steve looked at him. Coulson continued, "It could be a limitation of the technology from your era. Most cyborgs who went through genetic modification have the same issue: excessive energy. Your adrenaline secretion level is much higher than ordinary people, giving you more sensitive senses, stronger physical abilities, and better endurance, but also making you more excitable."
"Due to the excitement caused by such physiological hormones, your mental excitement threshold is much higher than others. Regular sexual activities might not bring you enough pleasure, and modified individuals may need deeper stimulation to feel pleasure."
Steve fell into contemplation. In fact, he was recollecting, recalling his experiences in emotional relationships. But he still shook his head and said, "I don't feel that way. When I'm intimate with my loved one, I feel very satisfied."
"Yes, but that's only mental satisfaction," Coulson said. "Because you love her, physical contact with him has meaning in your mind, and that meaning makes you feel satisfied. Captain, you're fortunate. You have plenty of love in your heart, so even if you don't seek physical stimulation, you can fill yourself. That's what's healthy and normal. But it's hard to expect everyone to have that ability, especially those who've been through tough experiences; their love might have been exhausted long ago."
Thinking of Bucky and Natasha's experiences, Steve remained silent. But he still turned his palm, saying with a complex expression, "But even if they need stimulation, they shouldn't... I mean, how does that bring such intense excitement?"
"I have no idea." Coulson shook his head and said, "This involves the complex mechanics of the human body's transmission system with the mind. If you're truly curious, you could ask Doctor Schiller."
"Oh, dear." Steve first covered his forehead, then rubbed his face with his hand and said, "No way. If there's a hierarchy among these weirdos, Doctor Schiller would be their Pharaoh. Discussing such perverted topics with him would make my brain feel contaminated. I will absolutely not ask."
"Alright. But I must say, realizing now that the number of abnormal people around you has increased isn't a bad thing."
"Why?"
"It's better than realizing it at a birthday party. Captain, you'd better not have any special expectations for the dishes they bring. I've already contacted S.H.I.E.L.D.'s medical team, ready with a full set of stomach-pumping equipment, on standby for that night."
"Not that exaggerated, right?" Steve said, "Even if they can't cook, they could follow a recipe, and there shouldn't be much of a problem. Allergic reactions are the main concern, but as Dr. Banner said, modified individuals shouldn't get food poisoning."
"Do you know another side effect brought by mental excitement, Captain?"
"What is it?"
"Divergent thinking, sudden inspiration, like to add extra creativity when doing something. If applied to cooking, it's hard to imagine how the dishes will turn out."
"But at least there are still a few normal people," Steve said, nodding.
"Yes, there are a few, but not many." Coulson said, "And if you think I should be included, then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I spent the entire day yesterday trying to make a chiffon cake, ended up wasting a dozen eggs, and made no progress at all."
Steve sighed deeply, took out his phone to send a message to Carter, warning her not to eat anything casually on that night.
Just then, with a 'bang,' the door was pushed open. Bucky and Natasha walked in one after the other, both looking energetic and glowing as if they had aged backward by a hundred years combined.