The Mighty Mage - Chapter 496: Golden Feather

Su Yao passed through and traveled to the Marvel world to become a mutant. He was still in the experimental base. He expressed a little panic…

Fortunately, at the critical moment, the mutant ability ‘imitation’ was awakened to imitate the opponent’s ability!
…
Imitation object→Orochi (title: Sun God, Will of the Earth)
Imitation object→Wanda (title: Scarlet Witch, owner of chaos magic)
Imitation object → Sun God…
…
Professor X: “We must find him as soon as possible and guide him to control his power to avoid causing irreparable disasters!”
Magneto: “You are my child???”
Thor: “Brother?”
Loki: “?”

- Description from novelbuddy

Feng Ming was only 19 when he lost his life saving a child from death without hesitation. The grateful father of the rescued child grants Feng Ming a second chance at life. Unknown to Feng Ming, his soul has whisked away to a far away ancient land (resembling the dynasties of China).

Kenji had become the Emperor’s right hand man which he always wanted to be. He thought that this position would help him to become one of the most popular and powerful figure in history, He did not know that the newly crowned Emperor considered him as a threat. Secrets were being prepared to deal with this ‘dangerous subject’ who had become too influential to be ignored.“Oh, Dearest brother, I have to congratulate you on your well-deserved hire! How great must it feel to receive a court audience and the special joy of having a sword under your head before the imperial family!” The emperor said warmly.'Oh dearest sister... Your congrats are out of place... you just made the situation worse...'

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.