Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 533: Runaway husband

"Don’t say that," Su Jing stammered, her voice shaking. "He’s not his... wi—husband, or whatever."

Han Xin’s tone cut through the silence, firm and unyielding. "From now on, don’t pick fights with him. Pack everything up, log it, and take it back."

"Yes, sir," the group murmured in unison, their deference palpable. Han Xin turned and walked out, his mind already drifting towards Xiang Yu.

***

Han Xin walked back to his place, a bag slung over his shoulder. The weight in his hands felt insignificant compared to the heaviness growing in his chest.

He couldn’t explain it, but the need to see Xiang Yu had been gnawing at him ever since they raided the bunker. Actually he had been thinking about even before he left the house. He had been thinking about Xiang Yu more than he cared to admit.

At that time, the urge to go back and wake him up and drag him along, had simmered at the back of his mind. Han Xin had fought it and tried to hold himself back.

But the longer he waited after the warehouse raid, the worse the anxiety grew until it felt like something he couldn’t contain. In the end, he gave in and headed back to his place.

When he opened the door, the house was well-lit, sunlight pouring through the open curtains. A cool breeze stirred the fabric, making it flutter softly, like silent whispers moving through the room.

For a fleeting moment, Han Xin imagined Xiang Yu standing in the kitchen, clad in an apron, his hands fumbling with utensils as he tried to cook. The thought was strange, improbable, yet it warmed his heart in a way he hadn’t expected.

He walked to the kitchen, anticipation rising. But it was empty. Spotless, as always. The counters gleamed, untouched by clutter or spills. The lounge and dining room reflected the same meticulousness.

Someone had cleaned up, though the place hadn’t been messy to begin with. Han Xin’s lips pressed into a thin line. Xiang Yu had clearly tidied the house, and the thought vexed him.

He couldn’t believe Xiang Yu who carried an air of pampered elegance would bother cleaning. It felt out of character, incongruous.

Han Xin strode to the bedroom, expecting to find Xiang Yu there. But the room was just as empty, the bed neatly made, its blanket smooth as glass.

Potato leaves swayed in the sunlight filtering through the window, serene and rhythmic, as though mocking Han Xin’s growing unease.

A cold knot twisted in his stomach. An unspeakable feeling surged within him, the notion that Xiang Yu had left. It didn’t make sense, and yet it loomed over him, suffocating. He tried to push the thought aside as he approached the closed bathroom door. His heart hammered against his ribs.

He paused, calming himself. Taking a shallow breath, he knocked softly. "Xiang Yu, are you here?"

Silence.

Han Xin’s fingers hesitated on the handle, a flicker of hope trembling in the quiet. He pushed the door open.

The bathroom was empty. Pristine tiles reflected the daylight streaming in through the frosted window. Everything was spotless. Han Xin stepped back, the hollow ache deepening in his chest.

He couldn’t shake the feeling. Xiang Yu was near... he had to be near. Yet the emptiness pressed down on him, and Han Xin stood still, alone in the silence, the unanswered question hanging like an echo in his mind.

Han Xin felt the anxiety in his chest rising, a tightness that refused to ease. He grabbed his handheld trans receiver, his fingers trembling slightly as he pressed the button. "Zhan-ge," he said, his voice low but urgent.

In the canteen, Han Zhan was halfway through a greasy plate of food. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and picked up his trans receiver. "Yeah?" he replied, his tone casual.

Around him, Su Jing and the others paused mid-bite, their eyes flicking toward him. They assumed Han Xin was about to say something important. Su Jing’s expression tightened, already bracing for whatever was coming.

"Is Xiang Yu there?" Han Xin’s voice crackled through the receiver.

Su Jing rolled her eyes, her annoyance barely concealed. Han Zhan raised an eyebrow, then stood, licking his greasy lips as he scanned the room. Xiang Yu wasn’t there. He stepped outside, the sunlight hitting his face as he replied, "No, he isn’t here."

There was silence on the other end. Han Zhan frowned, a flicker of unease creeping in. "You think he ran off?" he asked, his voice dropping. "He wouldn’t do that. At least not yet. He’s got a reason to stick around."

"What is that?" Han Xin finally replied, his tone sharp, almost challenging.

Han Zhan smirked, leaning against the wall. Han Xin was expecting him to say the twins but instead, he said, "You."

The word hung in the air, and Han Xin felt a pang in his chest, sharp and unexpected. He didn’t respond immediately, his mind racing to process the weight of that single syllable.

"Are the twins there?" Han Xin asked, his voice softer now, the edge gone.

Han Zhan chuckled, hearing the shift in his cousin’s tone. The tension had eased, just a little. "No, they’re not here. Neither is Da Hei."

Another pause. Han Zhan waited, knowing exactly what Han Xin wanted him to do. He sighed, shaking his head. "I’ll go check the greenhouse. He’s probably not there, but I’ll look."

Before heading off, Han Zhan turned back into the canteen. There was no way he was leaving his plate of food behind, not with these vultures circling. He grabbed it, balancing it carefully as he made his way out.

The radio crackled again. "Thank you," Han Xin’s voice came through, quieter this time.

Han Zhan smiled, a warmth spreading through him. His little cousin could be so endearing when he wanted to be.

Han Xin sat on the couch, his posture straight, his hands resting on his knees. He looked patient, almost too patient. But his tapping foot betrayed him, sending rhythmic beats into the quiet room. His annoyance grew with each passing second.

The handheld trans receiver buzzed to life. Han Zhan’s voice came through, casual but clear. "He’s not here. It’s just that weird kid. He looks like he’s in a bad mood."

Han Xin pressed his lips together, inhaling slowly before replying, "Okay, thanks. I think he must be with Lian and Mei at the medical centre."

"Probably is," Han Zhan said. "Let me know if you don’t find him."

"I will," Han Xin said, cutting the connection. He rose to his feet and grabbed the bag from the table.