Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 539: Is it safe to walk in?

Han Zhan scratched his head, his expression incredulous. "How the fuck does he know these things? It’s like he sees things others can’t."

He paused, suspicion creeping into his tone. "Or maybe he’s the one who brought those assassins here. To make himself look good in front of you."

Han Xin’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "You know it’s not him."

Han Zhan threw up his hands. "See, see? If that’s his plan, it’s working."

Han Xin’s jaw tightened as he turned away from the window. "Lock down the entire city. Invoke strict measures. No one moves without authorization."

Han Zhan nodded, though his frown lingered. "Okay. And you? What are you going to do?"

"I am going to talk to Xiang Yu," Han Xin said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Han Zhan hesitated, then stepped in front of him. "Wait, wait, wait. Why does it have to be you? I can go talk to him."

Han Xin’s expression was as cold as ever, but there was a flicker of something else in the way he held himself as he replied. "He will only talk to me."

Han Zhan raised an eyebrow, his scepticism clear. "Really? And why is that?"

Han Xin’s answer was simple, delivered with a calm certainty that left no room for argument. "Because I am his husband."

Han Zhan blinked, his mouth opening and closing as though searching for a response. Finally, he exhaled sharply. "...Damn it."

Han Xin strode past him, his steps firm and purposeful. Though his face betrayed nothing, there was a subtle pride in the way he carried himself, something Han Zhan noticed immediately. He cursed under his breath before rushing to catch up with him, shaking his head in exasperation.

The two men moved through the dimly lit streets, the night air thick with tension. Han Xin’s focus was razor-sharp, his expression as unreadable as ever.

But beneath the surface, something burned. It was a spark he couldn’t ignore, a pull he couldn’t fight. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Han Xin had never imagined a day like this. He was standing outside Lian and Mei’s door, feeling like a husband locked out by his own spouse. It was a strange, unsettling feeling.

He had returned home earlier, hoping to find Xiang Yu there, but the house was empty. The bed had been slept on, the blanket still crumpled, and the faint scent of Xiang Yu lingered in the air. He had been there. So why had he left?

Outside, near his home, Han Xin had found another dead assassin. The sight had sent a jolt of panic through him. He had rushed to Lian and Mei’s place, his steps quick and urgent. But now, standing at their door, he wasn’t getting the reception he had expected.

Lian and Mei were still awake, but they weren’t letting him in. Mei stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression unyielding. "Sorry, Lord Han," she said, her voice firm as she emphasised the way she was addressing him. "It’s already too late. You should come back tomorrow."

Behind her, Lian was leaning against the doorframe, chewing on a piece of dried meat. "Yeah," she said, her tone casual. "We are tired."

Han Xin’s jaw tightened. "I won’t disturb you," he said, his voice calm but insistent. "I just want to talk to him for a bit."

Mei shook her head. "He said there are no more assassins for the night, so you can rest easy... Now you can go."

Han Xin felt a flicker of frustration, something rare for him. He wasn’t used to being shut out like this. "You two used to listen to me," he said, his tone firm. "Now you only listen to him?"

Lian and Mei exchanged a glance, then chuckled, as if they had heard something funny. Lian shrugged. "Well, yeah. Because we like him more."

Mei nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "He is nice. He brought us water and snacks."

Han Xin exhaled sharply, his frustration growing. "Fine," he said, biting back his irritation. "Can you at least tell me if he’s hurt?"

Mei hesitated, then shook her head. "Physically, no. But his heart probably."

Lian clicked her tongue, her expression disapproving. "Tsk. What kind of husband doesn’t say when he is not coming home and lets his wife stay up worried?"

Mei leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she studied Han Xin. "You better not have been having an affair, Lord Han."

Han Xin blinked, caught off guard. "What affair? What are you even talking about?"

Before he could say more, Lian slammed the door in his face. The sound echoed in the quiet night, leaving Han Xin standing there, confused and frustrated.

His hand hovered in the air, ready to knock again, but just as he raised his fist, the light was switched off.

***

Han Xin had been forced to leave the twins’ place the night before, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. The entire night, he found himself tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep.

His mind raced, replaying the events over and over. At some point, he gave up on sleep entirely and decided to keep himself busy.

He pulled out his cleaning kit and began methodically disassembling his gun collection. Each piece was taken apart, cleaned, and reassembled with meticulous care.

He worked in silence, the dim light of the room casting long shadows around him. The rhythmic process was supposed to calm him, but the dark circles under his eyes and the tension in his hands told a different story.

When Han Zhan arrived the next morning, he wasn’t prepared for what he found. Pushing the door open, he froze at the sight of Han Xin sitting in the dark, surrounded by disassembled guns, his expression blank and his movements precise. The scene was so unnerving that Han Zhan slammed the door shut without thinking, his heart pounding.

After a moment to collect himself, he cautiously opened the door again. "Is it safe to walk in?" he asked, his voice hesitant.

Han Xin didn’t look up. He continued cleaning the gun in his hands, his movements steady but intense.

Han Zhan stepped inside, keeping a careful distance. "Been busy, huh? Catching up on some cleaning?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Han Xin set the freshly reassembled gun on the table and picked up another one without a word.

Han Zhan hesitated before asking the inevitable. "So, about last night... what did he say?"

Han Xin didn’t reply immediately, his focus still on the gun. A long silence stretched between them.

Suddenly, Han Zhan’s eyes widened in realization. "Wait... where’s Xiang Yu? Shouldn’t he be here?"

When Han Xin said nothing, Han Zhan’s voice rose in alarm. "Did you... did you kill him?!"

He bolted toward the bedroom, expecting to find a cold, bloodied corpse. But the room was empty, the bed neatly made. Han Zhan ran to the bathroom, yelling, "You can’t be serious! I didn’t mean for you to kill the guy, just be wary of him!"