Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 558: K. I. S. S. I. N. G

Han Zhan and Kai Wang watched them, curiosity evident in their expressions. "Where are you going?" Han Zhan called after them.

"To the car. I will be right back," Han Xin shouted over his shoulder.

They didn’t walk far, sliding down the mountain until they reached the vehicle. Han Xin opened the tap on the insulated tank at the back of the car.

He handed Xiang Yu a bar of soap, watching as Xiang Yu began to wash his hands, scrubbing vigorously against the dirt and blood that had marred his skin.

As the water flowed, Han Xin watched with a tight knot in his chest as Xiang Yu scrubbed fervently at his hands. The rough texture of the soap lather was turning Xiang Yu’s skin a painful shade of red. Han Xin stepped closer, instinctively reaching out to grasp Xiang Yu’s wrist. "Don’t rub so hard," he urged softly.

Xiang Yu paused, a flicker of annoyance at the dirt on his hands crossing his face, mingled with distraction. "I know you have mysophobia," he replied absently, diving back into his task of rinsing his face with roughly splashed water.

Han Xin’s brow furrowed in surprise. Did Xiang Yu really notice his quirk? But Xiang Yu, engrossed in his own ritual, seemed oblivious to Han Xin’s reaction. He continued to lather soap across his face, scrubbing thoroughly, as if the remnants of that assassin clung stubbornly to his skin.

Once done, Xiang Yu rinsed his face with a fervour that matched his earlier scrubbing. Han Xin was there, towel in hand, ready to hand it to him. He offered the towel, watching as Xiang Yu dried his skin, droplets of water glimmering in the sunlight.

As Xiang Yu finished, Han Xin acted on impulse. He gripped Xiang Yu’s waist tightly and pressed him against the car. Their lips met in a fierce kiss, and a whirlwind of emotions poured out in that moment.

Xiang Yu was startled, yet the warmth of Han Xin’s touch drew him in. He surrendered, their tongues entwined, breaths mingling in the space between them.

Xiang Yu could feel that things were getting out of hand so he pushed gently at Han Xin’s chest, in case there was trouble. Yet Han Xin pulled him closer, their mouths fused together in a desperate embrace. The outside world faded, the only noise the soft, wet sounds of their kisses amidst the wasteland.

Suddenly, a crackle burst through the warm intimacy. Han Zhan’s voice, detached and distant, interrupted, "Ah’Xin, he is not talking." The moment shattered like fragile glass, leaving the two panting, foreheads pressed together, pulse racing.

"Will you be okay staying alone?" Han Xin asked between quick breaths, concern etched across his face.

Xiang Yu chuckled lightly, his voice teasing. "What are you afraid of? A wild man will come and grab me while you’re gone?"

Han Xin couldn’t help but chuckle too as he brushed his fingers lightly at the corner of Xiang Yu’s eye, warmth spreading through him at the sight of that familiar grin. Just then, Han Zhan’s voice broke in again, more insistent, "Han Xin, if you don’t reply, I will take it as something happened."

"Pick it up," Xiang Yu urged, mischief glinting in his eyes.

Han Xin hesitated, but at that moment, he leaned in to plant a fleeting kiss on Xiang Yu’s lips. "I am coming," he replied, torn between duty and desire.

"Be vigilant," Han Xin added softly.

"I will. Come back soon, husband." Xiang Yu’s voice, light and teasing, made Han Xin’s heart flutter. The word hung in the air, sweet and intoxicating, sending a dizzy wave through him.

Han Xin stared for a moment, almost tripping over his own feet in disbelief. Xiang Yu stifled a laugh at the sight, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "Don’t fall! The only falling you will be doing is falling in love with me," he teased, his smile bright against the barren landscape. Heat rushed to Han Xin’s face, flooding him with warmth.

***

The assassin lay sprawled on the ground, his face grotesque and swollen like a pig’s head. His features were barely recognisable, teeth knocked out, each breath a struggle. He thought that Xiang Yu was evil but the moment Han Xin lay his hands on him, he finally knew what evil was. Han Xin’s presence was like a cruel force that redefined the meaning of the word.

The assassin’s legs pointed grotesquely in the wrong direction, bones cracking under the merciless grip of pain. He gasped, his body wracked with agony, but the sound of his torment barely registered above Han Zhan’s cold demeanour. Han Zhan knew his cousin’s nature all too well; he stood stoic while the screams of the man echoed like a thunderous alarm, reaching Xiang Yu and the rest of the team in the distance.

On top of a nearby car, Su Jing stood with her weapon firmly in hand, scanning the mountains surrounding them. One of the women in the team, eyes wide, asked, "Sister Jing, what do you think that is?"

Su Jing’s gaze remained fixed, sharp and unyielding. "It sounds like a beast," she replied, her voice steady.

Meanwhile, Han Xin towered over the wounded man, his cold gaze unflinching as he observed the blood seeping into the dry, sandy soil, soaking it up like a parched sponge. "Do you want a fast death, or would you rather I leave you here to die slowly? Your choice," he said, his voice as icy as the twilight that surrounded them.

The assassin’s breath came in heavy gasps, the panic and dread reflected in his dilated eyes. "M-my pocket," he stammered painfully, struggling to speak through his injuries.

Han Zhan complied, rifling through the man’s pocket. He pulled out a small device, its screen blinking urgently with updated messages about assassination contracts and locations.

"Is it good enough?" Han Xin asked, his voice devoid of emotion. Han Zhan nodded. "Yes."

"Where is the capsule he was going to use to kill himself?" Han Xin pressed, casting a glance at Kai Wang, who produced a small silver container filled with pills.