Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT) novel Chapter 533

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. _{freewebnσvel.cøm}

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.