Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 182: Hose him down

Han Xin walked towards the bound Die Liang, who lay on the floor looking as if he were facing the executioner. Die Liang’s terror was palpable; he crawled back, his face flushed with fear. He was even more terrified than when facing Xiang Yu. In fact, he would rather face Xiang Yu right now instead of Han Xin.

Han Zhan, observing the scene, couldn’t help but comment, "What was Xiang Yu wearing? The pink cap with fluffy pom-poms and that ripped sweater were truly hard to ignore. If only they had sent the entire get-up with the face mask, it would have been more interesting to look at."

Han Xin, hands in his pockets, wasn’t concerned with Xiang Yu’s attire. His focus remained on Di Liang. Han Zhan, not expecting a response, settled onto the couch and remarked, "Xiang Yu is truly efficient. It didn’t take him long to do the job. I like his efficiency."

Peng Xiu, standing with her arms folded and a look of annoyance, frowned at the praise for Xiang Yu. She hadn’t expected Xiang Yu to be working with Han Xin, and what infuriated her most was that Han Xin hadn’t informed her.

Despite years of trying to cultivate a relationship with Han Xin, he still didn’t trust her enough to share such details. Her hatred for Xiang Yu intensified. She had intentionally gotten face cream in her hair, hoping Han Xin would notice and help her. She had pretended not to know where the cream was, hoping Han Xin would reach out and touch her hair. But Xiang Yu had ruined the moment, making her miss out on a romantic setup.

Peng Xiu was so upset that she wanted to deal with Xiang Yu and remove him from the picture. She considered speaking to her chief to see if they could lock up Xiang Yu and separate him from Han Xin for a while. freewebnoveℓ.com

Han Zhan took a whiff of the air and covered his nose. "What is that smell?" he asked. Die Liang, knowing it was his socks, looked at Han Zhan and almost broke into tears. If he had known his stinky socks would attract this much attention, he would have washed them.

Han Xin felt irritable for some reason. He called out, "Ran Lan." Ran Lan, who was counting the minutes before his shift ended, ran over and bowed his head. "Yes, sir."

"Take him outside and hose him down," Han Xin ordered. Die Liang’s expression turned panicked, and he began to yell in a muffled voice. Ran Lan, annoyed that he had to work overtime because of this man, picked him up harshly and dragged him away. Die Liang’s muffled cries faded into the distance.

Han Xin ran his fingers through his hair, his expression impassive. Peng Xiu turned to him and asked, "Xin-ge, who was the guy from before?" She knew who Xiang Yu was but pretended not to.

"You don’t have to worry about him. Just go home; it’s getting late," Han Xin replied before heading upstairs, leaving Peng Xiu stunned. She was hoping he would invite her to stay in the guest room like in the past but she was shooed away like a chicken.

Han Zhan got up and said, "Well, I have to go to bed. Goodnight." He also walked up the stairs, feeling quite awkward.

***

Xiang Yu sat in the car, his expression cold and unyielding. His eyes, bloodshot and weary, struggled to contain the storm of anger brewing within him. The soft sound of music from the radio did little to soothe his turbulent emotions. As he drove through the dimly lit streets, the silence in the car was punctuated only by the occasional hum of the engine.

When he reached a red light, the dam holding back his frustration broke. He struck the steering wheel repeatedly, each blow a desperate attempt to vent the emotions that churned inside him.

His breaths came in ragged gasps as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cool leather of the steering wheel. His grip tightened, knuckles turning white with the force of his hold.

He was furious with himself for losing control. Throughout his life, he had faced countless challenges and learned to restrain his emotions, a lesson ingrained in him since childhood. But seeing Han Xin touch someone else had shattered his composure. Jealousy gnawed at him, a bitter taste that he couldn’t swallow. He couldn’t even muster a fake smile to mask his feelings in that moment.

The blare of a car horn jolted him back to reality. He lifted his head and saw the impatient driver in the car behind him. With a deep, steadying breath, he shifted the car into gear and drove off, the red light now green. The journey home was a blur, his mind replaying the scene over and over, each repetition stoking the embers of his jealousy. His desire to strangle Peng Xiu had intensified. He want her dead but he couldn’t just kill her, at least not yet.

***

Xiang Yu lay sprawled on his bed, clad only in a pair of shorts. The previous night had been unbearably hot, and in his exhaustion, he hadn’t bothered to turn on the air conditioner. Instead, he had pulled off his clothes and collapsed on top of the quilt, passing out cold. His fatigue was so profound that he slept through the morning, oblivious to the world around him. His phone, meanwhile, buzzed incessantly until it finally powered off.

In his office, Han Xin was struggling with his work. His efficiency was unusually low, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. He had instructed his assistant to call Xiang Yu and inform him to come to the office in the afternoon. However, his assistant had reported back that Xiang Yu hadn’t answered the call.

By eleven o’clock, Han Xin’s patience had worn thin. He called his assistant into the office. The older man entered, bowing slightly. "Yes, sir?"

Han Xin flipped through the pages of a project proposal, his brow furrowed. "Have you informed Xiang Yu yet?"

The assistant shook his head. "I haven’t been able to contact him, sir. His phone is now unavailable. I am trying to get hold of the tattoo shop number."