Ignoring the comment, Han Xin continued up the stairs and into his bedroom. He unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it aside when he suddenly remembered he had forgotten to tell the butler to have someone clean the bathroom. He had been trying to immerse himself in his work to forget about what happened with Xiang Yu, and it had slipped his mind. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
He picked up the shirt he had tossed on the bed, slipping it back on as he prepared to call the butler. He needed someone to come up and clean the bathroom. Sharing his personal space was something he rarely tolerated, not even with his cousin. This was why he had told Xiang Yu to keep the clothes he had given him.
Glancing at the digital clock on the side table, he saw it was already late. Han Xin hesitated, his finger hovering over the call button. With a reluctant sigh, he decided against disturbing the household staff at this hour. Instead, he made his way to the bathroom, contemplating whether to clean it himself.
As he stood in the doorway, he realised he felt no aversion to the fact that Xiang Yu had used the bathroom before him. It was an unusual feeling, one that he couldn’t quite place. With another sigh, he stepped into the shower, letting the water rush down over him, washing away the day’s tension.
After his shower, Han Xin reached for a drying towel. As he began to wipe his body, he suddenly remembered that Xiang Yu had used this towel. He clutched it, staring at it for a moment before tossing it into the laundry bin. It was then that he noticed Xiang Yu’s clothes inside the bin, a silent reminder of his presence.
Han Xin grabbed another dry towel, methodically drying himself before tossing it into the laundry bin as well. The sight of Xiang Yu’s clothes stirred something within him, a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite identify.
After changing into a set of comfortable pyjamas, Han Xin picked up the laundry bin after adding his dirty clothes and headed downstairs. He wasn’t the type to leave laundry overnight; he hated it. As he descended, he noticed the light in the kitchen was on. He knew it was Han Zhan, likely foraging for a late-night snack.
Entering the laundry room, Han Xin began sorting the clothes, tossing them into the washing machine. He paused when he picked up Xiang Yu’s t-shirt, catching a faint, familiar floral scent. He found himself inexplicably drawn to it. The urge to take a whiff was strong, but he knew it wasn’t appropriate. Still, he couldn’t resist. Just as his hand moved closer, he heard a voice behind him.
"What are you doing?" Han Zhan stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised.
Han Xin cleared his throat, quickly tossing the t-shirt into the washing machine. "Nothing," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. He added washing powder and started the machine.
Han Zhan’s brows furrowed. "Wait, isn’t that Xiang Yu’s clothes?"
Caught in the act, Han Xin turned around. "Let’s go," he said, trying to divert the conversation.
Han Zhan followed, a teasing grin on his face. "You never do my laundry. Wow, young master Han, you are really good to your employees... Let me correct that, you are very good to your employee."
"You are overthinking it," Han Xin muttered, heading towards the stairs.
Han Zhan ran in front of him, blocking his path. "Cousin, you never wash my clothes. Last time, you said, ’Do I look like a laundromat?’ when I asked you to toss my shirt with your clothes."
Han Xin was at a loss for words. "..."
"You are really overthinking it," he repeated, though less convincingly this time.
Han Zhan chuckled softly, knowing he had hit a nerve. He had lived with Han Xin for years and could read him like a book. "Sure, sure, sure," he said, his tone changing with each word.
With that, Han Zhan bit into his sandwich and walked away, leaving Han Xin standing there, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He turned and made his way back up the stairs, his mind swirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite grasp.
Xiang Yu sat in his office, the morning sun casting a warm glow through the large windows. He had just returned from dropping the girls off at school, their laughter still echoing in his mind. Now, the office was quiet, save for the incessant chatter of the Divine Emperor in his head.
"What is your plan of action?" the Divine Emperor demanded, his voice a mix of curiosity and impatience. "Other than going with the flow, you haven’t really come up with anything."
Xiang Yu chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if you let me be with Xin-ge, this could go a whole lot easier."
The Divine Emperor was flabbergasted. "You!" he sputtered.
Xiang Yu laughed, propping his feet up on the desk. "You vixen," the Divine Emperor scolded. "You have to figure it out another way. Wooing Han Xin isn’t the only way to get things done."
Xiang Yu’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "What type of person do you imagine your son with? With a father like you, he might be single for eternity."
"Someone not you," the Divine Emperor retorted.
Xiang Yu sneered, but before he could respond, his phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, his tone shifting to cold professionalism. "Hello."
"Mr. Xiang," a voice on the other end said. "Master Han is requesting your presence. He will send someone to pick you up in an hour."
"I understand," Xiang Yu replied, cutting the call. He wasn’t sure what the old man wanted from him, but he had a feeling it wasn’t good.
"Be careful of that old man," the Divine Emperor warned. "He is a monster."
Xiang Yu sneered again. "A bigger monster than me?" The Divine Emperor couldn’t even refuse that.
An hour later, Xiang Yu stood outside the tattoo shop, the familiar scent of ink and antiseptic in the air. A sleek black car pulled up in front of him, the tinted windows giving no hint of who was inside. He got in the back, the door closing with a soft thud, and the car drove off into the bustling streets.