Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)-Chapter 167: Mystery man identified.

This young woman was one of the survivors found in the shipping container linked to the Die clan. After being rescued, she had been placed in social housing by the police department. Life there was a struggle, and when a volunteer at the housing home offered her a way to make money, desperation had driven her to agree. Now, she found herself in this van, her heart pounding with anxiety.

A knock on the wall separating them from the driver interrupted her thoughts. The kind man responded with a firm, "I understand." Turning back to her, he said, "Little sister, I will cover your eyes for now. Don’t worry, I will help you walk." His voice was calm and reassuring, and despite her fear, she found herself nodding.

He gently placed a blindfold over her eyes, and she took shallow breaths, trying to steady herself. The van came to a halt, and the man took her hand, guiding her out. She stumbled slightly, but his grip was steady, leading her with care.

They entered a villa, the air inside cool and fragrant. She was guided to a plush couch, sinking into its softness. Her hands rubbed together nervously, her teeth biting her lower lip. The silence was thick and oppressive until a deep voice broke it.

"No need to be nervous," the voice said, smooth and commanding. "I just need you to tell me everything you remember about that night at the port, and you will be rewarded handsomely."

Her heart raced, but she forced herself to speak. "O-okay," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "What would you like to know?"

***

Han Xin stood by the sliding door in the lounge of his seaside villa, the salty sea breeze brushing past him, carrying the scent of the ocean. He rarely smoked, but tonight was an exception. The red embers of his cigarette glowed brighter as he took a drag, the smoke curling around him like a shroud.

Inside, Han Zhan sat opposite a young woman, her eyes covered by a blindfold. Her voice trembled as she recounted the events of that fateful night at the port. "What did this man who saved you want with the two girls?" Han Zhan asked, his tone gentle but probing.

The young woman rubbed her hands together, her hesitation palpable. "They seemed to know him... they called him master," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Han Zhan leaned forward, his voice was soft and reassuring. "You are safe here. Just tell me everything."

She took a deep breath, her words coming out in a rush. "But you might think I am crazy."

"No," Han Zhan replied, his voice steady. "Trust me, nothing you can say will surprise me."

Her voice quivered as she continued, "I swear those girls were dead. They had no pulse, but suddenly they sprung up like they had new life. They used to sit silently in the corner, but now they were comforting others, telling us their master would come to save us."

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, her fear evident. "We were so terrified. We thought they were ghosts, but... when we reached the port, we heard gunfire. When the doors opened, there he was, their master. He had come to rescue them just like they said. He was a young man with the aura of a devil. He spoke kindly to us, but I could see the bloodthirsty in his eyes... He gave us phones and told us to call the police, but said we shouldn’t mention him or the girls."

Han Zhan glanced at Han Xin, whose fingers, pinching the cigarette, had paused mid-air as though lost in thought. The room was silent except for the distant crash of waves against the shore.

Han Zhan handed the young woman a piece of tissue. She took it with a shaky hand, murmuring, "Thank you," before blowing her nose. The tension in the room was thick, the weight of her story hanging heavily in the air.

After a few minutes, the young woman was gently escorted out of the villa, her steps hesitant as she was led away. The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving Han Zhan and Han Xin in the dimly lit lounge. Han Zhan exhaled deeply, leaning back on the couch, the leather creaking under his weight.

"Do you believe it?" Han Zhan asked, his voice tinged with scepticism. "Were they really dead, or were they just hallucinating from hunger?"

Han Xin remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sea met the sky. The salty breeze ruffled his hair, and he took another drag from his cigarette, the embers glowing brightly in the twilight.

Han Zhan continued, "She is describing the man to Old Lan. You will have a sketch of him soon."

Han Xin hummed in agreement, his mind drifting to the tattoo the young woman had mentioned. Neck tattoos were common in their line of work, but something about this one felt disturbingly familiar. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen it before.

Han Xin finally sat down, and Han Zhan handed him a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, catching the last rays of the setting sun. Han Zhan sat next to him with a sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on them both.

"What do you think about the girls?" Han Zhan asked, his voice low. "Do you think the Die clan messed with the wrong person, and he came to rescue those two girls specifically?"

Han Xin gestured vaguely, his thoughts a tangled mess. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice barely audible.

Just then, the man they called Old Lan entered the room, a piece of paper in his hand. "Young master Han, you’re going to want to see this," he said, his tone urgent.

Han Xin’s brow arched as he took the paper from Old Lan. When he saw the sketch, his eyes widened in surprise. Han Zhan leaned in to take a look, his expression mirroring Han Xin’s shock.

"This... how is it possible?" Han Zhan murmured, disbelief colouring his voice.

Han Xin didn’t have an answer. They had all thought Xiang Yu was dead. That was what Han Xin’s father, the Dragon Head, had told him. There was no chance Xiang Yu had survived the night he was stabbed by the Dragon Head. Yet, a few years later, he had attacked the Die clan.

Why would a man who had escaped the triads want to involve himself with them again? The question hung in the air, heavy and unanswered, as the waves crashed against the shore outside. The mystery deepened, leaving Han Xin and Han Zhan with more questions than answers.