Xiang Yu lay on the comfortable bed his eyes fixed on the ceiling above. A self-deprecating smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced sideways at Han Xin, who lay beside him. The urge to reach out, to touch, to hold Han Xin was overwhelming, but a wave of self-loathing washed over him. He felt unworthy, tainted as if his very presence was a stain on Han Xin's purity. The thought of even looking at him felt like a transgression.
As Xiang Yu wrestled with his inner turmoil, Han Xin's body suddenly moved. His brows knitted together, and a pained expression crossed his face as if he were trapped in a nightmare. Alarm bells rang in Xiang Yu's mind. Something was terribly wrong. Han Xin's skin, usually cool to the touch, was now slick with sweat and burning hot.
