Han Xin didn't pull his hand away. He was afraid that she would get hurt so he could only resort to coaxing her. His other hand gently resting on Peng Xiu's arm, he tried to talk her into letting go. The touch of her skin wasn't as expected. Her hands weren't soft and delicate but rather toned and firm like she had done hard labour all her life.
"Your Highness," he whispered, trying to keep his voice calm. "It's me… General Han. I am just checking your wound."
Peng Xiu's eyes that had closed shut opened making his heart jump. Her eyes, glazed with delirium, locked onto his. She pulled him closer, their faces inches apart, their breaths mingling in the confined space of the carriage. He could feel the heat radiating from her feverish skin seeping into his own. He bit his lower lips slightly seeing that she wasn't letting go.
"It's Xin-ge," he coaxed gently, "let me help you."
