AN: One chapter today, I needed a break. I will make up tomorrow. Thank you.
Xiang Yu walked down the stone staircase to the lawn grounds where Han Jing had shot clay pigeons the other day. The bright midmorning sun cast long shadows, highlighting the meticulous arrangement of handguns on the table before him. Each firearm gleamed under the sunlight, a testament to their lethal potential and the precision required to wield them.
The lawn stretched out beyond the table, dotted with target practice setups at varying distances. Each target stood as a silent challenge, waiting to be met with skill and accuracy. Xiang Yu's cold demeanour was as sharp as the edge of a blade, his presence commanding and intense.
