The woman on the bed remained motionless, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling, unaware of the twisted plans unfolding beside her. She was lost, a mere shell on the brink of nothingness.
Peng Xiu's gaze lingered on her mother for a moment longer, her smile unwavering, full of promise and menace. The room thickened with anticipation, the air crackling with a sense of violence just waiting to be unleashed.
The night before
The tent was dim, shadows dancing across the fabric as the soft wind whispered outside. Inside, the air felt warm and intimate, cocooning Han Xin and Xiang Yu in their own world. Han Xin nestled closer, wrapping his arms around Xiang Yu's waist. He inhaled the sweet scent on his body and a fiery passion ignited.
