Xiang Yu chose not to go to Han Xin's cabin. That's because he didn't want to sully Han Xin's pristine space with Peng Xiu's blood. Instead, he walked to the cabin next door.
He made his way to the mini bar, grabbing a crystal glass. His blood-stained fingers left red fingerprints as he lifted it, a stark reminder of the violence that had just unfolded.
Biting the cork off a bottle, he poured the amber liquid into the glass, its richness glinting under the dim light. With his palm against the counter for support, he downed the entire shot in one go, the burn of the strong liquor igniting a fire in his throat.
An eerie smile stretched across his lips as he stared blankly into space, the world around him fading away. His thoughts turned inward. All he ever wanted was for his blood relatives to love him.
