Xiang Yu forced himself upright, eyes blazing ruby red and dripping with silent venom. He longed to tear Wuheng limb from limb, to erase him from existence.
But the emerald sigil on Xue Wuheng’s wrist flared faintly whenever Xiang Yu’s rage peaked, a constant reminder that no one, divine or demonic, could touch him without the Divine Emperor’s decree.
The council had decreed his death a slow, excruciating affair. Any attempt at execution from anyone else would trigger a catastrophic backlash. He stood no chance so he could only glare at him.
For what felt like an eternity, the two locked eyes in cold stalemate, hunter and prey equally unwilling to look away. At last, Xue Wuheng leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Don’t you want to know why I did this?"
Xiang Yu said nothing.
Xue Wuheng’s expression shifted into something almost playful, as if teasing an unruly child. "Come on," he coaxed. "You must be curious... just a little bit."
Xiang Yu wiped the corner of his mouth, his scarlet gaze unwavering. He ignored the question, but Xue Wuheng didn’t care.
"You know," Xue Wuheng said, voice softening into bitter nostalgia, "you are so lucky that the one you love actually loved you back... in four lifetimes, no less."
"Even if you can’t be together in this world, you at least had the chance to hold his hand, to kiss him... I never had that chance."
His words were heavy and the sourness in jis tone couldn’t be contained. Silence fell once more, broken only by Xiang Yu’s ragged breathing as he tried to understand what this vile beast was talking about.
He shifted on the ground, telling himself not to listen but every fiber of his being drew him closer, as if the dread buried deep inside was finally surfacing. Ever since he entered the second world a nameless fear had gnawed at him.
He wondered if Han Xin would remember him when all this nightmare was over? Would the man’s heart still beat for him once he knew the truth of what he truly was? And if Han Xin recoiled, what would become of him? Xiang Yu couldn’t imagine a life without Han Xin.
He had pushed the questions down, burying them deep down in his heart. But now, faced with the man who had caused all of this, the fear clawed its way back up, twisting his insides. His arms trembled, not from cold, but from the raw pulse of emotion he could not quell.
Xue Wuheng’s gaze as he sat there was unfocused as though he was trapped distant memory. He ran a pale fingertip along the edge of his mark, the emerald lines pulsing faintly beneath his skin.
"I never had that chance," he said softly, voice tinged with something like sorrow. "He just vilified me, betrayed me, and left me here."
Xiang Yu’s brows drew together. He couldn’t place the name, or the betrayal, but his heart lurched with the weight of a secret not meant for him.
"Do you know the pain of loving someone who can never belong to you?" Xue Wuheng’s eyes flicked to Xiang Yu, but he seemed not to want an answer. His tone was more confession than question.
A bitter smile curved Wuheng’s lips. "I don’t know when it happened, but one day, I woke up and had fallen in love with Han Jun."
Xiang Yu froze. Han Jun? The Divine Emperor himself? ’Shit,’ he swore internally. He had stumbled upon a secret that he had no business knowing. Was it too late to cut off his ears?
"For all I did for him," Xue Wuheng continued, voice growing cold and jagged, "he locked me here. He moved on... had a wife, a child... while I rot in this hell." His fist clenched, knuckles white against the chair’s armrest. "No. No, I had to take something important from him, just as he took something important from me."
Xiang Yu’s heart thundered. He could not remain silent. "What did he take from you?"
Wuheng’s eyes glittered with pain and fury. "He took my heart... carved it out of my body, made me believe there was a chance, only to turn away and be with someone else." His voice cracked. "For two thousand years, I waited. I waited for him to come see me... just once! Was that too much to ask?"
Xue Wuheng’s eyes flared red, bloodshot with fury as he sprang to his feet, cloak swirling like a storm. He took two paces toward Xiang Yu, voice low and trembling with rage. "He deserted me," Xue Wuheng spat, "so you know what I did? I found your father... that idiot."
Xiang Yu’s breath stuttered. He stared as Xue Wuheng’s fists clenched, knuckles whitening. The air between them crackled with accusation.
A cold dread coiled in Xiang Yu’s gut. He had always wanted to know why his father chose his mother and why Peng Xiu was picked and not him. Now that someone could finally tell him the truth he didn’t not breath, let alone interrupt.
Xue Wuheng’s voice grew ragged. "That devil,.your father, had one job, one freaking job: get that woman pregnant. Her divine ancestry was the spark we needed to forge a living weapon powerful enough to tear down the Divine Realm." He laughed, a bitter rasp. "And what did he do? He produced twins... and picked the wrong one for the task."
Surprise, raw and hot, surged through Xiang Yu. His mother’s simple brothel life, his demon-king father’s abandonment, none had hinted at him having divine blood in his veins. "My mother... she was mortal," Xiang Yu whispered.
Xue Wuheng’s lips curled in a savage grin. "Mortal, yes... but her lineage stretched back to the Primordial Immortals. She carried a seed older than the heavens." He stepped closer, voice low and dangerous.
"Compared to your sister Peng Xiu, you carried the stronger divine spark... untainted by that filthy demon blood. You wouldn’t have become obsessed, wouldn’t have jeopardized my plan like she did."
Xiang Yu felt his body tremble, not with fear but relief. The puzzle of Peng Xiu’s selection, his own abandonment, fell into place. He had long wondered if his life,so filled with hardship, might have been different if his father had chosen him. Now, he realized that chaos had spared him from betraying Han Xin, spared Han Xin from heartbreak at his hands.
He met Xue Wuheng’s glare with unflinching eyes. "Then I am grateful," he said quietly, "that it was her he chose."
For a heartbeat, the red sky itself seemed to pause, as if the Realm of Annihilation recognized a victory in Xiang Yu’s unwavering resolve.