Han Xin finished the last spoonful of chicken soup with a soft sigh, warmth blooming in his chest from the man who had made it. As Xiang Yu set the porcelain spoon down, he smiled, genuinely, despite the uneven salt and mushy carrots. Xiang Yu took the empty bowl and placed it aside with quiet satisfaction.
"You have to eat from now on," Xiang Yu said, brushing his hands together. "I will find the best chef and bring them with us."
AN: More like kidnap them.
Han Xin didn't respond. He was staring at Xiang Yu, heart in turmoil. The soup had settled in his stomach, but the truth churned restlessly inside him. How was he supposed to say it? That in his divine state, he had done something reckless, something irreversible. That now, because of it… they were going to have a child.
His finger curled around Xiang Yu's wrist, thumb gently stroking the warm skin. He opened his mouth, trying to summon the words.
