Just when he thought he would be swallowed whole, a figure emerged through the darkness, illuminated with a warm glow. As the light grew brighter, Han Xin squinted, and the figure swam closer.
When the face finally came into focus, his heart jolted. It was Xiang Yu, but not the Xiang Yu he knew. This version was ethereal, almost otherworldly; his long, flowing hair cascaded like waves around him.
Xiang Yu's lips were a vivid red, contrasting with the pale of his skin, and his neck and chest were adorned with intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with life. Han Xin's breath caught in his throat as Xiang Yu extended his hand, revealing similar patterns that marked the back of his palm.
There was something enchanting yet forbidden about him. Han Xin felt both drawn in and overwhelmed by this vision. Xiang Yu's red-tipped fingers beckoned him, and instinctively, Han Xin raised his hand, desperate to reach him.
