Han Xin's body went rigid, his breath catching. His response was immediate, sharp. "No."
Han Jun sighed, the sound heavy with expectation. "I knew you would say that. Are you afraid he has demonic traces?"
Han Xin didn't answer. He didn't need to. The silence was enough. He already knew the truth: if Han Jingxi bore even a flicker of demonic essence, the Divine Council would not hesitate. They would condemn him. And Han Xin would be forced to fight the entire realm, a war he wasn't sure he could win.
"You know very well," Han Jun continued, "if we don't do this, he'll have a target on his back. He won't grow up safely."
Han Xin's gaze drifted to the pond, where little Jingxi was now splashing water with Lian and Mei, his laughter ringing like bells in spring. His tiny hands flung droplets into the air, soaking everyone in his path. Han Xin's eyes reddened.
He turned to Xiang Yu, whose head rested gently on his shoulder, eyes closed in quiet trust.
