"And stay away from my produce!"
"Fine," Xiang Yu replied, reaching into his clothing and pulling out the hidden potatoes. He placed them in Han Xin's hands, the warmth of the tubers seeping into his palm as if they had just come out of the oven. His brows furrowed, feeling like they were burning a hole searing his palm.
"Go make some boiled potatoes or something with them," Xiang Yu said with a sly quirk on his lips before turning to walk away.
"And stay away from my produce!" Han Xin yelled after her, clutching the potatoes tightly.
Xiang Yu trudged back to the carriage, his shoulders slumped. He sprawled on the seat, feeling an empty, cold sensation on his chest where the potatoes had been. He had grown accustomed to having them on his chest. They kept him warm and toasty.
Lian, ever curious, noticed his unusual demeanour and pointed at his chest. "Master, what happened to your…?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Did you get robbed in a short space of time?"