"Zhao Xie has asked us for aid. Gentlemen, what do you think?" Xiang An tossed a bolt of cloth onto the floor before the dais and asked the civil and military officials filling the hall, a trace of impatience in his voice.
Zhao was in what could only be called a desperate situation.
To the north, it had already retreated to the Great Wall. To the west and south lay the Han Kingdom, while Northern Chu stood to the east.
Even the combined armies of Wei and Zhao had been unable to defeat Han Xin. Now Zhao was all that remained. Even if it gathered up some of Wei's defeated troops, what could that change?
Chen Yu and Zhang Er had once been Zhao Xie's right-hand men, but Zhang Er now stood opposed to Zhao Xie. Chen Yu alone could scarcely hold things together. There was a chance they could defeat Han Xin, but it would truly be difficult.
If it did not wish to surrender, only two paths remained before Zhao.
The first was to head north, cross the Great Wall, withdraw from the Central Plains, and completely withdraw from this war over who would rule the Central Plains.
The second was naturally to appeal to Xiang An, with whom it had relatively good relations and who had once shared ties with it during the Battle of Julu, and seek Northern Chu's aid.
Clearly, King Xie of Zhao had chosen the latter—
He was ultimately unwilling to accept defeat.
Back then, even Zhang Han's four hundred thousand Qin soldiers had endured. Could they really lose here to a mere Han Xin?
"King Xie of Zhao is a man of lofty ambition but scant ability," Xiang Lu said calmly from his seat, arms folded across his chest. "Without Zhang Er