Xiang An's old wounds from Dong Commandery City were severe. They had only just flared up on the battlefield at Xiayi after he forcibly activated his magic power, and before they had even settled, this news made him cough up another mouthful of blood.
"Big Brother... Big Brother, Fourth Uncle..." Xiang An clutched Xiang Lu's arm, looked at him with narrowed eyes, and asked, "How could he... how could he lose so quickly?"
"How could he lose so quickly?"
Xiang An took the white cloth handed over by the scout and wiped the blood from his nose and mouth. Supported by Xiang Lu, he sat down nearby and tried to ease the burning pain in his chest with deep breaths.
Xiang An's plan had been clear, and its chances of success had been extremely high.
They would head south to cut off Liu Ji's supply lines, drive away the troops led by Fan Kuai and Ren Ao in the rear, then join with the Western Chu army to the east and form an encirclement around the Han Army's main force, wiping it out in one stroke.
But—
Xiang An understood the resilience of the Western Chu army all too well.
Whether in individual martial strength or will to fight, the soldiers of Western Chu possessed endurance beyond ordinary men. And because of Xiang Yu, their unity far surpassed that of the Han Army.
So now—how had they lost so quickly?
Xiang An could not understand it. He truly could not understand it.
Western Chu was gone now. Xiang An forced himself to his feet and staggered toward the sand table.
"Xiang An, you... you need to rest." Standing behind him, Xiang Lu looked at his broad yet slightly hunched back and called out.
"I can't rest. I can't rest." Xiang