There were quite a few ferry crossings along the south bank of the Yellow River, stretching west to Xingyang and east to Eastern Commandery. Yet Xiang An had specifically chosen White Horse City in the east rather than a crossing farther west, even though attacking Anyang from farther west—and crossing the Huan River—would have been much more convenient.
"This is preparation for our future strategy." Xiang An shook his head as he spoke to Han Xin. "What we truly need right now isn't a large crossing like Xingyang or Pingyin. What we need is stability."
"The west is not only close to Xianyang, but also where many rivers converge. The Yellow River, Shao River, Fen River, Luo River, Yi River, Sui River, Wen River—there are already so many major rivers just among those with names. The waterways are tangled and complex, bringing far too many variables." Xiang An pointed at the location of White Horse City. "White Horse is in a simple position, right beside the Yellow River. Other than the Yellow River, there are no major rivers nearby."
"But if we do this, wouldn't that mean..." Han Xin frowned, seemingly about to say something.
"Hey, Old Han, let me finish first." Xiang An raised a hand and pressed it down, signaling Han Xin to stop talking.
"There are many waterways in the west. Even if we of Western Chu are skilled at naval warfare, we don't have enough troops to control them all. We have fewer than ten thousand men left, Old Han." Xiang An wore a mournful expression as his lowered hand slowly moved down to rest on the table.
When he had split from Xiang Yu with his army, he had indeed brought over ten thousand men with him. To be exact, there had been 11,554 people,