"For crimes other than war... I will die..." He laughed three times, but there was a hint of exhaustion in his voice. After laughing, he stabbed himself with a horizontal sword. A cold feeling hit his neck, and the world instantly overturned. But death was not as complete as imagined. In the darkness, a ray of consciousness drifted. Xiang Yu thought he was going to see the King of Hell, but his eyes suddenly lit up. When he opened his eyes, Xiang Yu saw a tent ceiling embroidered with cloud patterns. His body was as light as a newborn colt, with the body of a tiger and the arms of an ape, but his strength already seemed to be extremely strong. He sat up suddenly and touched his neck. It was intact. He stood up and walked to the bronze mirror. In the mirror is a young and heroic face, with sharp eyebrows and starry eyes, a high bridge of nose, and a strong jaw line. This was the 24-year-old Xiang Yu. That year, he had just launched an army against Qin with his uncle Xiang Liang. The Battle of Julu had not yet started, Pengcheng had not yet fallen, and Gaixia was a distant nightmare. But at this time, he had an extra memory of later life - after being stunned for a long time, Xiang Yu suddenly laughed, "God, are you kidding me? Or do you really want me to do it again?"
