Everyone knows how Xiang Yu died.
He knows, too. Two thousand years later, he has told that story two hundred times.
He also knows that Han Xin died in the Bell Chamber of Changle Palace, that Peng Yue was minced into meat and distributed among the feudal lords, and that Ying Bu was betrayed by his own people after raising an army. He knows exactly how every man who helped Liu Bang conquer the realm met his end.
Twenty-eight men. Three horses. Nine battered swords.
Others see a defeated army. He sees something else: the boy tending the horses has “garrison commander” over his head, while the deserter has “military strategist.” A line of text floats above every person, and only he can see it.
Liu Bang spent three years killing off all the men who helped him win the realm.
He spent three years gathering them one by one before Liu Bang could make his move.
By the time Liu Bang realized what was happening, the gates of Chang’an had opened from within.
