The Spirit of a Conqueror

A middle-aged chef who stayed up late writing lyrics opens his eyes to find himself the Hegemon-King of Western Chu, with just ten minutes left before he is supposed to take his own life by the Wu River.

The blade is at his throat, and his pursuers are only a hundred paces away. History says he should die. He refuses.

He crosses the river, gathers the scattered survivors, distributes land, and wages guerrilla warfare. Using twentieth-century military thinking and political skill, he crushes his opponents with an overwhelming advantage on the Chu-Han battlefields of two thousand years ago. From three hundred battered cavalrymen to claiming the throne, from “I have no face to see the elders of Jiangdong” to forcing Liu Bang to kneel and apologize.

This is not a wish-fulfillment story. The middle-aged chef’s song, “The Hegemon’s Spirit,” reaches from modern times into the ancient world, from the battlefield to the lakeside, becoming his only connection between two eras.

In a word: What would happen to history if Xiang Yu transmigrated with Mao’s Selected Works?

The Wu River is not the end. It is the starting line.