Bad times never die.
I can't help it if I don't die,
I'm afraid of what I can do.
Sad songs sounded, a touch of sunset glow reflected the sky, and the soft light was like concubine's gentle eyes.
However, this moonlight will never appear in front of your eyes again. The beauty in her arms closed her eyes, no breathing, no heartbeat, so cold.
As cold as your heart.
The breeze has blown, and perhaps the soul of concubine Yu has dissipated with the wind. In the Han camp in the distance, sad songs are constantly sung.
That's the music of the Chu people. Only your soldiers can sing those songs.
Maybe they are calling you to save them, but you have less than 1000 soldiers left.
Although winning or losing is a common occurrence in military strategists, you have vaguely felt the feeling of despair.
How many soldiers were killed or injured and how many were captured in this battle? The captured soldiers are singing sad songs in the Han camp, and God knows if they will see the sunrise tomorrow morning.
Alas, isn't it, Xiao Sun, your burial place?
No, even if you die, you can't die at the hands of the enemy; Even if you die, you must fight for the only soldier left under your command.
They are willing to give their lives for you, and the only reward you can give them is to let them go back alive.
You are less than 30 years old, you have been in the army for eight years, and you have experienced more than 70 wars. Before you became the world hegemon, you never failed once.
Being surrounded here today is the day to let you perish?
No, even if it is God's will, we should bravely fight against heaven. Even if we fall into hell, let the soldiers go back safely.
However, thousands of soldiers have died by the sword.
Tears soaked your eyes.
No, it's not tears, it's blood in my heart.
You make up your mind, even if you bleed, even if you die, don't be trapped in a cage like a caged animal. Die, also want to rush out!
You went to Wuyishan and rushed out of the camp. Moonlight pours into the sky, just like the eyes of a beautiful concubine in the past.
However, this look can only make you remember it forever.
Those Han soldiers followed quickly, cutting again and again, as if cutting your heart. Their ruthless knives took away most of your soldiers, leaving you only the last 100 soldiers.
You look up to the sky and sigh, Chu overlord. Have you ever been so embarrassed?
I will die! If you fight against the sky, you will only lose miserably forever!
Think like this, and you're lost. Passers-by don't even want to show you the way, but take you around the swamp.
When I knew the way clearly, Han Bing came after me again. Now there are only twenty-eight brothers around you who used to be tens of thousands.
The Wujiang River is ahead, which is the Wujiang Pavilion. Tingchang asked you to cross the Wujiang River and become the overlord again, but you refused.
"Xiang Yu incompetent, lose, how know yan see jiangdong elder?
"Maybe you can only apologize if you are dead!"
You gave the five mountains that followed you for many years to the director of the pavilion. In the face of the dark Han army, you resolutely led the last 28 soldiers and pulled out the nod.
Watching your soldiers fall one by one, you are numb to this war. No, it's pure killing. The numb arm mechanically waved a knife flower and inserted it into the enemy's chest.
But, what's the use? His death was only a short delay.
Suddenly, a familiar face among the generals of the Han army came into your bloodstained eyes. That's your hometown, Lv Matong.
He didn't dare to look at you, pointing to you at a distance and saying, this is the overlord of Chu, Xiang Yu.
Hearing this, you smiled indifferently.
How can a defeated soldier be king? The so-called overlord of Chu is just a hollow name.
Looking at the raging river and the bodies of the last 28 soldiers by the river, you suddenly feel unprecedented relief.
It's just a pity that the promise to the soldiers didn't come true, but they still gave their lives for themselves.
You looked up at the sky and smiled: "Since Hanwang rewarded me with a thousand dollars and Wan Huhou, please do me a favor!"
You decisively wield a knife!
The cold knife in your hand touches your equally cold and bloody neck.
Rise from the mountain and be angry with the world,
Bad times never die.
I can't help it if I don't die,
I'm afraid of what I can do.
Sad songs sounded, a touch of sunset glow reflected the sky, and the soft light was like concubine's gentle eyes.
Facing this gaze, your soul is drifting away in the long river of history.
Behind him is the eternal sunset.
(This article comes from the original composition library: /694052.shtml)