On the huge battlefield, only three hundred thousand troops remained.
In Xiang Yu's tent, the various princes and lords had gathered once again.
"General Xiang, what should we do now?"
Xiang Yu sat in the commander seat. He kept silent and did not speak a word. Fan Zeng sat at the side; his eyebrows tightly locked.
The experience of being captured made Fan Zeng really sensitive. He felt that the eyes of the lords and princes looked at him with contempt and mocking.
In truth, why would they think that?
After a long while, one of the princes carefully said, “Why don’t we surrender?"
The air in the entire tent instantly froze like they had touched upon some kind of forbidden curse.
"Bastard!"
Xiang Yu raged. He slammed his palm onto the table, which caused the wine on it to fly everywhere.
"Even if I die fighting, I won't surrender to those Qin thieves."
Xiang Yu hollered; filled with arrogance.
