The Broken Truce: A Fateful Decision

In the waning years of the Chu-Han Contention (206–202 BCE), a fragile peace briefly settled over war-torn China. Xiang Yu, the formidable Hegemon-King of Western Chu, had just returned Liu Bang’s father and wife—hostages held during their bitter struggle—and withdrawn his exhausted troops to Pengcheng, honoring the terms of the Hong Canal Agreement. Liu Bang, ruler of Han, prepared to retreat to his stronghold in Guanzhong. But his advisors Zhang Liang and Chen Ping intervened with ruthless pragmatism:

“The Han now controls most of the realm. Vassal kings defect to us daily. Xiang Yu retreats only because his men starve and his supplies fail. Heaven itself delivers him to us—if we spare him now, we doom ourselves later.”

Liu Bang hesitated. The peasant-turned-warlord had spent seven years fighting—first against the Qin dynasty, then against Xiang Yu. Was treachery now justified? The moment crystallized a fundamental truth of power: history belongs to the victors. With cold resolve, Liu Bang tore up the treaty and mobilized his armies for a final strike.

The Trap Closes: From Yangxia to Gaixia

Xiang Yu’s homeward march became a nightmare. Liu Bang’s forces harassed his troops relentlessly from Yangxia to Guling, where the Chu army—reduced to 100,000 famished veterans—finally turned to fight. Though outnumbered two-to-one, Xiang Yu’s tactical genius prevailed; he crushed Liu Bang at Guling, forcing the Han ruler to cower behind city walls.

Yet this victory proved hollow. Liu Bang, following Zhang Liang’s advice, bribed his reluctant allies—Han Xin (King of Qi) and Peng Yue (newly crowned King of Liang)—with lavish territories. Their combined forces swelled Han troops to 600,000. By December 202 BCE, the Chu army found itself encircled at Gaixia (modern Lingbi, Anhui), starving and outnumbered six-to-one.

The Battle of Gaixia: A Titan’s Last Charge

At dawn, Xiang Yu led a desperate assault. Han Xin, the brilliant strategist once scorned by Xiang Yu, commanded Han forces in a three-pronged formation. Though Chu warriors fought with legendary ferocity—”a wounded tiger still terrifies the pack”—Han Xin’s tactical withdrawals and flanking maneuvers gradually wore them down. By dusk, the Chu army retreated to their camp, their spirit unbroken but their strength spent.

That night, Liu Bang weaponized nostalgia. Han soldiers sang Chu folk songs, sowing despair among Xiang Yu’s homesick troops. The psychological warfare worked: Chu soldiers whispered that their homeland had fallen. Even Xiang Yu, drinking alone in his tent, succumbed to doubt. His beloved concubine Consort Yu, sensing his anguish, took her own life with his sword after singing:

“The Han surround us, Chu songs echo on all sides.
My lord’s spirit fails—what use is my life?”

The Final Flight: From Gaixia to Wu River

With Consort Yu buried, Xiang Yu broke through the siege with 800 cavalry. Pursued by Han forces, his group dwindled to 28 riders by the time they reached Dongcheng (modern Dingyuan, Anhui). There, Xiang Yu staged one of history’s most audacious last stands—dividing his men to confuse 5,000 Han cavalry, personally slaying a Han general, and escaping with only two losses.

At the Wu River, a boat awaited to ferry him to safety south of the Yangtze. But Xiang Yu refused:

“Heaven has doomed me. What use is crossing? With eight thousand Jiangxi youths I came west—none return alive. Could I face their fathers?”

After gifting his warhorse to the ferryman, he dismounted with his remaining men. Fighting on foot, Xiang Yu reportedly killed hundreds before falling on his sword. His body was dismembered by Han soldiers competing for Liu Bang’s bounty.

Legacy: The Romanticization of Defeat

Xiang Yu’s death marked Han dynasty’s rise, but his legend grew larger in defeat. Unlike Liu Bang—the pragmatic victor who founded a 400-year dynasty—Xiang Yu became China’s quintessential tragic hero:

– Cultural Symbol: Later poets like Li Bai romanticized his “Farewell My Concubine” moment as the epitome of doomed nobility.
– Military Paradox: Historians debate his tactical brilliance (evidenced at Guling and Dongcheng) versus strategic failures (squandered alliances, poor logistics).
– Moral Complexity: His massacres (like the 200,000 surrendered Qin soldiers at Xin’an) contrast with his refusal to recruit fresh Jiangxi conscripts, sparing his homeland further suffering.

Modern analyses suggest Xiang Yu’s fatal flaw wasn’t lack of ability, but inability to adapt. Where Liu Bang compromised and delegated, Xiang Yu trusted only his own prowess—a lesson in the limits of individual heroism against systemic power.

Conclusion: Why Xiang Yu Still Captivates

Two millennia later, Xiang Yu’s story endures because it transcends history. It’s a Shakespearean drama of hubris and heartbreak, a military case study in overextension, and a cultural touchstone for discussions of honor versus pragmatism. His final words at the Wu River—”Heaven has doomed me”—echo beyond his era, reminding us that even the mightiest conquerors are bound by the times they inhabit. In the end, Xiang Yu didn’t just lose to Liu Bang; he was undone by the very ideals that made him glorious.