The Road to Desperation: From Gaixia to Wujiang

The year was 202 BCE, and the once-mighty Western Chu found itself cornered at Gaixia. Xiang Yu, the self-styled “Hegemon-King of Western Chu,” faced the combined forces of Liu Bang’s Han army numbering 600,000 troops. In a daring midnight escape, Xiang Yu broke through enemy lines with just 800 cavalrymen – a remarkable feat given the overwhelming odds. The Han forces didn’t discover his escape until dawn, when Liu Bang dispatched General Guan Ying with 5,000 cavalry in pursuit.

As Xiang Yu fled southward, his forces dwindled rapidly. By the time they crossed the Huai River, only about 100 riders remained. The situation turned catastrophic at Yinling (modern northwest Dingyuan, Anhui), where a deceptive farmer deliberately misdirected them into swampy terrain. This critical delay allowed Han forces to close in, reducing Xiang Yu’s retinue to a mere 28 horsemen by the time they reached Dongcheng (southeast Dingyuan), facing 5,000 pursuing Han cavalry.

The Final Battle: Defiance Against Destiny

Cornered but unbroken, Xiang Yu addressed his remaining warriors with words that would echo through history: “I have fought over seventy battles in eight years. Those who opposed me were crushed; those I attacked submitted. Never defeated, I dominated the world. Today’s predicament isn’t my failure in battle, but Heaven’s will to destroy me.” Determined to prove his martial prowess one last time, he divided his 28 riders into four squads that charged from different directions, regrouping thrice to confuse the enemy.

The ensuing combat became legendary. Xiang Yu personally slew a Han general and dozens of soldiers, losing only two men from his tiny force. When his men acknowledged his earlier claim of invincibility, the demoralized Han troops hesitated. Even Yang Xi, a Han cavalry commander, reportedly retreated several li after Xiang Yu’s terrifying battle cry – a phenomenon earlier described by Han Xin: “When Xiang Yu roars, a thousand men collapse in fear.”

The Psychology of Defeat: Why Wujiang?

After this tactical victory, an unexpected opportunity emerged at the Wujiang River. The local ferry master offered escape to Jiangdong (east of the Yangtze), assuring Xiang Yu that the region’s thousands of square li and hundreds of thousands of inhabitants could support his rule. Yet Xiang Yu declined with tragic nobility: “When Heaven destroys me, what use is crossing? My 8,000 Jiangdong youths followed me west – none return. What face have I to see their elders?”

This moment reveals Xiang Yu’s complex psychology. Historians debate his shifting intentions – first fleeing, then fighting desperately, then considering escape again before final refusal. Three factors likely influenced his decision: belief in heavenly mandate (天之亡我), shame at his failures (耻于起兵), and remorse for the suffering caused by his wars. Unlike Liu Bang, who sacrificed family and subjects for power, Xiang Yu had expressed concern for war-weary civilians during the Chu-Han contention.

Death and Aftermath: The Making of a Legend

In his final act, Xiang Yu gifted his beloved horse to the ferry master and engaged the Han forces on foot. After reportedly killing over a hundred enemies while sustaining multiple wounds, he recognized former subordinate Lü Matong among his pursuers. Learning of the bounty on his head (1,000 catties of gold and 10,000-household fiefdom), Xiang Yu declared “I’ll do you this favor” and committed suicide by sword. His body became grisly loot, with five Han officers dividing the remains to claim rewards – all subsequently ennobled by Liu Bang.

Liu Bang’s subsequent performance of mourning – complete with elaborate burial rites and public weeping – contrasted starkly with his petty vindictiveness. He mandated that former Chu officials refer to Xiang Yu only by his given name “Ji” (a grave insult in Han etiquette), promoting those who complied while ostracizing those like Zheng Jun who maintained respectful terms like “King Xiang” or “Yu.”

Cultural Legacy: From History to Mythology

The historical record became embellished with legend. While no contemporary sources mention Han Xin’s supposed “Ten-Sided Ambush” strategy, the motif appears in Yuan dynasty storytelling and crystallized in the Ming-era pipa composition “Ambush from Ten Sides.” This musical masterpiece, with movements depicting the entire campaign from mobilization to Xiang Yu’s death, cemented the battle’s dramatic arc in popular imagination.

Later poets offered contrasting interpretations. Du Mu (803-852) criticized Xiang Yu’s suicide as prideful, suggesting Jiangdong’s talent could have supported a comeback. Wang Anshi (1021-1086) countered that war exhaustion made resurgence impossible. Li Qingzhao (1084-1155) immortalized him in verse: “Alive, he was mankind’s hero; dead, he’s the ghosts’ champion. Still we recall Xiang Yu, who refused to cross east of the river.”

Historical Assessment: The Tragic Hegemon

Xiang Yu represents history’s tragic archetype – a brilliant tactician undone by strategic shortcomings and inflexible honor. His military genius (evidenced by victories like the 207 BCE Battle of Julu where he destroyed the Qin main force) coexisted with political naivety. Unlike Liu Bang who rewarded followers generously, Xiang Yu hoarded titles, famously carving seal blanks until their edges wore rather than grant them.

Modern analysis suggests Xiang Yu failed to transition from rebel leader to administrator. His division of the Qin empire into 18 feudal states (including his own Western Chu) reflected nostalgic particularism against the centralizing trend Liu Bang would complete. Yet his personal qualities – courage, loyalty to comrades, and ultimate accountability – have resonated across millennia, making him perhaps history’s most admired loser.

The Wujiang River decision encapsulates this duality. Pragmatists see wasted opportunity; romantics see redemptive integrity. As the farmer’s deception at Yinling shows, Xiang Yu’s tragedy wasn’t just military defeat but the unraveling of the warrior’s covenant – when the very people he claimed to liberate rejected his leadership. In death, he achieved what eluded him in life: eternal remembrance as China’s peerless warrior, flawed but fundamentally noble.