Mythical Qin: I, Gao Yao, will never be a eunuch!

Chapter 1039 claims to be cooperation, but in reality it's exploitation!

Looking at Xiang Yu's shocked expression, he said, word by word, "Remember, the Qiang people are our tools for revenge, and can be sacrificed as cannon fodder when necessary! Compared to the survival of our Chu army and the great cause of revenge, which is more important, their lives or deaths?"

Xiang Yu fell completely silent. Looking at Yi Xiaochuan, who had become so unfamiliar, so cold and resolute, a chill ran through him. Yet, he had to admit that this was the most realistic and prudent course of action, the one that best protected the interests of the Chu army. The survival rules of chaotic times were so naked and cruel.

Yi Xiaochuan patted Xiang Yu on the shoulder, his tone softening slightly, yet still carrying an undeniable resolve: "Therefore, we must also be prepared. You lead 30,000 Chu troops, adopting a posture of active preparation for war, but when you actually launch an attack, you must be cautious and act according to the situation at the front. If the Qiang people are unstoppable and Gao Yao is indeed dead, then we will launch a full-scale attack and divide the spoils of victory. If the Qiang people are caught in a fierce battle, or even encounter an ambush, and Gao Yao is likely to appear and command... then we should immediately halt our advance, or even... seize the opportunity to retreat, preserve our strength, and devise another strategy."

"As for the promise to the Qiang people..." Yi Xiaochuan sneered, "That's on the premise of a win-win situation. If they themselves are useless, unable to take Xianyang, or even suffer heavy losses, then the so-called division will naturally be meaningless. In chaotic times, strength is the only guarantee to fulfill promises."

Xiang Yu remained silent for a long time. He gazed at the desolate sky outside the tent, his heart filled with immense conflict. On one hand, he felt uneasy about Yi Xiaochuan's treacherous scheme, which contradicted his principles of heroism; on the other hand, harsh reality forced him to accept this ruthless way of survival. The flames of revenge, and the responsibility of preserving the last embers of Chu, ultimately overwhelmed his inner struggle.

He nodded heavily, his voice hoarse: "Then... I'll do as you say."

For Xiang Yu, the pride of the Xiang clan stemmed from his bloodline and was etched into his very bones. As a descendant of the Xiang clan of Chu, the powerful and invincible Hegemon of Western Chu, how could he have imagined that one day he would have to rely on the Qiang people, who were regarded as "barbarians beyond the reach of civilization" by the Central Plains?

Cooperating with foreign tribes to carve up the ancestral lands of China? This very thought was like a poisonous thorn, repeatedly pricking his proud heart. Whenever he recalled the scene of Yi Xiaochuan and the Qiang chieftain Ehe Shaoge swearing a blood oath, a strong sense of humiliation almost suffocated him. This was by no means the hegemony he had imagined, much less the glory he had promised to the people of Jiangdong.

However, reality was a cold shackle, binding him tightly and leaving him no room to breathe. Yi Xiaochuan's calm, almost cruel analysis kept echoing in his mind: "Xiang Yu, we have no choice... Either put down your pointless pride, use their strength against them, and fight for a sliver of hope; or cling to your pride and, along with these last 30,000 Chu soldiers, quietly rot and perish here!"

He closed his eyes in anguish. Yes, he had no choice. He still seemed to control the three prefectures, but that was merely a hollow outline on the map. Years of war, especially the disastrous defeat in the surprise attack on Xianyang, had long since drained these three prefectures of their vitality. As far as the eye could see, the fields were barren and the villages desolate.

The men who could still be seen were either thin, pale, and emaciated children who could barely hold a weapon, or elderly men with graying temples, hunched backs, and needing a cane to walk. The real able-bodied men had long since turned into the piles of white bones around Gaixia, or were scattered in the nameless wilderness.

That all-out surprise attack not only failed to breach the gates of Xianyang, but also utterly shattered the last vestiges of the Chu army's morale and fighting spirit. Although the soldiers still obeyed his orders, the fervor of their previous desperate struggle was gone from their eyes; only numb exhaustion and deep-seated fear remained. Like a pack of wounded wolves, they licked their wounds, filled with uncertainty about the unknown future.

Conversely, regarding his mortal enemy Gao Yao… Xiang Yu's fist clenched suddenly, his nails digging deeply into his palm. According to scouts, although Xianyang had also suffered damage, its foundation remained intact. Gao Yao controlled the vast Guanzhong Plain and the fertile land of Sichuan, possessing a large population and abundant resources. If he so desired, he could even resort to any means necessary, forcibly conscripting soldiers; raising an army of 500,000 men within three months was entirely possible!

Five hundred thousand! This number was like a mountain, pressing down on Xiang Yu, making it hard for him to breathe. Even if he sold everything he owned and plundered the three commanderies, how many soldiers could he possibly recruit? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? And they would inevitably be the old, weak, and disabled—no different from sending them to their deaths.

What exhausted him even more was the increasingly sharp internal conflict. The sweet potatoes and potatoes brought by Yi Xiaochuan initially did alleviate the military's food crisis, and even gave the people the illusion that they had found a way to survive. But in the long run, the negative consequences became apparent. These two crops were high-yielding, but they were unsuitable as a staple food in the long term.

The lack of other grains and vegetables led to widespread malnutrition across the three prefectures. The people were pale and sickly, with many suffering from bloating, diarrhea, and night blindness. Disease also began to spread among the weak. The hardship of survival transformed into direct resentment towards the Chu regime.

"It's all because King Xiang insisted on planting these damned things!"

"The soldiers can't beat them, yet they make us suffer like this!"

"When will this ever end? We might as well just let the Southern Army invade!"

Such complaints reached Xiang Yu's ears through various channels. He knew that popular uprisings were like sparks on a dry grassland; they only needed a tiny trigger to ignite a prairie fire that would completely engulf him and his last foothold. He possessed the strength to uproot mountains, yet he could not make the land instantly grow rice and wheat, nor could he immediately heal the sick people, much less quell the ever-rising public resentment.

It was against this backdrop of internal and external difficulties and near-desperation that Yi Xiaochuan's strategy of using the Qiang soldiers as a spear and acting according to the situation, despite being full of treachery and immoral, became the only visible, distorted path in the darkness.

Xiang Yu was torn with inner turmoil. He despised such tactics, but he knew all too well that if he gave up even this last chance, he would only be left to await his death. His pride was forced to bow time and time again in the face of the harsh reality of survival. This forced compromise was more painful and humiliating than any battlefield wounds.

Meanwhile, the palaces of Xianyang were as deep as the sea.

Compared to Xiang Yu's struggles amidst the winds and sands of the north and his predicament, the power struggle within Xianyang unfolded in a silent undercurrent, far more treacherous. Gao Yao sat upright in a secret chamber, his fingertips lightly tapping on the mountain of secret reports piled before him, the candlelight illuminating his increasingly profound and unfathomable face.