You are a sick old man
"Damn," he swore. He had forgotten who he was messing with. Just when he was about to curse this god to the high heavens the darkness lifted. He found himself in a large, luxurious military tent. In front of him was a grand mahogany table with maps unfurled and scattered across its surface. To his left was a shiny gold armour hanging neatly on a stand, accompanied by a sheathed sword. Red and yellow lanterns cast a warm glow, illuminating the tent.
Xiang Yu hadn't yet figured out where he was or what he was supposed to do. He picked up an unsealed letter on the table and began to read it. It was from a princess of an enemy state, requesting an alliance through marriage between the two states. She spoke of her love for the enemy country's crown prince and her desire to marry him to bring peace between their nations.