History says Dong Zhuo dies in 192.

Lü Bu kills him. Then the Dong clan gets exterminated.

I knew all of this.

Which would have been much more useful if I had not opened my eyes as Dong Zhuo’s nineteen-year-old son.

Fortunately, everyone already thinks I’m useless: lazy, cowardly, drunk whenever possible, and far more interested in beautiful women than military affairs.

Perfect.

All I need to do is keep that reputation, get Mother somewhere safe, gather money and food, and avoid every famous bastard I remember from the Three Kingdoms.

Instead, everything I do makes things worse.

I ask for an estate in the west. They think I predicted rebellion.

I count grain and carts because I plan to run away. They think I’m preparing for war.

Now Li Ru is suspicious, Father wants my advice, and Lü Bu is watching me.

I am trying very hard not to become important.

Everyone else seems determined to promote me into treason.