The Ruthless Warlord of the Three Kingdoms: Cao Cao’s Trusted Son-in-Law
My name is Chen Cong, though later many would come to call me Chen the Invincible. Because I couldn't hold my liquor, I ended up transported to the waning years of the Han Dynasty. I had no status, no connections, no mysterious system to guide me, not a single coin to my name—and to make matters worse, I couldn't read a word of the ancient scripts, making me no different from an illiterate bumpkin. But what I did have was courage—boundless, reckless courage! Heaven may have denied me the usual cheat codes granted to other travelers, but instead, it blessed me with a body of unmatched strength, bordering on the supernatural, and a beautiful fiancée to boot. Oh, and by the way—her father is none other than Cao Cao.
The Ruthless Warlord of the Three Kingdoms: Cao Cao’s Trusted Son-in-Law
Solemn Statement: This book does not have only one female protagonist.
“Ow! My head hurts...”
Chen Cong rolled over, groping in vain for his blanket, and opened his eyes in a daze.
Blink. Blink again. Harder this time.
Sunlight streamed through an old wooden window. By the doorway, firewood was stacked in neat piles. Five huge rice jars stood in a row, and along the eastern wall were more than a hundred cabbages. In the corner, a heap of winnowing baskets, brooms, and brushes lay scattered.
“Where am I?”
Chen Cong massaged his throbbing temples, searching his memory...
Yesterday, after drinking heavily at his graduation party...
And then... nothing. A total blackout.
Kidnapping?
He was a poor student who had just graduated—no reason for that.
A prank?
Unlikely. At six foot two and a solid one hundred seventy pounds, who would bother hauling a drunken giant like him for a joke?
Maybe he wandered into a rural guesthouse after too much to drink?
No, that didn’t make sense either—the city outskirts were thirty or forty kilometers away, impossible to reach on foot.
Creak!
As Chen Cong pondered his fate, the woodshed door opened and a girl carrying a wooden basin entered.
She looked about fourteen or fifteen, with delicate features and a fine brocade skirt. Seeing Chen Cong awake, her face lit up with delight.
“You’re awake. Come eat.”
Only after she set the wooden basin on the floor did Chen Cong see it was filled to the brim with thin porridge.
Noticing
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