In the third year of Jian'an, as the noose was about to drop over Baimen Tower in Xiapi, modern psychological manipulator Shi Wei awoke in Lü Bu’s body. Faced with a world whose logic had gone awry, he smiled like a hunter.
“Grand Tutor Dong, what you call tyranny is just a dopamine imbalance.”
“Cao Mengde, your paranoia fits the diagnostic criteria for paranoid personality disorder perfectly.”
“Zhuge Kongming, your method of using the Seven-Star Lamp to prolong your life... looks a lot like modern subconscious anchoring.”
When psychology’s overwhelming advantage descended upon the chaotic Three Kingdoms:
· Dong Zhuo burned himself alive in a frenzy, repeatedly reciting A Clinical Analysis of Stockholm Syndrome before he died.
· Cao Cao’s million-strong army developed dissociative identity disorder en masse at Guandu.
· The men of Jiangdong listened to Zhou Yu’s zither and defected in perfect unison, like a flock of hypnotized pigeons.
But when he tried to perform cognitive surgery on the white-robed scholar farming in his thatched cottage, a slight lift of the feather fan sent the stars of the entire Three Kingdoms shifting out of place...
“So I’m not the only one who transmigrated?” Lü Bu stroked his Fangtian Halberd and chuckled. “But I came with the entire 21st century’s library of psychology.”
This is a story in which implanted thoughts replace bloody campaigns. As modern psychology’s fangs pierce the throat of ancient political schemes, the entire age becomes a petri dish in a laboratory.
