That Dropped Chinese Novel’s Useless Me Says No to the System

Lian scanned the terrain, then murmured, "Don't leave yet. Retreat into the woods and observe."

We immediately scattered into the nearby underbrush, each finding a spot to take cover.

Backed against the mountain and bordering the cliff, with the wind howling and the leaves rustling, the place was perfect for concealment.

No sooner had we hidden ourselves than Hua Xiang frowned and muttered, "Strange."

I was just about to chime in with, "Exactly, that old man's eyesight must be terrible," when Hua Xiang beat me to it.

"We took a detour so far out of the way. Given the lay of the land, the Eighth Prince and his men shouldn't have ended up on this path."

I blinked. "Right, right, exactly my point! I mean, why are they on the same path as us? They couldn't be tracking us, could they?"

Hua lightly waved his folding fan, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. "If the Eighth Prince wanted to track us, he wouldn't abandon the chase halfway and suddenly detour to a halt."

Lian, however, kept his eyes fixed on the nameless courtyard, his brow furrowing slightly. "No, they aren't following us. More likely, they are following this courtyard."

"You mean..." I whispered, barely squeezing the words out, "there's something special in this courtyard?"

"Or someone special," Lian said.

I let out a sharp hiss and huddled closer to the ground.

Hua Xiang continued his analysis. "The path we took to detour was a makeshift game trail with no human tracks. No normal traveler would have stumbled upon it by chance."

Hua tapped the handle of his fan. "Which means... they came here on purpose."

"But who in these mountains has that kind of capability?" I couldn't help but ask.

This time, Mu Cangli finally looked up and said flatly, "If markers were laid out in advance, tracking someone through these mountains isn't difficult."

I stared at him. "What markers?"

"Twigs snapped but left hanging, slightly deeper footprints in the soft soil, or even deliberately placed pebbles," Mu Cangli explained. "To someone familiar with the wilderness, tracking a group is child's play."

Hua Xiang's eyes flickered, his mind clearly connecting the dots. "Are you saying... someone is deliberately leading the Eighth Prince's men down our path? Specifically to get them to this courtyard?"

Mu Cangli didn't answer, his expression calm and unreadable.

Instead, it was Lian who added, "If this was indeed arranged... we might have already been filtered out."

I gasped. "Fil... filtered out? How?"

Lian glanced at me, his voice as soft as a breeze brushing through grass. "The host doesn't want to see us. They only want to see the Eighth Prince."

I fell silent, a sudden chill running down my spine.

When Old Liu turned us away but let them in... perhaps it wasn't a matter of attitude. Perhaps the master of the courtyard simply didn't want us, but had been waiting for them all along. The more I thought about it, the more tangled and mysterious it became.

"What do we do now?" Hua asked quietly.

Lian didn't answer immediately. He gazed toward the depths of the courtyard. The wooden gate was shut tight, sealing off any sign of life. Although the morning light touched the eaves, it failed to illuminate a single inch of the courtyard's secrets.

After a long pause, Lian spoke. "We wait. Let's see how quickly the Eighth Prince's men come out."

I pulled my head down. "And if they come out quickly?"

"It means they ran into trouble the moment they entered," Hua Xiang said flatly.

"And... if they don't come out at all?"

"Then it means the trouble is even bigger," Mu Cangli chimed in.

I had no words. A perfectly simple sentence, yet it made my stomach drop.

And so we held our breath, staying absolutely still in the brush as we watched the nameless courtyard. The wind rustled the grass out front, casting sparse shadows of bamboo across the veranda.

Fifteen minutes had passed since the Eighth Prince's men went inside. Yet, not a sound emerged.

The longer I watched, the more uneasy I became. My palms grew sweaty as I gripped my hilt—not that I actually had a sword, but to blend in with the atmosphere, I half-clenched my fist, gripping an imaginary hilt.

In the midst of our tense silence...

Deep within the courtyard, there came a very faint, yet incredibly sharp metallic ting. It sounded like something had suddenly dropped.

All of our hearts skipped a beat simultaneously.

Another moment passed.

Since the Eighth Prince's retinue had entered, there had been absolutely no sound other than that single metallic clink. The mountain forest was unnaturally quiet.

Growing impatient, I swallowed hard and hissed, "...Do you think the Eighth Prince... is already a goner?"

The words had barely left my mouth when Hua gently fluttered his fan. "Judging by his physiognomy, he doesn't look like a man destined to kick the bucket today."

"As if your fortune-telling is ever a hundred percent accurate!" I snapped.

"Well, it isn't," Hua replied lazily. "But today... I feel he'll survive."

What do you mean, "feel"?! Be a little more specific, will you!

I was about to press further when Mu Cangli suddenly murmured, "...We can't wait any longer. I'm going in." His voice was soft, yet carried a cold, sharp edge. It was obvious that whatever was happening inside concerned him far more than the rest of us.

Lian immediately reached out to stop him. "Wait."

Mu Cangli raised an eyebrow, growing impatient. "If we wait any longer, I fear—"

Lian cut him off, keeping his gaze fixed on the little donkey outside the courtyard gate. "No need to rush," he said meaningfully.

I followed his gaze. The donkey was casually munching on grass, looking utterly oblivious to the fact that its master had just stepped into the Chamber of Death.

I stared blankly. "Why are you looking at the donkey?"

Before Lian could reply, I added, "I thought the Eighth Prince cherished his mountain steed, but they all went inside and just left it out here."

"Perhaps the donkey can be of use," Lian finally spoke.

I was taken aback. "You suspect... the donkey?"

"Not suspect," Lian said flatly. "But we can use it to test the waters."

My eyes widened. "Test the waters? Test what? Is there some donkey-eating monster in there?"

Hua Xiang pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's called a diversion. Throwing a stone to ask the way. Do you understand?"

"...I understand, but I still think you're all just picking a fight with a donkey."

Hua, however, caught Lian's drift instantly, especially when Lian followed up with: "Hua, go set that donkey loose."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You really are picking on the donkey! Isn't that a bit much?!"

Lian sighed, looking utterly defeated by having a teammate like me. "No one is picking on the donkey."

"Only you," Hua Xiang added.

Well, that was uncalled for.

Before I could protest further, Hua snapped his fan shut and slid forward through the grass, moving as silently as a cat stalking a mouse.

The donkey was still munching away. With a swift slide, Hua reached its side. The beast didn't even react, continuing to chew contentedly. It seemed the Eighth Prince's steed was just as dim-witted as its master.

Flicking open his fan to reveal the sharp, hidden blades along its ribs, Hua sliced the hemp rope tying the donkey in a single, fluid motion. With his other hand, he slipped a tiny projectile from his sleeve, raised his palm, and—smack!—swatted the donkey's rump.

The donkey froze, its eyes bulging. It let out a bizarre, braying shriek that sounded half-screamed, half-crowed, kicked its hooves wildly, and bolted.

With a quick flash of movement, Hua slipped back to our side, patted his fan, and winked at me.

A sudden realization struck me.

I lowered my voice and said with utmost gravity, "I get it, I get it—while the Eighth Prince is inside, we secretly steal his donkey! That forces him to walk, jarring his legs and leaving him wheezing until he collapses from exhaustion in the middle of nowhere! A brilliant, diabolical scheme..."

Before I could finish, the clearing fell so dead silent you could hear the wind brushing against the tips of the grass.

Hua's fan snapped shut with a sharp clack. He turned to look at me slowly, his gaze identical to one you'd give a pig that had just tumbled out of a tree.

Hua Xiang's brow twitched. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

Lian let out a soft sigh, as if deeply concerned for my future.

Mu Cangli patted my shoulder with a look of profound grief. "Brother... you just mistook a tactical probe for donkey-stealing."

Me: "...?"

Everyone looked at me with tender pity, as if silently lighting three sticks of incense for my departed soul.