Chapter Fifty-Two: An Unsolvable Mist

“Let’s look,” Fang Mu said, beginning to search the courtyard.

The Iron Calculator took out a copper compass, pacing back and forth in the yard, stopping every few steps to examine the device.

The courtyard was empty and desolate, with a single well in one corner.

The two of them turned the entire place upside down, but found nothing. The well was perfectly ordinary, its water clear and transparent.

Fang Mu shifted his attention to the house beside the courtyard, searching inside. His aim was clear: anything with a hole or an opening deserved careful inspection.

He had obtained a key from Zheng Wen, though its use was still unknown. So Fang Mu focused on anything with a hole—after all, a key should fit a lock.

“No luck,” the Iron Calculator said after searching alongside him, shaking his head.

But when he looked at Fang Mu, he paused in surprise.

Fang Mu had bundled up a cloth package, stuffed full.

“Did he really find so much?” the Iron Calculator wondered.

He had searched as well, even using his own supernatural abilities, yet found nothing. Why did Fang Mu manage to gather so many things?

With a clatter, the contents of the bundle spilled out. The Iron Calculator scratched his head, bewildered by what he saw.

Boxes and chests, all objects with one thing in common: they were locked.

Fang Mu reached into his shirt, and under the cover of his clothes, drew a key from the mysterious space in his mind.

“A key?” The Iron Calculator was utterly dumbfounded, staring in disbelief.

It was the same last time, and again now—Fang Mu’s air of mystery kept growing. In his eyes, Fang Mu seemed shrouded in mist, his true nature impossible to discern.

Suddenly, as if driven by some unexplainable urge, the Iron Calculator had a notion: he wanted to cast a divination about Fang Mu.

The thought, once it appeared, was like a flame fanned by the wind, growing stronger and more reckless, and he could no longer suppress his compulsion.

“Just a little test. I mean no harm,” he reassured himself.

Carefully, he placed his left hand behind his back, drawing unseen symbols in the air.

He was about to use his supernatural skill to divine Fang Mu’s fate.

On the ground, there were too many boxes and chests, while Fang Mu was busy trying the key on each lock.

Suddenly, the Iron Calculator let out a muffled grunt, his face turning pale.

Fang Mu looked up, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

The Iron Calculator waved him off, explaining, “It’s nothing, just a cramp.”

“You’re up to something,” Fang Mu said calmly, setting down the box. “This is a critical moment. If you’re planning any tricks, I suggest you abandon the idea. You know what kind of person I am.”

The Iron Calculator could hold it in no longer. He spat out a mouthful of blood, then exhaled deeply, as if relieved after the act.

Before he could say anything, he suddenly felt a chill all over. He looked up to find Fang Mu smiling at him—but this smile was so cold and sinister that it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Young Mystic,” Fang Mu said, taking out the Ghost Thorn and the Butcher’s Knife, smiling amiably. “Which would you prefer—the thorn or the knife? You have to pick one…”

The Iron Calculator took a step back, waving his hands anxiously. “Let me explain, Brother Copper Demon!”

Fang Mu remained silent, still smiling.

Sweat broke out on the Iron Calculator’s brow. After a moment’s thought, he decided honesty was best.

The man before him was sharp as a blade—better to confess than to risk deception.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, the Iron Calculator said, “To tell the truth, I just cast a divination on your fate, Brother Copper Demon.”

Fang Mu frowned. “And what did you see?”

The Iron Calculator gave a bitter smile. “Nothing. The result was emptiness—and I suffered backlash from my own power. Luckily I withdrew in time, so it was only a minor injury.”

But there was something he didn’t say: he had glimpsed a layer of mist, and within it, some unspeakable horror seemed to gaze back at him.

He felt utterly foolish for casting a divination out of idle curiosity. If he hadn’t reacted quickly and pulled back, he might not have survived the ordeal.

Fang Mu pondered for a moment, but did not pursue the matter further. This was not the time for such things; the task at hand was more important.

“I hope there won’t be a next time,” Fang Mu said, eyes narrowing.

The Iron Calculator nodded repeatedly. He knew he was in the wrong and made no attempt to argue.

After all, divining another’s fate without consent was deeply disrespectful. The fact that Fang Mu hadn’t sliced him open as he had Zheng Wen was already a mercy.

Fang Mu put away the knife and the Ghost Thorn, then continued trying the key on the remaining boxes.

One after another, small boxes, then large ones, and finally the big chest—but not a single lock opened.

The Iron Calculator could only wait on the side; with just one key, there was nothing else he could do.

Though he didn’t understand the key’s purpose, Fang Mu’s focus on it made clear its importance. So the Iron Calculator kept silent, not wanting to interrupt.

When Fang Mu finally set down the last chest and put the key away, he drew the butcher’s knife once more.

“What…” the Iron Calculator began, puzzled. “Brother Copper Demon, what are you doing?”

“Let’s break them open and see,” Fang Mu replied, his face expressionless as he brought the blade down.

Box after box and chest after chest were smashed to pieces, but apart from a few mundane items, nothing unusual turned up.

“Are there any more?” Fang Mu asked, putting away his knife.

The Iron Calculator shook his head. “No, that’s all the items with locks.”

Fang Mu stroked his chin, deep in thought. How odd—could it be the key isn’t meant to be used here? But it was found on Zheng Wen—could it possibly be for someplace else?

“Somewhere else… somewhere else…” Fang Mu clenched his right fist and lightly struck his left palm as realization dawned. “Of course, it could be used elsewhere!”

The Iron Calculator was startled. “What do you mean, somewhere else?”

Fang Mu glanced around at the surrounding buildings. “A household doesn’t just consist of these rooms—there can be things we can’t see.”

“Things we can’t see?”

“Exactly. Think about it—what are the things we can’t see?”

“Things we can’t see… a cellar?”

“That’s right.”

Fang Mu nodded and began searching the yard again.

They had searched everything above ground—now it was time to look below.

Yet after searching, they found nothing. There was no cellar anywhere in the courtyard.

“What’s going on…” Fang Mu’s gaze swept back and forth, finally settling on a corner—the well in the yard.

They had checked it before, and apart from water, it contained nothing. But if they were talking about what lay beneath the ground, surely the well counted as underground…