Chapter Sixty: Before the Prelude

"Is that a mountain?" Qing Ruowu and the Iron Diviner sensed Fang Mu's gaze and followed his line of sight.

"Let's test it," Fang Mu replied simply.

"Test what?"

"Let's leave here first and see what happens."

Fang Mu led the other two away from the street. Once they looked again in the direction of the mountain, Fang Mu's suspicions were confirmed.

The mountain had vanished...

Due to its humble height, once they left the street, the mountain's outline was blocked by the buildings. Fang Mu brought them to several other spots, but only from that particular street could one see the mountain’s silhouette.

The little mountain was not tall to begin with, and the clever arrangement of buildings made it even more elusive. A mountain visible solely from the street—there was clearly a message hidden here.

"Let's go."

This was their only clue; Fang Mu did not intend to let it slip away. After a brief discussion with Qing Ruowu and the Iron Diviner, the three set off toward the mountain.

The journey was uneventful—nothing occurred along the way. By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, daylight had fully broken.

"Let’s search," Fang Mu said.

The mountain was small, and as cultivators, they quickly scouted it and soon found something unusual.

In a clearing atop the mountain stood a single withered tree. The area was spotless, nothing around but a few tufts of grass and that solitary dead tree.

Fang Mu recognized it immediately; it looked exactly like the withered trees from the Fire Phoenix Orchard.

This mountain was not a site for Fire Phoenix fruit trees, yet here stood one—clearly, there was an answer waiting to be uncovered.

Fang Mu stepped forward and circled the tree twice, finding nothing odd above ground, so he turned his attention to the base.

"Dig it up."

With no other leads, perhaps, as in the Fire Phoenix Orchard, something was hidden beneath the tree.

Qing Ruowu gently pried at the roots with her talisman sword. The dead tree came up with ease, revealing something buried below.

Just as he suspected, buried beneath was an ordinary cloth-wrapped bundle.

Dry dirt covered the bundle, but as the tree was lifted, some of the earth crumbled away, exposing a faint blue cloth within.

Fang Mu picked up the bundle, brushed away the rest of the soil, and slowly unwrapped it.

The cloth was tightly bound; inside was a battered wooden box.

The box was unlocked and opened easily, revealing a yellowed letter and a shriveled tree root.

Fang Mu left the root untouched and instead picked up the letter, opening the envelope and unfolding the yellowed paper.

The words leapt from the page—

"My husband... he has gone mad. I don't know where he found an ancient book, but it claims that by following an old method—cultivating trees with human flesh, then eating the bark—one can gain unimaginable powers."

From the very first line, the writer’s identity was clear: the wife of Magistrate Yu.

Fang Mu’s expression did not change as he read on—

"Of late, my husband has become ever more obsessed with the ancient book. He mutters about it even after we have lain together and he drifts into sleep.

I fear the look in his eyes. And lately, I have grown weak and ill, and little Long has also fallen sick.

It’s poison! I saw him put something in our food—my husband did this! I must find a way..."

At this, Fang Mu paused. Poison? A scholar, powerless to tie a chicken, resorting to poison to harm his own family?

"Little Long is dead. My husband claims it was an accident and buried him in the Fire Phoenix Orchard. But I know the truth. My own body is failing, but I refuse to run. I want him to pay with his life.

I looked through the ancient book. It says clearly: the only weakness of this method is that the root grown from the flesh of the first victim—if he is made to eat it—will kill him instantly.

The book also says that if the tree matures, little Long will become a fiendish thing, and neither he nor anyone who ate the bark can touch him. But if someone else kills little Long, my husband will be freed from his bonds.

I know I cannot escape. He has already shown uncanny powers. I must avenge little Long. I will dig him up and plant part of his flesh and blood here.

This should count as the first tree. If... If anyone finds this, I beg you... kill this man who is more terrifying than any ghost!"

The letter ended there. Fang Mu took out the tree root.

No wonder. No wonder the Iron Diviner, after casting his lot, had said coming here was a disastrous omen.

So from beginning to end, Magistrate Yu wanted them to destroy the withered tree. Once it was gone, all restraints upon him would be lifted.

As for Zheng Wen, he was likely just a pawn—to lure Fang Mu into the trap.

Fang Mu suspected Magistrate Yu had long been aware of Zheng Wen’s research and deliberately let Fang Mu see it, giving them an obvious hint that the trees in Meng County were suspicious.

If they pursued it, they would encounter his wife and son, now transformed into fiends, and conveniently remove his shackles.

Thinking back, it all made sense. Zheng Wen’s notes spoke of the bark, but here it was the root—a contradiction. Clearly, the notes were doctored; Magistrate Yu was not foolish enough to expose the secret of the root.

He had not acted sooner, perhaps hoping for a safer plan since the Surveillance Bureau was still present. But now, cornered, he used them to destroy the tree for him.

But what Magistrate Yu could never have expected was that Fang Mu’s corpse-examining skill would uncover the truth.

"Human hearts can be more frightening than the supernatural," the Iron Diviner sighed. "To save himself, he brings slaughter to others. I’ve heard of famine driving people to cannibalism, but this is no less monstrous."

Qing Ruowu, too, let out a sigh. "Our Surveillance Bureau failed in our duty. We never imagined a fiend-cultivator would become a county magistrate."

"This isn’t the time to assign blame," Fang Mu shook his head. "What matters is, where is Magistrate Yu now?"

They had lost all leads, but his weakness was clear. The only question was the magistrate’s whereabouts.

Jinglong County? Meng County? Somewhere else? Nothing was certain.

To search blindly would be like looking for a needle in the sea—and a waste of time.

Fang Mu considered and said, "Finding one man in a sea of people is truly difficult. But perhaps you have a way."

This "you" was, of course, the Iron Diviner.

The Iron Diviner, who had been listless as a salted fish, blinked at Fang Mu’s words, then swept his sleeve with a flourish. "Brother Fang, if there’s anything you need of me, just say it. Don’t stand on ceremony."

At last—my time to shine as the indispensable tool has come!