100: Chapter 100 The Copper Box

It was indeed very long. After it stretched out, he re-estimated its length; it was definitely at least three meters, perhaps even a bit more. The thickest part was roughly as wide as his wrist. As it swam through the water, its entire body resembled a living whip, every undulation causing the surrounding current to surge slightly.

It circled halfway around the small compartment, turned its head toward the cabin door, and paused at the entrance, seemingly glancing back in his direction.

That glance made him feel vaguely uneasy—not out of fear, but that peculiar discomfort one feels when being sized up by something with a gaze that seems to exceed its species' intelligence.

Then, the Electric Eel poked its head out of the cabin door, its massive body following as it swam out. Its tail brushed past the edge of the doorframe, kicking up a final cloud of fine silt before vanishing into the darkness outside the cabin.

It was gone.

He stood where he was, remaining motionless for nearly ten seconds. Only after confirming the creature hadn't swum back did he slowly relax his shoulders, moving the Water-Repelling Bead from its position pressed against his chest back to a normal grip.

The spherical halo of light retracted, returning to the soft, steady glow of the Water-Repelling Bead itself.

He looked down at his hand; it wasn't shaking, it was very steady, but he knew that was only because he was forcing himself to control it.

In his mind, he silently replayed the entire scene that had just occurred.

He didn't have an exact figure for the electricity the Electric Eel had discharged, but he had studied some related knowledge. An adult Electric Eel in a defensive or attacking state can release a voltage ranging from six or seven hundred volts to over a thousand. For particularly large individuals, the highest recorded voltage reached over eight hundred volts. Although the amperage isn't high, the shock to a human body is enough to cause heart failure.

He was underwater, without insulation or any protection. If not for the Water-Repelling Bead, he wasn't even sure if he could have made it out alive after that shock.

He looked up at the Water-Repelling Bead. The bead lay in his palm, emitting its usual soft light. Its surface was smooth, and its temperature was slightly different from the surrounding water, carrying an indescribable, faint warmth, like a piece of warm jade that had been held in someone's hand for a long time.

He thought to himself that this thing had saved him more than once.

He pulled himself together, raised the Water-Repelling Bead, and scanned the small compartment one last time.

In the corner where the Electric Eel had been coiled, its body had pressed a shallow pit into the silt. Around the pit were several scratches left by its movements, forming a few arcs in the mud, but there was nothing else.

He bent down, reached into the shallow pit, and casually brushed through the silt. He didn't turn up anything—just ordinary mud and sand mixed with a few fragments of broken shells.

He straightened up, looked around once more to confirm nothing else had been missed in the compartment, and then swam toward the cabin door.

As he swam out of the cabin door, he made a point of looking left and right to ensure the Electric Eel wasn't nearby before swimming into the main cabin and continuing upward.

The process of swimming out of the shipwreck was faster than going in. He already had a clear impression of the ship's internal structure—where the low cabin ceilings required him to duck and where collapsed beams needed to be bypassed. He swam smoothly without further delay.

Exiting the shipwreck's hatch, he looked up. Above was a vast expanse of deep blue water. Light from the surface filtered down from far above, thin and even. A thick layer of water lay between him and that depth, like a pane of dusty glass—blurry and distant, but definitely there.

He gripped the Water-Repelling Bead tightly and began swimming upward.

The further up he went, the lighter the water pressure became and the warmer the water grew. The layer of blue became brighter and clearer, eventually turning into a sunlit transparency. His head broke the surface, and he took a deep breath, squinting as he felt the direct heat of the sunlight on his face.

He floated on the surface, taking several deep breaths to completely replace the air in his lungs with fresh air before swimming toward the parked yacht.

He climbed onto the yacht, stuffed the Water-Repelling Bead back into his pocket, and lay flat on the deck, closing his eyes to let the sun warm his body while listening to the sound of the current gently pushing against the boat.

In his mind, he sorted through today's gains.

That Copper Box—he had spent a long time underwater identifying the line of intaglio characters on the bottom using the light of the Water-Repelling Bead. They were in Traditional Chinese with thin strokes, and because the light was insufficient underwater, he could only recognize most of them; a few characters still needed a careful look now that he was up.

But the part he had recognized was already enough to make him feel that this Copper Box was anything but simple.

He opened his eyes, looking at the cloudless blue sky above, wondering what was inside the Copper Box.

The box hadn't been opened; rust had sealed the seams of the lid tightly. He had no tools underwater and didn't want to force it open in that environment. He wanted to wait until he was back in a safe place with tools and light to handle it slowly.

He turned on his side, reached into his consciousness, and found the Copper Box in the System Space. He felt its weight through the space; there was something inside, it wasn't light, and he could feel that the contents weren't a single piece. There was a faint sensation of things bumping against each other, suggesting multiple items.

He withdrew his hand, lay back down, and closed his eyes, letting himself drift on the water to recover his strength.

The overhead sun was very hot, making him feel a bit drowsy. He didn't resist, letting the sleepiness slowly envelop him. The last thought that drifted through his mind was still that backward glance the Electric Eel gave him before swimming out of the cabin.

He rested for an hour or two.

Hu Tian took a bottle of Harbin Beer and a glass from the ship's cabinet and went to the yacht's upper lounge area.

He popped the cap of the Harbin Beer with his thumb, making a crisp sound. Foam surged from the bottle's mouth, and he quickly brought the glass over to catch it. Once the foam settled, he filled the glass.

He set the glass aside, not in a hurry to drink, and took out an item he had brought up from this dive from the System Space, placing it on the wooden floor in front of him.

The Copper Box.

He placed the Copper Box flat on the floor, leaned down, and examined the entire box.

Seeing it in daylight felt completely different from seeing it underwater. Underwater, the light is filtered by the water, distorting colors; everything looks like it has a blue-green filter over it.

Now, in the sunlight, the color of the Copper Box was much clearer. The rust was a deep green from many years, not just sitting on the surface but seemingly seeping into the copper itself. In some places, the rust layer had developed cracked patterns, but the overall shape of the Copper Box was intact, with no obvious deformation or damage.

He flipped the box over, angled it toward the sun, and carefully examined the line of intaglio characters on the bottom.

He had already identified them once underwater, but due to the poor lighting, there were a few characters he couldn't see clearly.

With plenty of light now, he brought the box closer to his eyes and looked through it character by character.

The writing was intaglio, carved shallowly but with clear strokes. They were Traditional Chinese characters, written neatly in a style characteristic of official government-made artifacts.

He read the text from right to left, his lips moving slightly as he whispered the characters he recognized. Then, he pieced the meaning together in his mind and paused for a few seconds.

He set down the Copper Box, picked up his glass, and took a sip, letting the coldness travel down his throat.

He had now clearly identified all sixteen characters on the bottom of the box: 'Made by the Yuehai Governors Office, Autumn of the Seventh Year of Yongzheng Emperor; Storing Important Matters by Imperial Decree, Keep Secret Forever and Do Not Open Lightly.'

He set the glass down and tapped his finger lightly on the floor.

The seventh year of Yongzheng Emperor was 1729, nearly three hundred years ago.

The Yuehai Governors Office was an agency established in Guangdong during the Qing Dynasty, responsible for customs and foreign trade affairs. It held immense power and handled matters involving the Imperial Court's vital interests.

'Storing Important Matters by Imperial Decree' meant that the contents of this box were stored on the Emperor's orders, not a local official's private collection; it was an official archive with a clear provenance.

And 'Keep Secret Forever and Do Not Open Lightly'—these eight characters made him feel that the contents weren't just ordinary correspondence. Something specifically ordered by the Emperor to remain secret forever was either extremely important intelligence, a transaction that couldn't see the light of day, or something involving an event that had concluded at the time but could never be leaked.

He reached out, flipped the Copper Box back over, and placed it flat in front of him, his gaze falling on the seam between the lid and the body.

Rust had sealed the gap tightly. He tried picking at it with his fingernail, but it wouldn't budge.

He stood up and went to the toolbox inside the yacht to find a thin prying tool—the kind of soft spudger used specifically for prying open electronic casings. It was thin and flexible, unlikely to damage the item's surface.

He returned, crouched down, and slowly inserted the prying tool into the seam of the lid. He didn't rush, pushing it in bit by bit while feeling for changes in resistance.

The rust layer was thick, but he was patient.

He spent nearly twenty minutes loosening the gaps all around the box with the prying tool, and only then did he begin to apply pressure along the seam, gently prying upward.

At first, there was no movement, then he heard a very faint, muffled sound like something being torn—the sound of the rust layer snapping at the seam. Then, the lid loosened.

He set down the prying tool, gripped both sides of the lid with his thumbs and index fingers, and slowly lifted it.

The lid left the body of the box with a low scraping sound and was completely removed, which he then set aside.

He looked down into the box.

The contents were wrapped in cloth. The cloth had already rotted into a deep brown color; it might have originally been yellow or red, but it was impossible to tell now.

The fabric was already shredded and would crumble at the slightest touch. He didn't touch it, only peering inside. Through the gaps in the rotted cloth, he could see the contents.

There were several rolls, none of them large, cylindrical in shape, each wrapped separately in cloth and packed tightly together in the box.

He counted them; there were six rolls in total.

Before he could even reach for them, a light suddenly flashed in his mind.

It wasn't a real light, but that familiar sensation, as if something had suddenly snapped its fingers deep within his consciousness.

The System interface expanded in his mind. It wasn't the usual cold white scanning reticle, but a purple one—a deep, rich purple that flowed slowly from the edges of the interface toward the center, as if something ancient had been activated, carrying a sense of weight he couldn't describe.

Purple.

The interface displayed only a few words. There was no detailed description, no data—only those few words floating quietly in the very center of the purple halo.