The box, though rusted, was visibly exquisite. It was a mechanical puzzle box that did not have a lock on the outside, but to open it, one would need to be versed in the art of mechanisms.
Liang Zhichen did not understand the art of mechanisms, but he remembered how the dreamt woman with the surname Yun had opened the box.
Shu Yu sat on a chair, his fingertips pressing against his temples in an indifferent manner. As his elder brother examined the box, he watched his elder brother.
It was not until a good while later that his elder brother suddenly moved.
He picked up the box and fumbled along its bottom. He found a small gear. Then, he turned it left three times, right four, left five, right once. In such a manner, he kept twisting the gear back and forth until, after a dozen or so turns, there was a sudden click.
The lid of the iron box sprang open.
