Cold... pierces the bone.
Suddenly awakening, Su Changxing exhaled a breath of warm air, looking around to find a white world unfolding before him.
"Is this snow?"
He examined the white substance covering his hand, which started flowing under the warmth of his skin.
His hands and feet were so frozen they almost lost sensation, but he could still barely move.
"Is this the abyss?"
He looked around cautiously, somewhat unable to believe this was the legendary abyss where even Divine Spirits could fall.
Very ordinary, as ordinary as can be...
The road, long since dilapidated, showed exposed patches of yellow paint for the most part, the ground sunken and cracked, filled with white snow.
He stood up shakily from the ground, feeling his body heavy, only wearing a T-shirt and a thin jacket, the cold nearly numbing his consciousness.
He must leave here and find a warm spot.
This is an ordinary world, and he seemingly is also an exceptionally ordinary mortal now, unable to sense any extraordinary energy, with his physical functions quite weak.
Other issues can wait, the immediate pressing concern is he’s about to freeze to death.
Grabbing his shoulders with his arms folded, he staggered along the road, aimlessly, just wanting to find a place to shield himself from the wind and snow.
After not walking too far, Su Changxing felt his stamina lagging, his throat dry like it was smoking, gasping for air.
He grabbed a handful of snow from a relatively clean spot on the ground, stuffed it in his mouth, chewing constantly, the icy water dampening his throat somewhat.
Even if strength was lacking, he still walked forward step by step, though with a mortal body, his will differed from that of ordinary people.
Faced with this situation, he had no other choice but to hope for a place up ahead where he could rest, to let this frail body recuperate, nearing its limit.
Such a limit truly signifies a physical one; once crossed, what awaits him is likely death.
He’s unclear of his current status; if he dies here, what happens?
Is this truly the abyss?
He doubted the question, perceiving no anomaly in this world, seemingly a most ordinary, normal world.
Yet such normalcy seems abnormal, as nearly all worlds contain extraordinary energy, while here, such energy is in a vacuum, not perceivable at all.
Lost in thought, his mind grew cluttered, a misstep caused him to fall in the snow, his foot hitting stones, creating a wound, bringing a burning pain.
The pain continuously stimulated his nerves, exceedingly real, as if he were a fragile mortal.
Once more shakily getting up, Su Changxing ignored the foot injury, for the cold pain gradually weakened.
As he walked, the road disappeared, unclear where it vanished, covered by wind and snow, he couldn’t see, just feeling the surrounding mountains and forests grow dense.
As time passed, his bodily functions declined to a peak, his vision blurred, movements slower than before, even spotting some unreal hallucinations.
Yet he still wouldn’t stop, continuing to walk forward one step at a time, leaving behind a row of clear footprints, gradually blurred amidst the wind and snow.
Whoosh~
Whoosh~
The sound of the cold wind filled his head, a white expanse before him.
Falling to the ground once more, Su Changxing waited over ten seconds, then got up again to continue moving forward.
When he thought he was about to die, he saw a small house in the snowstorm, akin to the joy of seeing a street lamp in the dark night.
He slightly quickened his pace, walking step by step toward it, the windows blurred, frosted, faintly revealing the interior, the door tightly closed but not locked, he placed his hand on it and easily pushed it open.
Bang~
He shut the door heavily, sealing the wind and snow outside, the world suddenly quieted, with dim light filtering in from the window.
The indoor temperature was noticeably much higher than outside, Su Changxing felt a wave of warmth and a strong urge to sleep, accompanied by thirst and hunger.
"This is truly terrible."
He murmured softly, sitting against the wall and removing his snow-covered outerwear, closing his eyes to rest.
At this moment, he actually felt rare tranquility, despite the dire circumstances, it felt like truly living.
Su Changxing didn’t truly fall asleep, in his current state, sleeping could mean not waking up, given the clothes were soaked with snow water, the room temperature not high, risking freezing to death.
Inside the room, the wind could still be heard, albeit much quieter, the windows creaked.
Resting against the wall for over an hour, he felt somewhat better, getting up from the floor, leaving a watermark on the boards.
This was a very small house, with a stove at one side, wood piled in the corner, a few books and a simple wooden chair on a shelf against the wall, nothing else.
Supposedly, this is a temporary rest spot, surely the owner wouldn’t mind someone nearing death taking refuge.
Su Changxing walked to the shelf, inspecting carefully, hoping to find something edible or drinkable, as his body urgently needed food and water, or else it would still be a dead end.
He opened the first drawer below, finding only a pen and a weathered diary, evidently aged.
Then, he opened the second drawer, hoping to find some food inside, but discovered nothing, only half a box of matches and a stack of old newspapers.
Then.
He opened the third drawer, seemingly responding to his wish, finding food—a few snacks, likely left behind by the room’s owner, an oat bar, a pack of chips, and a can of orange-flavored drink "Soda."
"Such good luck," Su Changxing couldn’t help but exclaim, grabbing them immediately, beyond parched, his throat almost smoking, voice hoarse.
Crack~
He opened the drink, taking a large gulp, feeling a wave of comfort throughout, swearing it was the best-tasting orange drink he ever had.
After drinking a gulp, he paused; the water was too cold, drinking too much at once could irritate the stomach, his body couldn’t withstand more accidents now, very fragile, maybe inadvertently dying in this dark cabin.
Next, he opened the oat bar, chewing half in his mouth, then opened the second drawer to take out matches and newspapers, walking toward the stove.
Apparently, the stove was used not long ago, with remaining charcoal inside.
Su Changxing tried lighting a match, failing due to frozen fingers, dropped it on the ground, picked it up to try again, finally lighting it.
Yellow flames glowed in the dim room, he felt warmth, though only a little.
Since the matches didn’t get damp, lighting was achievable, which was great news as finding other ways to light a fire was unlikely.
Su Changxing tore the newspaper into thin strips to use as tinder, stacked small pieces of firewood from the stove next to it, then scattered the strips of newspaper on top.
Lighting a match, he ignited the newspaper, fanned a little with a folded paper, the flames spread from the newspaper to the wood... then extinguished.
Su Changxing paused, inspecting the cause, discovering some firewood was damp.
He had to go to the corner, squatting and carefully choosing relatively dry bits of firewood, the cold causing his hands to stiffen completely, movement slow and clumsy.
After fiddling for over ten minutes, he tried lighting the stove again, repeating the process of tearing newspaper strips, scattering them on the stacked wood, lighting the newspaper with a match, and the flames rose instantly.
This time, success at last.