Chapter 5: Climbing the Tower in a Single Leap, Soul Leaving the Body, Day Like Hell, Night Like an Ice River

Yellow Grade, D-Rank?

Pagoda Meditation Method? Song Cheng's heart blossomed with joy, yet he was simultaneously filled with doubt.

Is this world truly the world of "Infinite Hell"?

If it were, why had he never heard of this skill, "Pagoda Meditation Method"? Moreover, in the world of "Infinite Hell," players progressed according to levels, capped at 60, yet now a "Yellow Grade, D-Rank" had appeared.

After a few thoughts flickered by, he shook his head, stopped overthinking, and instead quickly added the "1" spare point to the "Pagoda Meditation Method."

A sensation of having meditated for a long time surged forth; a faint sense of peace arose in his heart, yet there was no qualitative change.

"I can only wait for nightfall.

I'll have to trouble the mistress again."

Song Cheng stood up, grabbing his hardwood stick to tap and probe his surroundings.

With every tap, pale ripples would spread through his ink-wash-like pitch-black world; that was the diffusion of sound.

New white sketches would replace the original impressions, just like constantly clicking "refresh" on a "computer screen" named space.

After tapping a few times, Song Cheng sat under the eaves and took up an axe to start chopping wood.

An incense stick's time later, he finished chopping six logs, feeling a bit breathless; after a short rest, he went to wash clothes.

The snow had been melting these past few days, saving him the trouble of going out to fetch or buy water.

He took the honey locust pods collected in the autumn and began scrubbing the few pieces of clothing.

Everything in the basin had been placed there by Tong Jia. If it were something to be washed at the river outside, she would go herself; leaving them in the room meant they were for Song Cheng to wash.

As he washed, Song Cheng suddenly touched a piece of slippery silk fabric.

His heart gave an inexplicable jolt.

This was the mistress's silk bodice. In the past, he had never been able to wash this, but now the mistress clearly no longer avoided suspicion with him.

Then again, they had done everything, and the mistress had even given her first time to him; what was there left to avoid?

Night fell.

The newly sun-dried bedding still carried the scent of frost and snow, yet within the tightly wrapped bundle, two close bodies were moving in sync.

In the pitch-black world, the plain-white figure was indeed pale.

But the soft hums of nasal sounds and the warmth of their bodies pressed together made the pale world colorful.

After a long while, the mistress, who was usually quite the "tough broad," lay soft in the blind youth's arms, raised a finger to tap his forehead, and laughed wearily: "Good man, you really know how to cherish your wife."

Song Cheng was also gasping for breath; this body's constitution was too poor.

The mistress seemed to sense his condition, hugging him gently as she said: "Be faster next time."

Song Cheng said: "I won't be tired to death."

The mistress laughed with a "ge-ge" sound: "Stubborn mouth."

Song Cheng refused to accept that.

After a long while, Song Cheng was panting heavily; he was exhausted.

"Has anything happened in the village these past few days?"

"Nothing in the village, but there is a little something outside the village."

"What is it?"

"The snow has started to melt, hasn't it? The road from the village to the county town is barely passable now.

By rights, the rice sellers from the county town should have come, but they haven't.

This evening, I went for a walk outside and heard people say that the rice sellers seem to have encountered bandits."

"Bandits?"

Song Cheng suddenly felt a chill.

Not to mention anything else, if bandits entered the village and killed their way to Huichun Hall, he and Tong Jia would absolutely be unable to stop them.

Even with weapons, his strength was only 1, and Tong Jia's was only 2.

When that time came, he would be dead for sure, and Tong Jia would likely be dragged into their stronghold; the outcome... one could imagine.

Tong Jia felt his body tense up and said: "Don't worry. There are still some young men in the village; if they grab sickles and rakes, the bandits won't dare enter the village easily.

Besides, the village chief is alert, and they've already started organizing people to keep watch tonight. Every household in the village is providing food for the night watchmen, so there are quite a few people scrambling to take the shifts."

As she spoke, she added: "Even if they really do enter the village, this old lady will grab a sickle to protect you."

Song Cheng said speechlessly: "Old lady mistress, when did you..."

After saying this, he felt the cheek resting on his shoulder grow a bit hot.

Immediately, Tong Jia playfully hit him like she was acting spoiled, and said righteously: "A woman who can take care of you is better than a woman who needs you to take care of her, right?"

The next day, at dawn, a line of information flashed out.

【You spent a happy night with Tong Jia, gaining 6 spare points】.

A happy night? Song Cheng thought about it; last night was indeed different from before.

Without hesitation, he added the 6 points directly to the "Pagoda Meditation Method."

The progress of the "Pagoda Meditation Method" jumped rapidly from "Not Yet Initiated (1/2)" past the entry level, rising to "Minor Achievement (1/8)."

A mysterious feeling surged into his heart.

Extra experiences flashed through his mind, reshaping every inch of his body.

That day, his distraction while exhausted had unintentionally turned into meditation.

Calming his spirit and focusing, he cast aside all distracting thoughts, as if sitting quietly in a void empty of all things.

In the void, a pagoda slowly rose.

The tower was nine stories high, just like the tall tower that stood between the green mountains and white waters before he transmigrated.

He followed the tower upward, climbing the stairs step by step; worldly affairs gradually drifted away, and his mood became increasingly relaxed.

As he stepped onto the first stair, the Pagoda Meditation Method reached the entry level.

He climbed the stairs, walked to the top of the Tower, and felt his entire body in an extremely strange state, as if his body had vanished and he was left only as that cluster of thoughts at the top of the Tower.

He poked his head out from the Nine-Layered High Tower and looked outward; everything outside was blurry.

During the day, he saw only a vast ocean of light and flame, like a hellish furnace with churning magma and surging tides like mercury; he knew that if he jumped out of the Tower, he would surely die.

After night fell, the light and flame vanished, and the blurry scene became clear; for the first time, color appeared in his ink-wash world.

The tiles were black and the walls were white, but they were not the pure black and pale white of a blind person's world, but rather colors with more texture.

The soil was yellow, the evergreen trees were green, and the moonlight illuminated the mountains and waters; everything had color.

He saw those colors clearly and felt the peace outside, his heart filled with joy.

On a breezy and beautiful night, he leaped from the top of the Tower, and a feeling of liberation and ascension arose; he looked down and saw his own body sitting cross-legged where it had been.

It was a delicate and handsome shell, and that shell seemed to have lost its support of strength; the head nodded, the hands went limp, and the body tilted to one side, as if it had suddenly died.

At the same time, a sharp, icy coldness struck him.

He instinctively dived back into his body, and only then did it feel like returning from a "glacial river" to a "warm bed."

But this "warm bed" was not warm enough; he was still very cold.

Cold from the inside out.

Clearly, the "warmth" his body could provide was too little.

Therefore, it took him a long while to recover his senses.

And when he jumped out of the Nine-Layered Tower, the Pagoda Meditation Method reached minor completion.

Song Cheng opened his eyes.

He understood why the process was like this.

The Pagoda Meditation Method was a Yellow Grade, low-tier technique, but he was just an ordinary person who had never practiced any cultivation techniques.

To put it simply, this was "not having reached that realm, yet trying to perform the techniques of that realm."

"Cultivation technique."

Song Cheng clenched his fists.

He needed a cultivation technique.

(End of this chapter)