Becoming a god starts with one certificate becoming eternal.

The night was as dark as a damp, cold cloth, shrouding the silent alleys of Tianyuan City.

The mud wall was crooked, and the wooden beams were blackened.

When Ye Xiao emerged from the shadows, pieces of plaster fell at his feet, crumbling like calluses.

His face was so thin and sharply defined, as if it had been carved out by the cold wind; his hands were cracked and covered with fine scabs, and his knuckles were rough and calloused from the wear and tear of life.

The tattered firewood on his back made his shoulder bones ache, but he didn't shake it. He had picked it up from the workers' shed; if he shook it, it would fall apart, and the family would be one less person to cook firewood.

A sharp sound suddenly came from around the corner—the sound of a stick striking bone.

When Ye Xiao looked up, he saw a child, thin as a stick, being whipped and thrown into the black muddy water. Half of his face hit a stone, splitting open with a thin, bloody gash. Before the blood could flow, it was forced into a dark red mark by the cold air.

The child didn't even dare to cry, using both hands and feet to scoop up the scattered coins. His knuckles were frozen purple, and he couldn't hold on to them; the coins kept rolling away.

He was so anxious that he pressed himself to the ground and tried to bite the copper coin with his teeth.

Finally, he carefully spat it back into his palm.

The thugs of the Green Owl Gang, brandishing sticks, said coldly:

"If another one falls, the penalty doubles. If that's not enough, have your mother put her fingerprint on it. Remember, this is the consequence of being late; even if you make up the difference, you'll still be beaten."

The stick landed on the child's back again, feeling like it was hitting wet flesh.

One stick.

Another blow.

The child's body jerked violently, but he remained lying still, too afraid to move.

Those copper coins were their family's monthly allowance. Losing even one could ruin the whole family.

The thug then struck again with his stick, and the child's back trembled.

A copper coin was shaken and rolled away.

He wanted to pick them up, but dared not move... If he moved even slightly, the few coins in his arms would roll away.

Just as he was at a loss, the copper coin rolled to Ye Xiao's feet, covered in mud and water, yet it shone brightly.

Ye Xiao's steps didn't falter, only slowed by half a beat. With a very light press of the toe of his shoe, he buried the slight sound into the mud; with a smooth flick of his instep, the copper coin slid back along the ground, stopping just within the child's fingertips.

The child looked up and glanced at him, but his eyes didn't look like he was pleading for help; instead, he instinctively shrank back.

In the Silent Alley, even glancing around is considered restless and will only result in a worse beating.

The thug's eyes swept over as well, the tip of his stick tapping in the mud with a "thud," his smile as thin as the back of a knife.

"Don't let me see you meddling in other people's business again."

Ye Xiao didn't turn around. He knew that if he looked back even once more, he would not only get into trouble, but the child would also suffer even more.

He would occasionally think of another world where life was completely different.

But after more than ten years in the Silent Alley, he knew that sometimes, kindness can actually harm people.

All he can do now is try to save the child from getting hit so many times.

Ye Xiao did not stop, nor could he stop...

Two streets further north lies the inner city of the lower town, where the lights are blindingly bright.

But it never shone into the alley where no one knew.

The wind blew in from the direction of the workers' quarters, mixing iron filings, coal ash, dampness, and a putrid smell together, making one's throat tighten.

People in the Silent Alley usually die quietly.

But in the past two weeks...

The miasma was like a cold knife seeping from the ground, cutting people silently and causing them to fall.

This miasma alone has claimed dozens of lives.

The people who were carrying materials in the workshop yesterday were wrapped in gray cloth and dragged away the next day.

Ye Xiao had also seen a man lying in the snow at the entrance of the workshop. The leatherworker nudged him with his toe and turned him over... His mouth and nose were covered with congealed black blood, as if someone had hollowed out a layer of it.

The leatherworker examined the dead body with such skill that it was like picking out merchandise; he could move on with a flick of his fingertips, not even bothering to look for more than a moment.

He was standing quite far away, but his fingertips still unconsciously tensed, gripping the rough edges of the bundle of firewood. His frostbitten knuckles ached slightly from the wood bark, so he tightened his grip even more.

Today it's someone else.

In a few days... it could be him too.

When this thought arose, he didn't panic; he only felt the urge to live growing stronger in his chest.

The doors of each household were tied shut with straw ropes, and gray cloths were hung at the entrances.

From a distance, they look like death notices hardened by the cold wind.

A soft "knock, knock, knock" sound approached from the depths of the alley, like someone calling out names along a gray cloth.

Ye Xiao hugged the firewood tightly, lowered his head and walked sideways. The sour smell mixed with the stench of corpses was swept up by the cold wind and went straight into his nostrils.

He tightened his grip but made no sound, his steps neither fast nor slow.

"Brother Xiao."

The voice coming from the shadows was soft and hoarse, as if it were shivering from the cold wind.

Ye Xiao stopped and saw Lin Yan squeeze out from behind the cracked wall.

His cheeks were bruised and purple, his mouth was split open with blood, and his clothes were torn and tattered. A gust of cold wind made him shiver, as if the pain was tearing at his very bones.

Lin Yan is a gossip and has good information, but he's a bit timid.

His first glance wasn't at Ye Xiao, but rather he glanced towards the alley entrance, then pressed himself even deeper into the shadow of the wall, as if afraid someone might appear and take him along.

Ye Xiao's fingers tightened slightly, his gaze darkening slightly: "The Green Owl Gang again?"

"Who else could it be?"

Lin Yan's breath was like a leaky gust of wind. He resigned himself to his fate, then took another bite: "These people are the best at picking on the weak. They think they can't get rid of you clean enough after just one bite."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing, swallowed back the word "coward," and spoke with a hint of sneer:

"The higher-ups think this place is dirty, so they don't bother with it or come here. All the dirty work—the alleyway money, the gambling dens, the workers' quarters—is dumped on the Green Owl Gang. They take the profits, and we're treated like dogs."

"Of course, they're not the real ancestors. The city guard still sends someone down every month, and when they see them, they still bow their heads and smile even more obediently than we do."

"But that has nothing to do with us. For people like us, the police are as far away as the sky, and they won't seek justice for us."

Lin Yan inhaled a breath of cold air, her chest aching with a tightness, but she still managed to utter the words:

"Zhang Tu Gang and his men kicked me a few times... If they really killed me, no one would ask a question."

"He even made me lie down and lick the dust off the ground..."

When he said the word "lick," his Adam's apple bobbed violently, as if a humiliation had been stirred up by the wind, scraping painfully:

"I didn't agree, so I could only take the beating. When he got impatient, he threatened me with the death contract, saying that if I didn't obey, he would make me sign the death contract."

Ye Xiao's brow twitched slightly, as if suppressing a rising thought: "That thing is untouchable. No one who signed it has survived more than three days."

"I know that too."

Lin Yan's voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded: "There was a moment... when I really wanted to press it."

He subconsciously rubbed his palms together, rubbing harder and harder until they were red, as if he wanted to rub away the 'handprint' first:

"My mother is so sick she can't get out of bed... They put the death contract in front of me and said that as long as I put my fingerprint on it, they would give me a bowl of medicine."

He looked up at Ye Xiao, his gaze quick and direct, as if laying bare an account: "In the Silent Alley, a bowl of medicine is a life. The price is clearly marked; if you want the medicine, you pay with your life."

Ye Xiao simply hummed in agreement.

He was all too familiar with that suffocating feeling of being forced to risk his life for medicine.

"Let's not talk about me... It's Ah Shuang's side that's really not quite right."

Lin Yan took a breath of cold air and lowered his voice even further, as if afraid even the wind would hear him:

"The Qing Dynasty entertainment district... is about to come down."

"They've been picking out the smaller, cleaner ones lately. Ah Shuang has already been put on the list."

As soon as the words "Qingjifang" were uttered, the alley seemed to have its throat choked, and even the wind seemed to thin out.

Ye Xiao paused for a moment, his knuckles slowly tightening on the firewood, his finger bones turning white line by line: "I understand."

Ashuang was a girl who grew up with them in the Silent Alley, desperately trying to stay alive.

Lin Yan gritted his teeth and delivered the final blow:

"I went there once before, and her mother didn't even dare to turn on the lights. She said that if there was any light, she was afraid that someone would see that there was a girl inside. She also knew that once you went into that kind of place, you would never come out again."

"I saw Ashuang huddled behind the door. She was so thin that her collarbone looked like it was about to pierce through, but her eyes were still bright."

As he spoke, Lin Yan clenched his teeth, making them tremble.

Ye Xiao was silent for a moment, then took out a hard, dry biscuit from his pocket and stuffed it into his arms: "Eat."

Lin Yan froze, her fingertips digging into the rough, hard edge of the dry biscuit, as if she wanted to give it back but couldn't bear to let go. When poor people see something edible, their hands make the first decision.

A gust of wind blew, and some dust settled on the edge of the dry biscuit, but he gripped it even tighter.

He whispered, "Thank you."

After a few breaths.

Lin Yan asked softly, as if he were puffing something up, but it sounded like he was carrying his entire life on his shoulders:

"Brother Xiao... do you think that if we could become martial artists, we could live like human beings?"

He looked up at the gray sky, his voice dry and bitter:

"I saw a man in martial arts robes at the city gate the day before yesterday... Wherever he went, the crowd would part on its own. No one dared to block him, not even daring to look up."

"A warrior in a martial robe is more imposing than an official in the lower city."

He glanced at his chapped fingers, then pulled them back into his sleeve, as if hiding away even that unwarranted hope.

"But with our background... even standing meditation is a luxury, let alone becoming a martial artist."

He twitched the corners of his mouth, his smile drier than the cold wind: "Martial artists can change their fate, but we can't even find or touch that door."

Finally, he looked up at Ye Xiao, his voice as soft as if asking for a promise that wouldn't be laughed at:

"If you ever actually touch that door... help me see what's behind it."

After saying that, he shrank into the dark alley, his figure quickly swallowed up by the wind and shadows.

Ye Xiao fell silent as he watched the other person disappear.

He didn't know where the door was.

But he knew that if he could really get in, he would no longer have to beg for survival.

Musha?

It's out of reach for him now.

But the more unattainable it is, the more it seems like the only path that can completely shatter the injustices of this world.

……

The wooden door creaked softly and dryly as it was pushed open.

There was only one lamp in the room, its oil nearly depleted, its flame flickering and swaying in the cold wind.

A drafty, damp, and muddy air wafted from the corner.

The stove is cold.

It wasn't the kind of cold that comes from a fire that's just been extinguished, but the kind of cold that you can tell just by touching it—it's the kind of cold that hasn't been lit for many days.

The bottom of the iron pot was covered with a hard, dry paste that couldn't be scraped off, and the edges were stained with grayish-white water... leaving only traces of boiling in water.

The mother leaned against the wall, her face pale, and every breath seemed to be pulled by pain.

She was once one of the few beautiful girls in the alley of muteness, but now all that remains is a shadow worn away by illness. Her temples have turned white very early, unlike what one would expect at her age.

A small figure was curled up on the bed... Ye Xiaoxue, the younger sister.

Her delicate face was flushed red, and the damp cloth on her forehead had long since frozen into a hard sheet. Huddled in the blankets, she was a tiny ball, her breathing as light as a cat sleeping in cotton.

There was often a bit of frost on her eyelashes, making them look like they were about to shatter when she blinked.

Those eyes and brows were so clean they seemed almost too clean, making them appear as if they were the only thing in this drafty room that shouldn't be touched by dust.

"You're back?" The mother looked up, forcing a tired smile.

You should get some rest.

Ye Xiao put down the scraps and broken firewood, and first took off the old cloth for Xiao Xue. The moment his palm touched her forehead, it felt as hot as fire. His fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly, then steadied themselves.

"It's too cold inside. If I don't stay by your sister's side... I'm afraid she won't be able to breathe."

The mother coughed lightly twice, hesitated for a moment, and then said in a low voice, "Your second uncle came this afternoon."

Ye Xiao paused slightly.

He wrung out the wet cloth in his hands and continued to change Xiaoxue's clothes. The light flickered, but the coldness in his eyes did not waver.