Becoming a god starts with one certificate becoming eternal.

As night fell, the North Furnace resembled an open, blood-red maw.

The firelight pushed away the shadows, and the air was so hot it could cut you. The snow in front of the stove had long since melted into water, only to be frozen back into a thin, hard ash crust by the cold wind, which crunched underfoot.

Ye Xiao stood three feet away from the furnace.

That was a spot even the veteran workers didn't want to stand for long... The closer you were to the furnace opening, the heavier the miasma and the fiercer the scorching wind. If you lost your focus for even a moment, the heat wave would make you dizzy, your legs would give way, and you would fall down.

The veteran workers aren't incapable of standing, but they can't stand for long, and it's not worth it. The furnace operator isn't paid based on distance; taking even one extra step closer just means more work.

The scorching heat burned my skin, the miasma seeped into my nose and throat, and the alternating hot and cold sensations felt like being roasted in a fire and then thrown into ice water.

Ye Xiao remained completely still.

His soles dug into the rough stone surface, his toes gripping the slightly upturned edges; his knees were slightly bent, and his back was taut as a clean line. His breath rose and fell in rhythm with the stance training, and the Crimson Blood Stance descended, as if he and the stone beneath his feet were nailed to the furnace.

Sweat dripped from his chin, and before it even hit the ground, it hissed and turned into white steam, rising up from his feet in wisps.

The workers were horrified.

"How did he manage to stand there all day?"

"And...did he move closer to the stove again?"

"Are you crazy? That's not how you top a furnace. We haven't even had a break today. You can't think like this when you want to make money."

No one dared to approach him; they could only discuss him from afar.

Only Ye Xiao himself knew... he wasn't doing it for money, but to toughen his life up.

To make a knife sharper, you have to sharpen it more aggressively.

He had no way out.

When he arrived this morning, he told the foreman that he would be staying at the North Furnace for the next few days.

The foreman stared at him for a long time, as if he were a madman, and finally only said, "Don't fall, you'll hurt me."

The northern furnace is deadly.

But for Ye Xiao, it was also the fastest path: fast meant taking his life into his own hands sooner. Slow meant being trampled to death.

In the corner of my field of vision, the character for "fate" flashed by.

【Crimson Blood Stake - Minor Completion: 305/600】

Ye Xiao's breath didn't lighten; instead, it became even heavier.

The "sinking" of the Crimson Blood Stake is not about pressing a person down, but about gradually drawing back the scattered force, making the skin and flesh feel as if they have been scalded by fire, and the muscles tighten even deeper, compressing the originally chaotic force into a single force.

When raising your hand, it no longer feels weak and unsteady; the entire arm feels firmly attached to the weight: it's not that it's more powerful, but more stable.

The pain didn't lessen; in fact, it got worse.

The burning heat beneath his skin felt like being ground back and forth by a hot iron; the chill that had just been squeezed out of his bones was immediately poured back in by the miasma. He didn't pay attention to his progress, but only focused on pressing every inch of pain deep into his bones.

The more pain, the more stable.

The more pain you feel, the clearer you become that you are still alive.

……

The day after Zhang Tu died, there was no chaos in the Silent Alley.

People arrived at daybreak; they were also from the Green Owl Gang, with black lines on their cuffs, but they weren't as ruthless as Zhang Tu.

He didn't curse, hit, or bang on the bamboo clappers. He simply collected the money from each household in the alley, made a mark in the register, turned around, and left without even bothering to lift his eyelids.

No one was kicked to the ground in the street at the alley entrance, nor was anyone publicly shamed.

Behind the door and against the wall, those clenched hands slowly loosened, and the white of their knuckles gradually faded.

But before that slight loosening of the alley could settle, they realized: Zhang Tu was dead, but the alley would continue to swallow people up.

The only change is the person collecting the money, not the rules.

Ye Xiao was unaware of all this.

His world consisted only of the fireplace.

……

That noon.

The fire in the furnace glowed red across half the sky, and Ye Xiao was half a step closer than the night before. His skin felt like it was pressed against the flames, swelling from the heat, yet he did not retreat.

The sweat stopped dripping and instead evaporated into white mist, slowly rising from his shoulders, neck, and arms.

"This kid is really going to die here."

"You can't hold on, this is playing with your life."

The old workers couldn't help but glance over as they worked. They had never seen anyone stand there for days on end in that windy spot, stubbornly refusing to give up, with only a short hour's rest.

"With him standing there, we'll be less exposed to the miasma."

"I was betting he'd live for another month, but now it seems unlikely."

Most people gloated, and no one believed he could last long.

Just as the group was whispering among themselves, a sudden, urgent shout came from the direction of the stove:

"Quick! Someone's dying!"

Two veteran workers carried out the furnace-top worker, his body limp as if all his bones had been removed. His face was ashen, his lips purple, his eyelids half-open, and his chest trembled only slightly.

"I've been inhaling miasma for too long..."

"I couldn't catch my breath, and my lungs are damaged."

"He only works for a little over an hour each day, how come he's still like this?"

The foreman's face darkened instantly. One person was missing, and they'd have to find someone to replace him. He lowered his voice and said, "Take him away! Don't block the way!"

The man's head hung limply in mid-air, like a extinguished candle. The firelight illuminated him intermittently before he was quickly swallowed by the miasma.

"Another one."

Someone whispered, like a cold wind blowing into a stove: "One person fell to their death just the morning before yesterday... This month is really fast, one person has died in less than two days."

Ye Xiao's gaze paused for a moment, and his fingers tightened their grip on the shovel handle.

What he remembered was not the appearance of the dead man, but how his breathing stopped when the man's lips turned purple.

Everyone's gaze quickly returned to the edge of the furnace... At the forefront of the vent, the thin figure still stood, as if nailed to the fire.

"Why hasn't he collapsed yet?"

"This is no longer a matter of whether someone is tough or not..."

"This kid... is strange."

The character "光" (light) reappears in the destiny chart.

【Crimson Blood Stake - Minor Completion: 380/600】

The restless heat no longer emanated outwards; instead, it flowed down my shoulders and back, like hot iron being hammered into my muscles. The trembling that came with each breath was forcefully suppressed by my muscles; the trembling continued, but it no longer dissipated erratically.

People were still being roasted, but their energy began to "form a pattern".

Logically, as his strength increased, the effects of miasma and temperature differences on him should have weakened; however, he spent almost all his time in the Northern Furnace, and his recovery was too short, which made the burning pain in his chest even more intense.

With each breath, his lungs felt like they were being boiled over and then shredded by the cold wind. He could even feel a thin thread being pulled tighter and tighter inside his chest...

It needs to be cut off quickly, but it cannot be cut off completely.

He simply stood even harder on the stake, pressing his feet down even more firmly. His knees were numb, and his back ached as if it would break, yet he remained as steady as an iron pillar on the edge of a furnace.

……

The third night.

The miasma was heavier than the previous two nights, and dark clouds rolled above the North Furnace, like shadows churning and swirling in the firelight.

Ye Xiao took another step closer, and a few hours later a mouthful of black blood welled up in his throat.

He didn't spit it out onto the edge of the stove... if he did, he'd be dragged down. He just held it in his throat, and when the vent turned, he tilted his head and swallowed it. The taste of blood mixed with coal ash was so bitter it made his tongue feel numb and astringent.

The wind howled, whipping up the embers, as if trying to burn away even the faint smell of blood. His vision blurred intermittently, and his ears were filled with a buzzing sound of blood.

There were a few moments when he felt he was going to collapse.

But as soon as he relaxed his mind, his knees would sink down... He had long since mastered the Crimson Blood Stakes to the point of instinct: sinking down was equivalent to nailing himself back in.

The force of the stance repeatedly tightens the force that is about to dissipate, pulling it back round and round; the tighter it is tightened, the more empty the body will feel when it finally stops.

The muscles, though seemingly empty, appeared to have been repeatedly pounded, making them even firmer.

【Crimson Blood Stake - Minor Completion: 440/600】

The moment the character "光" (light) in his destiny chart jumped up, Ye Xiao felt as if an invisible hand was pressing down on his back.

The muscles in my shoulders and back tightened, becoming more responsive. With my waist and abdomen tucked in, the strength in my legs also came together. My posture might not be the most graceful, but it made me more resilient.

He slowly stuffed that feeling of weakness and limpness back into his muscles, inch by inch.

Ye Xiao clenched his back teeth, tasting a hint of rust on his tongue. The burning pain in his chest was gradually compressed into a smaller, harder mass.

He hasn't gone to the martial arts gym these past few days, and hasn't even gone home. He spends all his time going back and forth between the stove, the porridge stall, and the rest area, squeezing out his recovery time bit by bit, and his body is constantly teetering on the edge of weakness.

The injuries and miasma would subside with each rest, but the emptiness seeping out from between the bones grew increasingly severe.

……

On the mornings of the fourth day, the sounds of punches and whispers could be heard intermittently in the training ground outside the Canglong Martial Arts School.

"Did the one from the Silent Alley come again?"

"It's been several days; I'm afraid it's gone back to the swamp."

"With these conditions, you still want to learn martial arts? What a joke."

Tang Qi sneered: "The lives of people in the Silent Alley are only fit to be at the bottom, a three-day fad. Without resources and food, even if they learn stance training and boxing techniques, it's meaningless."

He Lin walked by carrying the medicine bucket, his gaze sweeping over a corner... empty.

His brows furrowed even more. Of all the martial arts school students, he paid the most attention to Ye Xiao; someone who fought so hard wouldn't give up easily.

As Xue Chan entered, her gaze unconsciously swept around the room.

That slender figure was nowhere to be seen.

She was silent for a moment: Could it be that I overestimated him?

Tang Qi said lazily, "Senior Sister is looking for that kid from the Silent Alley? I told you long ago, that kind of person won't last long. He's probably coughing up blood in some corner right now, or he's already lying by the miasma well. He's not suited for martial arts at all."

Xue Chan glanced at him indifferently: "How many breaths was it when you first stood on the sloping rock?"

The tone was extremely soft, yet it felt like the back of a knife striking Tang Qi's face.

"Two... twenty-three." Tang Qi muttered, "That's because he secretly learned stance training, otherwise he couldn't have done it."

"His ability to successfully perform stance training before even entering the hall is truly remarkable. You should know that countless people fail before even entering the gate..." Xue Chan withdrew her gaze:

"Even among the outer disciples who enter the academy, there are many who are unable to master the skills and are eventually expelled."

She recalled the moment Ye Xiao looked up that day and whispered:

"Perhaps he cannot escape his fate, but he won't die so easily. You shouldn't hold prejudices against him because of his background."

Tang Qi's face stiffened, he snorted and said no more, not agreeing with what the other person said.

He Lin left carrying the medicine bucket, his mind filled with thoughts.

What are those hands, which were so skilled that their skin cracked from practice, doing now?

……

On the edge of the North Furnace, the firelight made a pair of hands glow red, with bulging veins that looked as if they were about to burst out of their bones.

Ye Xiao was unaware of the discussions at the martial arts school, and even if he knew, he wouldn't care.

Despite the increasingly intense heatwaves, he continued shoveling iron and standing at attention.

【Crimson Blood Stake - Minor Completion: 490/600】

[Collapse Mountain Fist - Beginner Level: 230/250]

His blood and qi churned in his veins, as if being boiled by fire and then frozen by cold wind. He gripped the shovel handle, the calluses on his palms tightening even more, his knuckles feeling like they were stuck in place.

The force travels from the forearm to the shoulder and back, no longer scattering aimlessly, but flowing along a clear chain of force.

With the same scoop, he clearly used less effort and was more accurate.

He swung the iron shovel with both arms, each strike following the force line created by the Collapsing Mountain Fist. The essence of the fist is the force line, not the fist shape... As long as the force is directed correctly, even swinging iron can create that downward cracking force.

The shovel struck the iron filings, sending sparks flying.

The sparks stuck to the back of his bare hand, burning patches of scorch marks, but he seemed not to feel them... just a slight numbness, his strength remained steady, his breathing remained steady, and his stance remained stable.

……

The fifth night.

The wind was colder in the north furnace, and the fire burned brighter. The foreman glanced at him from afar, touched the copper coin, and said with a complicated expression, "If this kid keeps going like this, he's probably not far from death."

Someone muttered under their breath, "So what if he dies? Nobody lives long at the top of the furnace."

"You're going to take his place if he dies?" the foreman said coldly.

The man immediately shut up.

The foreman stared at Ye Xiao in silence for a long time, then suddenly realized: This kind of person will either die quickly, or no one will be able to control him in the future.

The moment the character "光" (light) in one's destiny chart jumps up.

【Crimson Blood Stake - Minor Completion: 570/600】

[Collapse Mountain Fist - Minor Mastery: 1/500]

Ye Xiao's vision went black for a moment.

His arm muscles bulged suddenly, only to be forcefully pressed down again, like a tide receding after it has crashed against the shore. The burning sensation within his flesh intensified, no longer scorching on the surface, but sinking deep into his muscles, pushing and supporting them.

He didn't think he could break through anything; he just felt that his power was finally starting to "obey".

The burning pain in his chest, repeatedly tormented by fire and miasma, was gradually ground into a deeper, harder strength. When the shovel fell, he could clearly feel that the force was smoother, and the power within his bones was more aligned.

But the feeling of being hollowed out is also clearer, like air seeping out from between the bones.

Ye Xiao had a premonition... His appetite was increasing day by day, and the porridge he drank seemed to be falling into a bottomless pit. It wasn't because he was greedy, but because his body was instinctively demanding more.

These days, porridge alone is no longer enough to replenish the body.

What you owe will be forced to be repaid in a different way: by being hungrier, emptier, and more empty.

He certainly knew that there were risks involved in practicing like this.

But as long as he could hold on, he dared not stop, nor could he stop.