Becoming a god starts with one certificate becoming eternal.

Chapter 4 Nameless Corpse

In the blink of an eye, Ye Xiao had already stepped out.

Ye Xiao's feet seemed nailed to the ground, and with a push of his arms, he positioned himself horizontally between the iron blank and the boy.

"Bang."

The iron blank pressed down on Ye Xiao's shoulders and back, causing his vision to go black and his knees to instinctively want to kneel.

But the strength of the stance held him firmly in place.

His leg bones trembled, his cracked soles bled, and his shoulders and back slumped. But he held on, following the rhythm of his breathing during the stance training.

They didn't retreat even half a step.

The boy who had been protected collapsed to the ground, his face deathly pale.

The two workers next to him then realized what was happening and rushed over to pull him away from them, one on each side.

The boy was dragged aside and sat on the ground, trembling. His lips moved slightly as he said, "Th...thank you."

Ye Xiao did not turn around.

He felt a weight on his shoulders and back, and using the strength from his stance training, he slowly "moved" the iron blank pressing down on him back.

"Bang."

The iron billet landed, causing ice shards to bounce around.

Ye Xiao slowly exhaled, his knuckles turning white, but he suppressed the tremor back into his bones.

A faint, metallic taste rose in his throat, which he swallowed hard. He pressed his tongue to the ground; the taste of blood was so faint it was almost bitter.

Silence reigned all around.

"This stack of iron usually takes two people to support it, and to move it... it takes at least three people," someone whispered.

"He was like a starving dog yesterday, but he couldn't take it anymore. What kind of medicine did he take? Is this the same person?" Another person couldn't help but take a second look.

The others also showed surprise and doubt; the power Ye Xiao unleashed far exceeded their expectations.

The foreman watched from afar without saying a word, but he made a mental note of Ye Xiao. However, what he remembered was not Ye Xiao's merits, but whether he could exert more effort.

The old craftsman raised his eyes, his gaze lingering for a moment at Ye Xiao's feet, before muttering two words: "Strange."

After he finished speaking, he lowered his head and sharpened his knife again, as if nothing had happened.

Everyone swallowed their gazes, the work continued, and various sounds once again drowned out everything.

The workshop was busy until sunset, when the furnace fire gradually dimmed, leaving only iron filings and ash swirling around.

The foreman tossed a coin into Ye Xiao's hand: "Forty coins were for saving lives. The extra ten coins are for the extra work you did today. If you can keep doing this, you won't be shortchanged."

The copper coin felt heavy in my hand.

Eighty coins.

It was fifty coins more than usual.

Ye Xiao's palms clenched slightly, his fingertips pressing against the copper patterns. The three-diameter cable was still so far away that he couldn't see the end of it.

But it will allow their family to live a few more days.

……

As I left the workshop and reached the alley entrance, it was getting dark.

Suddenly, the sound of crying came from the side.

Some people say that Liang's youngest son went to collect firewood at noon and his hands and feet were frostbitten when he came back, so he could only stay in bed after that.

Ye Xiao didn't stop for a moment, but only gripped the eighty coins in his arms even tighter.

He has no right to pity others.

His family's debts are nearing their end.

In this world, living is not a right, but a debt that is settled every day.

The entire Tianyuan City, with hundreds of thousands of people, was divided into the upper city and the lower city by a high wall.

The upper city was blindingly bright, the light cutting off at the base of the walls; looking down, all that remained was a vast expanse of shadow pressing down on the foot of the city.

That shadowy area is the lower town.

Ye Xiao had once seen it from afar: a black-armored patrolman was walking on the top of the city wall, his cloak pressing down on a cold, hard mark... the seal of the city lord's mansion.

The patrolmen's boots clattered on the city wall's stone bricks, making a crisp sound, like treading on frost.

On this side of the wall, the money is still collected, and the beatings and curses continue; on the other side of the wall, the lights illuminate the clean streets.

The lower city was already miserable enough, but the Silent Alley near the entrance to the miasma well was the most miserable of all.

The wind is even colder tonight.

The straw mat by the door was blown up, revealing a section of frostbitten toes, which were quickly pressed down by someone.

At the alley entrance, members of the Green Owl Gang waved their sticks to drive people away, their movements unhurried, like herding a herd of livestock lined up in order.

"You owe money in the alley, either pay it or leave your fingerprint."

"Live contract or dead contract, choose for yourself. Don't dawdle, or it will be harder to calculate."

Zhang Tu stood in front of the door, gently tapping the door frame with his bamboo clappers.

"Smack."

The sound wasn't loud, but it seemed to thin the air in the alley.

A gaunt woman, holding a little girl, her hands trembling violently, pulled a small cloth bag from her bosom, her voice trembling so deeply she could barely speak:

"This...this is the bracelet my mother left me, please give me a few more days...please."

Zhang Tu reached out and took it.

It's not robbery, it's 'collection'.

He weighed the money between his fingers as if it were long-overdue interest, without even raising his eyelids: "The quality is so-so."

The bamboo clapper was tapped again, like the sound of a pen being put down.

"A few days is fine."

"I've already paid the favor with the bracelet, so please don't make things difficult for me."

The woman, as if grasping at a lifeline, repeatedly kowtowed, saying, "Thank you! Thank you!"

Zhang Tu didn't even look at her, shoved the cloth bag into his arms, and said in a flat voice, "No need for thanks. Rules are rules."

He turned the bamboo clapper, as if turning to the next page of an account book.

"But I have to remind you... debts can't be settled just by crying a couple of times."

"If you cry here today, others will follow your example and cry tomorrow. How am I supposed to get anything done then?"

He spoke softly, as if explaining a principle.

The next moment, he lifted his foot.

Concise, accurate, and devoid of unnecessary emotion.

"Bang."

The woman slammed into the threshold with a dull thud that felt like it hit her bones. The little girl in her arms was thrown back half a foot by the impact, landing face-first, a long, bloody scratch left on her delicate skin by the broken brick.

The sound of crying suddenly rang out in the alley.

The surroundings were as quiet as if someone had covered the throat in a mute alley, leaving only the sobbing shivering in the cold wind.

A few months later, a blacksmith appeared in the alley, shouting that he wanted to fight the Green Owl Gang to the death. The next day, three gray cloths were hung at his door.

Later, even his cousin next door who stood up for him disappeared. Finally, the blacksmith himself was dragged away in a sack and never appeared again.

Those who tried to fight back or put up a fight also met a similar fate.

The woman's forehead was cut open, and blood trickled down her stray hairs, but she dared not cry out, only choking back sobs, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

Zhang Tu flicked his sleeves as if brushing off dust: "Remember. I'm giving you a few days to make up the numbers, not for you to cry at the door for others to see."

He tapped the doorframe with a bamboo clapper: "Get out of the way, don't block the way."

As he turned around, he happened to come into view of Ye Xiao's back.

Zhang Tu's lips curled into a slight smile, as if he had discovered the most convenient IOU in the ledger. His voice was not loud, but it sent chills down one's spine:

"You little brat who owes three strings of cash."

The bamboo clappers tapped lightly on the palm, like setting a deadline:

"Remember, if you don't see the payment by the due date, just renew the contract yourself, so I don't have to make another trip."

"If you don't behave... we won't mind having one more hole in that miasma well."

Ye Xiao neither stopped nor looked back.

His knuckles inside the cuffs turned white bit by bit, and the frostbitten, cracked areas ached from his grip.

He forced that breath deep into his sternum, like shoving a knife back into its sheath; his fingertips trembled slightly, not out of fear, but as a premonition of his rampage being restrained.

It's not that I don't want to take action.

No, it's not possible.

He could tell that someone was waiting for him to make the first mistake.

If he acts now, both his mother and Xiaoxue will be dragged into the abyss.

Zhang Tu stared at that figure's back, tapping the bamboo clappers on his palm a little slower.

He is waiting.

Once the young man gets hot-blooded, he might turn around and curse, raise his hand... as long as he shows a little bit of "toughness," he can interrupt him in the street and let everyone around see clearly: this is what happens when you don't submit.

But Ye Xiao didn't even falter in his steps.

The smile on Zhang Tu's lips hadn't faded, but it had thinned slightly, as if his enthusiasm had been dampened, and he had bitten into a hard bone that he couldn't spit out or swallow.

He still scoffed, as if trying to save face:

"She's quite tolerant."

"What's the harm in tolerating it? If someone like you dies in an alley, no one will even bother to look."

Ye Xiao walked away, but his knuckles remained taut and white.

He remembered that face clearly.

This debt won't fall apart.

The sound of the wind tore those mocking words to shreds.

The alley grew darker and darker, as dark as an uncovered well.

The night wind grew colder.

As he turned the corner of the alley, he suddenly stopped.

A boy lay at the base of the wall. His thin clothes clung to his body, and his face was ashen and pale, as if he had just been pulled from a well.

Ye Xiao squatted down and touched her with his fingertips... It was cold; she wasn't breathing.

The boy still clutched half a copper coin in his right hand, his knuckles stiff and white. A gust of wind blew in through the crack in the broken wall, and the half copper coin jingled softly in his palm.

Ye Xiao felt a sound in his chest.

Even if he survives this financial crisis, if he does nothing and endures a few more winters, someone in his family will eventually end up like that.

The world will not stop for them for a moment longer; they could all be the next nameless corpse.

He suddenly realized: here, life isn't necessarily killed, but rather slowly worn away by the passing days.

He really fell, without even having a chance to leave his name.

This silent forgetting plays out every day in the Silent Alley.

Become stronger.

We must become stronger.

Not for dignity, not for face.

Just to survive.

Once the thought formed in his mind, Ye Xiao's feet had already stepped forward again.

The freezing wind rushed into my chest, but it couldn't extinguish the fire in my heart.

It even got blown up a bit more.

The road home grew narrower and narrower, and the darkness of night made even breathing heavy.

As he passed a broken wall, he stared at the black wooden box for a long time... but it must have contained the firewood that his grandmother had been given to.

But now the box is half open, empty inside, covered in thick dust, and as cold as the bottom of a well.

When my father was alive, my grandmother would occasionally throw down some unwanted firewood.

Once a person dies, they are gone forever.

They would find excuses every now and then to squeeze money out of the family. Now, they can barely afford food, and Grandma is asking them to subsidize Ye Chong's martial arts exam.

Ye Xiao remained expressionless, stepped on the edge of the box lid, and slowly pressed down.

The wooden nail snapped off with a "click".

He broke off a piece of wood and held it in his palm, his knuckles turning white. He didn't smash it, he didn't yell, he just broke the wood in two and gently tossed it back into the ashes, as if breaking his own breath.

I pushed open the door and went inside; the room was dimly lit.

The broken lamp flickered, the oil almost burned out. Mother huddled in the corner of the bed, her breathing so shallow it was almost inaudible.

Xiaoxue curled up in a ball, her face red from the cold, her little hands tucked into her sleeves, her fingertips showing a hint of paleness.

Ye Xiao walked over and pulled the tattered quilt up to cover the tear as much as possible.

Xiaoxue stirred groggily, her little hand peeking out from her sleeve, touching the air before finally grabbing Ye Xiao's clothes.

That little hand was soft and warm, making his heart clench.

Xiaoxue's eyelids were so heavy she could barely lift them, but she managed to squeeze out a soft, almost inaudible murmur: "Brother... did you come back safely today too...?"

After saying that, he pulled his hand back, but still clung to the hem of his clothes.

There was another slight movement in the blankets.

In her daze, Xiaoxue raised a cold little foot and gently nudged his wrist. After nudging, she pulled it back, leaving only a section of her red little toe showing.

It was like using a habitual method to confirm... that her brother was still alive.

Ye Xiao's fingertip rested on her forehead.

hot.

It's worse than before I left home.

"If the fever doesn't go down..." Ye Xiao's heart sank.

The world won't help them, and neither will their relatives. If they don't become stronger and make money quickly, this house will be empty.

He went to the backyard last night because he was afraid of disturbing Xiaoxue.

He dared not go far tonight, fearing that Xiaoxue might have trouble breathing in the middle of the night, and he would have to hear it immediately.

Ye Xiao took off his shoes, put his feet on the ground, bent his knees slightly, let his arms hang down, turned his toes slightly inward, pressed his heels firmly on the ground, and breathed in rhythm.

He looked like a nail that had been pressed down.

Pile in.

The wind howled through the cracks in the door, and the lamplight flickered.

As time went by, the pain started from the soles of my feet and traveled upwards, as if someone were slowly cutting along the seams of my bones with the tip of a knife; my calves tensed, my thighs felt like lead, and my back felt like it was being crushed.

He remembered the corpse at the alley entrance.

Thinking of the ashes of the empty wooden box.

I remember my mother's shallow breathing.

I remember Xiaoxue's red nose.

With each thought, my heart hardens a little more; the pain only makes me more lucid.

Time stretched out endlessly in the cold wind and pain.

The character "光" (light) in the destiny chart lit up silently:

【Crimson Blood Stakes - Beginner Level: 10/300】

Ye Xiao noticed that his progress was even faster than last night.

The pain from standing meditation did not lessen with progress; instead, it deepened inch by inch, as if trying to press him back into the mud.

He clenched his teeth, his feet went numb, his knees were stiff, and his body felt like it was about to be torn apart.

He still refused to stop, and dared not even breathe too loudly.