Becoming a god starts with one certificate becoming eternal.

Five days later, in the evening.

The furnace vents were like knives, scraping at one's face until it felt tight. Smoke billowed and the clanging of metal pounded against one's eardrums, day and night.

The character for "fate" lit up in the corner of the field of vision:

[Red Blood Stake·Dacheng: 790/1200]

[Collapse Mountain Fist - Mastery: 480/1000]

Ye Xiao stared at the character "命格" (destiny) for half a breath. The blood that had been flowing like fire through his bones stopped burning everywhere and was instead locked within his skeleton.

Breathing remained steady, and blood and qi gradually returned to calm before the exercise concluded.

Six muffled cracking sounds echoed from inside my body, like old nails being forcibly pulled out, or like tendons and bones being repositioned.

Six resounding sounds as the bones are forged!

This indicates that he is in the middle stage of Bone Forging, and according to the "Light" character in his destiny chart, he is not far from the later stage of Bone Forging.

At the same time, he could clearly feel that the force was no longer scattered in his flesh and limbs, but had sunk into his bones. Raising his hands and lowering his feet were more stable and coordinated.

For the past five days, he has been standing on the edge of the furnace almost the entire time, practicing stances and boxing while working.

I only manage to squeeze out half an hour each day to catch my breath... not to rest, but to recover from excessive weakness, and then I continue to stuff myself into the fire.

People came and went at the North Furnace... Some fell to their deaths, some coughed up, and some were carried away, swept away by the wind like slag, their names never even mentioned.

He is the only one still alive.

Ye Xiao stepped down from the edge of the stove, his feet landing on the hard ground, and he felt a slight sense of unreality... as if he had been pulled out of the fire and only then realized that the ground was cold.

The foreman, as always, stuffed the money into his hand, but more carefully than before, the copper lining digging into his palm and causing it to ache.

"Master Ye..." The foreman's throat was dry, and his question was even drier: "Is that all for today?"

Ye Xiao hummed in agreement.

He pulled off the cloth, the soot-like bitterness still lingering in his throat, and a hollow space remained in his chest. Not large, but stubborn, like an unfilled crevice hidden in his ribs, palpable with every deep breath.

The medicine is finished.

He walked into the shadows at the foot of the stove, leaned against the cold stove wall, and slowly exhaled.

The wind slipped into his sleeve, cold as a knife, scraping his knuckles until they turned white.

Packets of medicine were added one after another, like adding fuel to a fire. The fire was lit, but the medicine was almost gone.

Before they started practicing martial arts, these medicines, if converted into money, would have been enough for a family to live on in the Silent Alley for a very long time. But now, they only lasted five days.

It's not that he earns less.

The path he took was one that burned through money too quickly, especially his cultivation methods utilizing the environment of the Northern Furnace.

Ye Xiao lowered his head, ran his fingertip across the mouth of the money pouch, and felt the cold, hard silver horn.

It's time to go.

The day of the robbery is approaching, and he must get back to peak condition... otherwise, he might be the one who collapses.

He pulled the collar of his old cotton coat tighter, turned around, and left the furnace area.

Behind me, the fire in the furnace churned and rolled, like lamps counting down.

The meat stalls at the street corner had already closed, but the greasy smell still lingered in the wind, like a thin layer of craving, sticking to the throat and refusing to dissipate.

Ye Xiao turned into the medicine shop street on the edge of the inner city.

The lights here are brighter than in the Silent Alley, but not warm; they're as bright as an open tent.

Ye Xiao turned and stopped in front of the inconspicuous pharmacy.

The old man behind the counter was rubbing the dregs of medicine. Hearing footsteps, he didn't look up, but slowly said:

"Here you go again. Are you here to pay off a debt this time, or to try and get credit?"

His fingertips paused, as if he were casually adding a stab to the surface:

"If you're going to buy on credit... the amount you had last time was already the limit of what you could handle."

Ye Xiao placed a thin piece of paper on the counter.

The notice from Canglong Martial Arts School.

The paper edges were frayed, but the ink was pressed flat, and the vermilion seal was firmly placed, as red as a drop of blood sinking into the paper.

The old man then looked up.

His gaze first fell on the red seal, and he lightly traced the edge of the seal with his fingertip, as if trying to scrape the price out of the paper, his smile very faint:

"I have a pass; I'll go by market price."

He pushed the note back half an inch, his tone still slow, but it was as if he were casually presenting another option:

"If you don't have enough silver, you can still buy on credit... triple the price, and we'll sign the contract as before."

Ye Xiao placed the money bag on the table, loosened the opening, and the silver coin flashed under the lamplight.

More than thirty taels.

This is what I've been saving little by little at the North Furnace over the past few days, plus everything that was left over before.

Ye Xiao looked at the old man: "That's not what you just said. You said I could only carry the debt to my limit."

The old man remained calm and composed, as if he had been exposed but was too lazy to cover it up, and said indifferently:

"Before, you couldn't even produce a note, so your value was limited... Now that you're an inner disciple of the martial arts school, you're naturally more valuable, and the amount you can get on credit is different."

He leaned forward slightly, as if to take care of someone, or perhaps to guide them:

"Your money is enough to buy medicine at market price, but if you need a large quantity, it won't be nearly enough. I can deliver the medicine on credit... Just make sure the contract is clear."

The words were spoken softly, yet every single one was designed to drag Ye Xiao into debt, trying to make him owe even more.

Ye Xiao raised his eyes, his voice equally soft, yet firm:

"Three times the price for the same medicine. That was something I had no choice with before. Now... unless I only have one life left, I won't choose it."

He paused, opened the purse, and stated his request more clearly:

"Don't waste your breath, just give me the third-rate medicine that can heal your wounds."

Healing medicine is the most common and acceptable option, and it's the least likely to arouse suspicion. As long as the medicine is effective enough, that's all that matters to him.

The old man's smile faltered for a moment, then faded, not out of displeasure, but out of confirmation that the young man before him was neither greedy nor impulsive, and knew how to keep accounts.

He gave a low groan, as if regretting that a fish hadn't taken the bait:

"OK."

The old man turned and went into the cabinet. A moment later, he took out six porcelain bottles, the bottles being rough and white.

He lined up the porcelain vases in a row and spoke slowly, his tone casual yet laced with sarcasm:

"These are all third-rate medicines for healing, none of them are adulterated, totaling thirty taels."

"Come back to me on credit when you're really short of money and have nothing left but your life."

He added one last sentence, his smile widening further:

"But don't forget... if you don't pay your previous medical debt on time, you'll have to follow the contract first."

Ye Xiao put the porcelain bottle into his bundle, and his money pouch immediately shrank, leaving less than three taels of silver.

He didn't turn around, only leaving behind one sentence:

"I will pay it back."

The fog hasn't lifted yet.

When Ye Xiao turned out of Yaofang Street, the streetlights cast long shadows, like a curtain trailing behind him.

He walked a few steps following the shadows on the street and stopped beside a stone step. Without turning around, he unscrewed the porcelain bottle, tilted his head back, and gulped it down.

The medicine tasted pungent and bitter, with a raw heat pressing down on it, like fire being forced into the stomach.

The moment the medicine took effect, the emptiness in my chest, which had been hollowed out, was indeed reduced by a bit, but it wasn't enough.

Without hesitation, he swallowed bottle after bottle.

Eventually, his breathing finally stabilized, and the empty space was gradually squeezed back into the depths of his bones.

Until the last bottle dissolved, the remaining gap closed, as if a crack had been smoothed out.

Ye Xiao then continued walking, following the stone path of the inner city, winding through two alleys, and turning into a teahouse.

This spot is near the intersection, with lots of people coming and going, but no one seems to notice the two people sitting in the corner. Ironically, the most inconspicuous place is the perfect spot for a business meeting.

He ordered a bowl of tea, his palm pressed against the rim of the hot bowl, as if he were just using the heat as an excuse.

Not long after, the curtain was lifted.

Lin Yan crawled in, her shoulders still damp with mist.

His face was cleaner than before... the bluish-purple had faded to yellowish-brown, like old mud imprinted on his cheekbone, and the crack at the corner of his mouth had scabbed over, with no new ones appearing.

Although Zhang Tu died, the Green Owl Gang continued to collect money from the alleyways and maintained the same rules.

But the newcomer, Black Sleeve, didn't talk much, and his hands weren't as lewd as Zhang Tu's.

Therefore, during this period, bloodshed ceased daily in the Silent Alley. However, Lin Yan remained vigilant, knowing that such good fortune was never static and could disappear at any moment.