Becoming a god starts with one certificate becoming eternal.

Ye Xiao fainted during his first practice session because he had not yet fully mastered the breathing and energy flow of the standing meditation posture, and his physical foundation was too poor.

But tonight, his breathing remained rhythmic.

He meticulously extracted the pain points he had noted in the Crimson Blood Stance: wherever it hurt the most, he would correct his posture from there. It wasn't about avoiding the pain, but rather about following the pain to grind the "most correct stance energy route" into his body.

It hurt a lot.

The pain just started to have a direction.

Standing meditation is like hammering blood into the bones...

At this moment, the old craftsman's words truly came to mind for him.

The blood that is spurted out is squeezed out from between the bones. The longer one stands in the Crimson Blood Stake, the more violently the blood and qi flow backward, like setting fire to the bones, peeling the person apart little by little from the inside out.

The skin felt burning, but it wasn't just heat; it felt like "fire running through my veins," and my pulse was so strong it made my fingertips tingle.

Ye Xiao's legs trembled slightly, and sweat dripped down his forehead, shattering on the icy ground with a 'plop'.

But he became even more clear-headed.

He no longer felt cold.

What truly breaks a person is pain, the feeling of their body being torn apart.

【Crimson Blood Stakes - Beginner Level: 11/300】

The instant the character for "light" in his destiny chart flickered, a tearing sensation shot up from the soles of his feet, as if someone had deliberately twisted his wound.

He almost instinctively wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, even just to rest for a moment, so that his legs wouldn't feel like they were on fire.

The old craftsman's words, "If you push yourself too far, you'll be carried out," struck me like a chord.

Ye Xiao instantly shattered his thoughts.

"As long as I'm conscious, I can continue."

He spoke in a low voice, as if he were struggling against fate.

The rush and tearing of blood and qi caused his legs to burn, but he remained motionless.

[Destiny: Heaven rewards diligence, one proof is eternal proof] He won't shield him from any pain... but as long as he doesn't fall, every bit of perseverance will not be in vain.

After a long while, the sky began to lighten with the first light of dawn.

The first ray of sunlight slanted in through a crack in the wall, like a blunt knife cutting through the night. The light fell on his sweat, and a faint warmth emanated from it. Little, but enough to prove…

The sun will rise, and people will get through it.

Ye Xiao's body went limp, and he leaned against the cold wall, closed his eyes, and let his breathing slowly return to normal.

【Crimson Blood Stakes - Beginner Level: 20/300】

He could clearly feel that his strength had increased, and the skin on the soles of his feet had become more resilient. When he walked barefoot on the icy ground, the biting cold no longer pierced his bones as it had before.

He fainted halfway through last night.

He stayed up until dawn tonight, which is a significant improvement.

He touched the nine-note hidden deep in his sleeve, his fingertips paused for a moment, and then dawn broke, and the account book was turned.

Eight days left.

At this rate of martial arts training, even if he trains until dawn every day, he will still have to endure it for a very long time... so long that the debt of nine days will drive him to his death.

Ye Xiao returned to the cramped room, where the oil lamp cast a dim light. His mother was dozing against the wall, while Xiao Xue was curled up in a ball, her breathing as light as a cat's.

Just then, a screeching sound suddenly came from outside the alley.

It was like a rusty wheel being pushed along, or like something heavy scraping across ice.

The hushed voices were indistinct; only the rough voices of several adult men could be discerned. Someone coughed lightly, and someone else swore.

Then... the creaking sound of the taut hemp rope.

Something was lifted onto the car and then put down heavily.

A faint smell of lime, mixed with the stench of blood and damp earth, was blown in through the crack in the door by the wind.

Xiaoxue shrank back in her dream.

Ye Xiao held his breath.

He knew it was a hearse.

The wheels crunched over the ice shards with a scraping sound like bone being scraped; the rope tightened and loosened, and the heavy object rolled along the alley wall with a dull thud as it fell onto the board... You didn't need to look to know that someone else had been sent to the malaria well.

A name was vaguely mentioned in the intermittent speech.

That was someone he had seen just a few days ago, squatting at the entrance of the workers' dormitory, drawing in the cold air; now, all that remained was a corpse covered in lime.

In the lower town, the miasma well not only buries corpses, but also buries all the truths that could cause trouble.

The people in the Silent Alley were already used to this sound.

No one peeked out.

Nobody gave it a second glance.

I've been watching too much of this, and now I have nightmares every night.

Ye Xiao walked to the bedside and pulled Xiao Xue closer to his arms, making sure her nose was a little further away from the crack in the door.

As the car noise faded into the distance, the alley immediately fell silent.

It was as quiet as if nothing had happened... Only the smell of lime lingered in the room, a reminder that someone had died, and no one would ask.

As Ye Xiao held Xiao Xue in his arms, he suddenly realized that they were only a few steps away from those who had been "thrown off the cliff".

It's not fate that's the problem, it's time.

That hearse cannot be parked in front of his house.

If you want your family to live, you have to make sure no one dares to reach out to you.

The sky was still gray, but the sounds of hammering and shouting could already be heard from the workers' quarters.

Ye Xiao covered his mother and Xiao Xue with the blankets, and only breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that Xiao Xue's forehead was still warm, but not as burning hot as it was last night.

He washed his face and drank some cold water.

My stomach felt bloated from the water, but I didn't feel at ease at all; the hunger quickly returned.

After closing the door, he walked towards the workers' quarters.

If it were anyone else, standing in that position last night would have made their legs weak and they wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

Ye Xiao was tired and in pain, but the feeling of his feet trembling as if they might break at any moment had almost disappeared. With each step, the force surged up from the soles of his feet, as if a thread was pulling him back up.

Upon arriving at the workshop, the old craftsman was still sitting beside the broken pillar, one empty trouser leg dangling down. The water basin in front of the sharpening rack was covered with an even thicker layer of ice, and cold water streaked the whetstone.

The old craftsman looked up, his voice hoarse as if polishing iron with a whetstone: "Standing in the stance again?"

Ye Xiao grunted in agreement and picked up the iron.

The iron weight on my shoulder didn't feel as heavy as it used to; on the contrary... I could control it.

The old craftsman slightly raised his eyelids, his gaze lingering for a moment on the man's footsteps, his fingertips slowly pushing along the back of the knife:

"Your steps are smooth, your strength has increased, but you're not weak or injured. It seems someone has been giving you medicine and food."

"But don't think this is a good thing. No one in the lower city will throw money at a teenager for nothing, unless they want you dead."

Ye Xiao straightened the iron block and said calmly, "I'll rely on myself."

The old craftsman stared at him for a few moments, his confusion etched into his wrinkles:

"The stances I taught you progressed faster than usual, but the wear and tear was greater, and the damage was deeper. It's not easy to get started, but you got started in just one day, and this rate of progress... is abnormally fast."

He sensed that Ye Xiao was hiding something, but he didn't press the matter.

Ye Xiao swung his hammer and asked, "If I master the stance training, I can become a martial artist?"

The old craftsman scoffed, "You think you've 'mastered' it after only two days of practice? You've only scratched the surface. There are muscles and bones on top of that. Each layer requires a lot of time and you have to risk your life to get there."

"Skin, muscles, bones, these..." Ye Xiao wanted to take the opportunity to ask more questions.

But before he could finish speaking, the old craftsman waved his hand to interrupt him.

"All you need to do now is focus on your stance. If you can hold on, continue." The old craftsman snorted, a hint of indescribable emotion flashing in his eyes. "The more stable and stronger your stance, the more your strength and skill will naturally increase."

Ye Xiao nodded, raised the hammer, and brought it down.

The movements are not flashy, but steady.

It felt as if his feet were nailed into the ground, and the force flowed from the soles of his feet to his waist and back, then to his arms, smashing into the iron billet.

The sound of the hammer exploded in the cold air, making people's ears ring.

The burly man who had been doing this for over a decade glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and paused for a second.

The burly man was stunned for a moment.

"This kid, yesterday wasn't just a burst of potential, he really did some standing meditation?"

Having worked as a hammer maker for over a decade, he knew very well that only those who had truly practiced stance training and had a solid foundation could connect their wrist strength and waist power into a single line.

Even he couldn't do that.

But Ye Xiao's physique clearly showed signs of malnutrition; he even had trouble getting enough to eat, so he couldn't possibly have the stamina to practice stance training...

Half an hour later.

"Tsk, this kid's got some skills," another person couldn't help but say.

"He used to be out of breath after swinging the hammer three times, but now he hasn't had a break." Someone next to him muttered in a low voice, "When I came back last night, I saw him standing motionless behind the house on the road. I thought he had frozen to death... Now it seems that he really is practicing his stance."

"Is he out of his mind? Is standing meditation something someone like us can do?"

"Given our conditions, daring to practice stance training... that's suicide!"

The workers were scathing in their words, but their eyes held a hint of jealousy and something else they couldn't quite put their finger on.

Nobody in the city will applaud a dream.

But being able to do what ordinary people cannot do, and daring to do what ordinary people dare not do, will always make people take a second look.

The old craftsman paused for a moment, glanced at Ye Xiao a few times, and then continued to sharpen his knife.

Another hour passed.

The cotton curtain was lifted, and a cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed in.

The foreman trudged through the slush, his shoes leaving a trail of black marks. He didn't speak at first, but shook the ice off his hat brim, then pulled a tarnished copper coin from his pocket, slowly rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger's fingers, as if to smooth out the contents of a bill, before finally speaking:

"The North Furnace is clogged again."

The coin was flicked between his fingers, making a soft sound, and then he said:

"Linzi twisted his ankle and can't go. We're still short one person to top the furnace, who's going to fill in?"

The entire shed fell silent instantly, as if someone had grabbed it.

"It's the North Furnace again..." someone muttered. "There's a lot of money, but that place is deadly. Last time, someone got frozen by the wind and roasted by the fire, and the blood vessels in his brain burst. He died on the spot."

"Some people also lost their footing and fell off the ladder, landing in a pile of puddles."

"Some people even rot away in three days after inhaling too much miasma."

The workers all knew that those who worked at the furnace made quick money, but risked their lives.

The three large furnaces in the north furnace face the vent of the miasma well. When the wind blows against the direction of the wind, it draws the miasma into the furnace passage.

The job of the furnace operator is to be at the very front: the vent is the largest, the fire is the strongest, the smoke is the most pungent, the temperature difference is the most extreme... and there's also miasma, so even a strong man can't last three days inside.

Moreover, the furnace is tall and the ladder is narrow, with hard ground and gravel below. If you lose your footing, you will fall to your death.

The foreman's gaze swept over the burly men, his brow furrowed. He didn't want to send any useful men into the fire for nothing.

People need to be supported, but the stove won't wait.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply put the blackened copper coin back into his palm, his gaze sweeping over everyone's faces as if he were picking the most resilient nail.

The burly men looked away, as if they were afraid that if their eyes met, they would agree; some simply lowered their heads and pretended to be busy, striking the hammer more rapidly than usual, as if to embolden themselves.

The only cold air was the draft from the stove seeping in through the crack in the door.

In the midst of this silence, Ye Xiao's fingers tightened slightly around the hammer.

The northern furnace is deadly.

But what flashed through his mind was not his own death from the fall, nor the image of his lungs rotting from the miasma.

Instead, it was the shadow of her mother curled up in the corner, Xiaoxue's flushed face, and Zhang Tu's lazy rhythm of tapping the bamboo clappers.

If we don't go... those three strings of cash will kill his family even faster.

What's more, he still has trump cards... he can fight back.

Ye Xiao looked up, put down the hammer, and the handle struck the ground. He took half a step forward, his voice not loud, but it cleaved through the deathly silence:

"I'll go."

All eyes turned to them in an instant.

Someone paused for a moment, then muttered in a low voice, "Is this kid crazy? That place makes money fast, but it also kills you fast."

Another shook his head, as if watching someone jump into a pit: "Nobody wants to go if they're not specifically asked... but he just throws himself in. Is he out of his mind, or does he simply have no brain at all?"

"Foolish... Do you really think you can withstand it? The furnace won't just break your courage, it will break your life. Even if you've practiced stance training, it won't change the outcome."

Someone else sneered, "Good, at least someone's taking the hits... Let's just hope he doesn't die too quickly. Otherwise, we'll be next."

The workers' voices were not loud, but they were all very realistic.

Ye Xiao ignored him and offered no explanation, simply looking calmly at the foreman.

The foreman stared at him for a few moments, as if calculating in his mind how many days he could hold on.

He suddenly twitched the corner of his mouth, not in a smile, but in a way that was like a knife slashing through the darkness:

"Okay, you're the one!"