Becoming a god starts with one certificate becoming eternal.

Chapter 88 Star Hall (Happy New Year's Eve!)

Xu Chongshan's chest suddenly collapsed, and he flew backward, his back slamming against the edge of the platform.

"Bang!"

My back slammed into the iron bar, which hummed and made raindrops splash everywhere.

He managed to squeeze out a short "ho" sound, his eyes were unfocused, and his legs wouldn't obey him as he slid down the iron bar.

Under the awning, Shi Mo's knuckles tightened suddenly, and the teacup clicked softly in his palm.

He leaned forward, almost standing up, his throat bobbing as if he wanted to stop him on the spot.

"bite."

A very faint tinkling sound came from ahead.

The sound wasn't loud, but it felt like a needle pricking your ear.

Graphite froze, a cold sweat instantly breaking out on his back.

He swallowed the words back, slowly placing the teacup back on the table, his knuckles turning blue.

He dared not cross the line again, and vowed in his heart: "Killing my subordinate Jin Gu, this debt is not over."

At the same time.

Ye Xiao stepped forward from the stage, stopping half a step in front of Xu Chongshan. Rainwater streamed down the bloodline on his brow bone, but his eyes remained steady and cold.

Xu Chongshan's back was pressed against the iron bars, and his body was still sliding down.

As soon as the burning fire of blood went out, the madness in his eyes was washed away by the rain, and the blankness only flashed for a moment before hatred rose again—but his body was no longer under his control.

Ye Xiao looked down at him, his voice low, just loud enough for him to hear: "That's your fate."

"It's not my fate."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned his fist into a palm and placed the base of his palm against Xu Chongshan's chest.

It's not about pushing someone off the stage.

It was to sever his last breath with a single blow.

Not big, not slow.

Just once.

"Bang!"

Xu Chongshan tumbled down, his back hitting metal with a loud clang, before crashing heavily into the water below the stage, splashing water half a meter high.

Raindrops pelted his face.

His eyes were open, and the madness and hatred in them finally dissipated, leaving only emptiness.

My breath stopped in the rain.

The people under the awning finally came to their senses.

One of the men in the inner gray sleeves swallowed hard, as if he had swallowed blood; the men in the outer black sleeves fell silent, not daring to even breathe heavily.

The hall masters had different expressions and different thoughts, but they all shared the same shock and surprise.

On the stage, Ye Xiao stood back in the center, his chest rising and falling steadily, but his knuckles were burning hot.

The lingering heat of the burning blood still lingers in the bones.

He raised his hand to wipe the blood from his brow bone, and raindrops dripped through his fingers, making a very soft sound.

But no one in the audience dared to speak first.

"bite."

The copper bell trembled once more.

It wasn't heavy, but it held the entire flag-raising area in its throat.

The guardian, like a scholar, still rested his fingertips on the bell, his gaze sweeping over the figure in the center of the stage, and he spoke clearly: "The victor shall receive the old flag and the old command of the empty hall."

"Determine the name of the hall."

"After the name of the hall is decided, a new flag and new regulations will be issued the following day."

After those three sentences were spoken, the awning finally seemed to regain its breath.

But no one dared to cheer; they even swallowed their saliva with utmost care—the body hadn't been dragged away yet, and the blood was still seeping in the rain.

The bare-armed protector raised his chin, gesturing to the side of the stage.

The flag bearer was a gray-sleeved figure from the arena. His steps were so fast it was as if he hadn't stepped on water. He came up the wooden steps, holding the "Old Flag of the Empty Hall" in one hand and the dark "Old Order of the Empty Hall" in the other. He stopped at the edge of the stage, not daring to raise his head.

Ye Xiao didn't answer immediately.

He stood in the center of the stage, his chest rising and falling steadily, but his eyes were even colder.

The lingering heat of his burning blood was scorching deep within his bones, causing his knuckles to swell, his temples to throb, his muscles to ache, and his blood and qi to become disordered. If he hadn't been holding it in, he would have collapsed on the stage long ago.

After a while.

Ye Xiao raised his hand, placed his palm on the flagpole, snapped his knuckles together, and lifted it with one arm, steadily inserting the "Empty Hall Old Flag" back into the flag hole.

"Thump."

The flagpole is inserted into the hole, and the wooden platform vibrates slightly.

The flag unfurled in the rain, the two characters "Kong Tang" shining brightly in the rain. The old name and old seal, but at this moment, they represented one fact: this hall was now in his hands.

He then reached out and took the old token, which was icy cold in his palm.

The protector, who resembled a scholar, remained unmoved: "Hall Name."

Ye Xiao raised his eyes, his voice not loud, but enough to drown out the sound of the rain: "Star Hall."

The moment the two words were uttered, the audience was stunned—not by the name itself, but by the weight of this step of "naming": once the name of the hall was set, the handover was an ironclad case, the old hall would change hands on the spot, and no one could change it.

Someone in the outer black sleeves instinctively opened their mouth, then swallowed the sound back; someone in the inner gray sleeves swallowed hard, as if they had swallowed a mouthful of ice.

It's not empty anymore.

From this moment on, the Qingxiao Gang's eight halls have one more: the Xingchen Hall.

The guardian, who resembled a scholar, paused for a moment on the copper bell with his fingertips, and said calmly, "Star Hall—Record."

He raised his hand to signal the flag bearer.

Gray Sleeve immediately retreated to the side of the stage, turned around and ran behind the awning to register at the flagpole to exchange for the Star Flag and to register for the Star Token. The old flags and tokens were filed today, and the new flags and tokens would be added later.

Someone in the audience finally couldn't help but gasp and murmur, "Starry Sky Hall?"

"Xu Chongshan—is really dead."

Beside him, Gray Sleeves stared blankly, his voice dry: "He hasn't even reached the Martial Realm yet, and he can already kill Golden Bone—if he were to reach the Martial Realm, who could stop him?"

Then someone else seemed to remember something and added in a low voice, "But he just used his blood to burn, this backlash—"

"bite."

The lingering echo of the bell cut off the rest of the sentence. Those in the know dared not say more, only withdrawing their gaze: whether it's useless or not is another matter; anyone who dares to utter a word today might be the first to die.

The hall masters under the awning had different expressions.

Some people's faces turned ashen, their nails almost digging into their palms; some had red eyes, so angry they wanted to stand up, but then forced themselves back down to sit amidst the lingering sound of the bell; and some had their eyes darting around, already calculating in their minds.

It's not about settling scores, it's about weighing the pros and cons and considering the future.

The graphite didn't move.

He sat so steadily that it was as if the previous "click" had never happened.

But the coldness in his eyes was so deep that it almost seeped out from the slits of his eyes.

Xu Chongshan is dead; his face and his cards are gone too.

In the water below the stage, Xu Chongshan lay on his back, already lifeless, the water slowly rising over his ears.

Further away in a puddle, Sun Ningxiang was still lying paralyzed.

It's not that no one is in charge; it's that the rules haven't been relaxed. The match hasn't ended, and the loser isn't allowed near the stage. Anyone who dares to drag someone forward is considered to be breaking the rules.

She coughed, her mouth filled with a metallic taste, but inwardly she couldn't help but curse: "A madman fighting another madman, the unluckiest one is the one next to me who didn't die."

She looked up at the figure on the stage, raindrops dripping from between his fingers, and her heart tightened instantly.

At this moment, she felt an inexplicable sense of unease: This person was so ruthless and vicious—if she were to travel with him, she feared she would be completely dominated by him.

Ye Xiao slowly exhaled after receiving all the old flags and orders.

As soon as he exhaled, the burning sensation in his chest seemed to find an outlet, and the backlash immediately surged upwards.

He swallowed hard, suppressing the metallic taste and preventing blood from splattering.

Ye Xiao's gaze remained unchanged as he turned to look at the four guardians in front of the stage.

The bare-armed protector met his gaze for a moment, his eyes sweeping over the wound on the protector's brow and the steadiness of his feet, before finally uttering only two words: "Tough enough."

The other three guardians remained silent, but their gazes towards Ye Xiao carried different meanings.

Like a scholar, the guardian's fingertips left the bell, and he calmly lowered the curtain: "Stop beating."

"The corpses are cleared. The defeated are carried away."

"Ye Xiao, the Master of the Star Hall."

As soon as the bell stopped ringing, the sound of rain became even clearer.

Ye Xiao's name will first spread throughout the upper echelons of the lower city; the Star Hall will also be heard by them and then by the entire lower city.