"How long do you plan to stay that way?"
The voice echoed within Cheon Meng's mind, reverberating with a power that felt both familiar and otherworldly. It was a voice that seemed to reach deep into the core of his being, stirring something long dormant. In the haze of his consciousness, he saw a blurry figure sitting on a rock, his back turned towards him.
The figure was shrouded in a divine aura, so intense that it seemed to bend the very fabric of reality around him. This figure wasn't addressing Cheon Meng directly, but someone else... someone from another time, another life.
"Always remember two things," the voice continued, calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.
"First, never harm the innocent. Protect them, for they are the foundation upon which all greatness is built. But the second they bare their fangs against you, you have gained the right to annihilate them, even down to the roots of their ancestry. It is not cruelty... it is justice."
Cheon Meng's eyes widened, the words seeping into his soul like a balm to his battered spirit. The voice was like a guiding light, cutting through the darkness that had nearly consumed him. It was a voice of wisdom, of experience, of a ruler who had once shaped the world with his will alone.
"So what if you're not strong enough right now?" the figure said, his tone shifting to one of encouragement.
"Strength is not an innate gift... it is forged through trials, through pain, through determination. Become strong enough that the whole world kneels before you... not out of fear, but out of respect and admiration. That is the way of a true ruler."
The figure paused, his presence radiating a profound wisdom.
"But even a ruler must first become a monarch, must cultivate the power to clear away the weeds that choke the land. Only then can true order be established. Clear your mind of doubt, and carve your name into the annals of history. Let the world either fear or revere you; what matters is the legacy you leave behind, not how others perceive you."
As the words echoed through his mind, Cheon Meng felt something within him awaken. His eyes, once clouded with despair, now sparkled with a newfound resolve.
The pain that racked his body was still there, but it was no longer a source of fear... it was a reminder of what he needed to overcome. Something deep within him, something primal and powerful, had been stirred to life.
Cheon Meng's body, bruised and bloodied from the torturous beating he had endured, began to react in ways he did not fully understand. A phenomenon was occurring within him, a shift that was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.
The five elements... Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water... began to converge within him, reforming his body on a fundamental level. He was absorbing Qi, the vital energy of the world, for the first time in his life. And he was doing so unconsciously, his body instinctively accepting the Qi that flowed around him, embracing it as if it had always belonged to him.
His breathing became steady, deep, and rhythmic, each inhale drawing more Qi into his body. The energy coursed through him, filling him with a strength that was both unfamiliar and exhilarating. His body began to repair itself, but the process was far from gentle.
The Qi was like a river breaking through a dam, violently clearing away the blockages in his meridians. His veins burned as the energy forced its way through, purging impurities and healing his internal injuries.
He coughed up blood, the metallic taste filling his mouth, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. His body began to bleed from various points as the pressure inside him increased, the Qi forcing out the dark, sticky substance that had clogged his pathways.
The pain was excruciating, more intense than anything he had ever experienced, yet he welcomed it. It was a pain that meant progress, a sign that he was not dying, but being reborn.
For hours, Cheon Meng fought against the darkness that threatened to pull him under. The battle was not just against his physical wounds, but against the despair that had rooted itself deep within his heart. He struggled, he bled, he screamed... but he did not give up. He could not give up. Not now, not when he had finally found a reason to live, a reason to fight.
As the night wore on, the storm outside began to subside, but the storm within Cheon Meng raged on. His body, now soaked in a mixture of rainwater, blood, and the dark impurities being expelled, trembled under the strain.
But slowly, the pain began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through his limbs, soothing the aches and sealing the wounds. The Qi had finished its work, transforming him from the inside out.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, it happened. A breakthrough.
Cheon Meng's body surged with energy, a rush of Qi that filled every corner of his being. He had crossed the threshold into the Qi Refining Realm, a level of cultivation that many spent decades trying to achieve. But he had done it in just two days, driven by nothing more than sheer will and the pain of betrayal.
He opened his eyes, his vision sharp and clear. The world around him seemed different, more vivid, more alive. The Qi within him resonated with everything it touched, as if welcoming him into a new reality. He could feel the energy pulsing in his veins, responding to his every thought, his every desire. His wounds were healing rapidly, the bruises fading, the cuts closing. His exhaustion was gone, replaced by a sense of vitality he had never known before.
Cheon Meng rose to his feet, his legs steady and strong. He was no longer the broken boy who had been left to die in the storm. He had been reborn, his body transformed by the power of the five elements, his spirit forged anew in the crucible of suffering.
He looked around the remains of his cottage, the place that had been his sanctuary, and realized that he could no longer stay here. This place, once a refuge, was now tainted by the violence that had nearly claimed his life. It was a symbol of his past, of the boy he had been... a boy who had died the moment he chose to fight back.
Cheon Meng took a deep breath, the air tingling with the energy that now flowed through him. He knew what he had to do. He had to leave this place, to walk a new path, one that he would carve out with his own hands.
But first, he needed to let go of the past. He needed to erase the remnants of his old life, to sever the ties that bound him to the boy who had once lived here. His eyes scanned the cottage, taking in the worn-out furniture, the cracked walls, the leaking roof. It was all a part of a life he had outgrown, a life that had ended the moment he chose to fight back.
He searched the small space until he found what he was looking for... a small, rusty knife that he had once used to carve simple tools and prepare his meals. It was a primitive tool, but it would serve its purpose.
With a determined expression, Cheon Meng crouched down by the small pile of dry kindling he kept in the corner of the cottage. He used the knife to strike against a stone, sending sparks flying into the dry wood.
The process was slow, tedious, and required patience... a quality Cheon Meng had never had in abundance. But now, with the weight of his decision bearing down on him, he found a calm determination within himself. He struck the knife against the stone repeatedly, each time coaxing more sparks from the blade until finally, one of them caught.
A small flame flickered to life, casting a dim, flickering light in the darkened room. Cheon Meng watched it grow, feeding it with more kindling until the fire began to spread. The flames licked at the dry wood, crackling and spitting as they consumed the pile of kindling and began to spread to the walls of the cottage.
"This day onwards," Cheon Meng whispered to himself, his voice steady and resolute,
"Cheon Meng has died."
He watched the flames dance, feeling nothing but a cold determination in his heart. The boy who had once sought only peace, who had shunned power and violence, was gone. In his place stood someone new... someone who had been forged in fire, who had embraced the pain and turned it into strength.
"They will pay," he vowed, his eyes reflecting the fire that blazed before him.
"They will all pay for what they've done."
As the flames roared higher, casting an orange glow across the darkened forest, Cheon Meng turned and began to walk away. He didn't look back, not even as the cottage collapsed in on itself, the last remnants of his old life consumed by the fire.
The forest loomed before him, dark and foreboding, but he felt no fear. He had been reborn in the heart of the storm, and now, he would forge a new path... one that would lead him to power, to revenge, and to a destiny he had yet to fully understand.
But as he walked, something strange happened. A name began to echo in his mind, whispered by a voice that was both his own and yet not his own. It was a name that felt right, a name that resonated with the power that now coursed through his veins...
"Feng Liang!"
The name sent a thrill through him, a recognition that went beyond mere words. It was the name of a ruler, of a leader, of someone destined to stand at the pinnacle of the world. It felt like a mantle he was born to wear, a name that carried with it the weight of his past and the promise of his future.
"Feng Liang," he murmured to himself, testing the name on his lips. It felt natural, as if it had always been his, just waiting for him to claim it. The more he thought about it, the more it resonated within him, filling him with a sense of purpose that he had never felt before.
He smiled, a cold, determined smile that reflected the fire in his heart.
"Yes," he said, his voice firm and resolute,
"that's a great name. Feng Liang it is."
With his new name came a new identity... a new purpose. The boy who had once been Cheon Meng was gone, consumed by the flames of his past. In his place stood Feng Liang, a man who would carve his own path, forge his own destiny, and leave a legacy that the world would never forget.
The fire behind him roared as the cottage collapsed completely, the flames reaching high into the night sky. But Feng Liang did not look back. There was nothing left for him in that place... nothing but ashes and memories. He had been reborn, and now, he would begin his journey anew.
The forest loomed before him, dark and mysterious, but it no longer held any fear for him. Feng Liang walked into the shadows with his head held high, the flames of his past life fading behind him as he stepped into the unknown.
The journey ahead would be long, filled with trials and challenges, but he was ready. He had been born into this world with a purpose, and now, he would see it fulfilled.
The world would soon come to know the name Feng Liang, and it would be a name spoken with both fear and reverence. Whether they feared him or prayed to him, it didn't matter. What mattered were his deeds, his legacy, and the impact he would have on the world.
As the first light of dawn began to break through the trees, Feng Liang continued his journey deeper into the forest, leaving behind the boy who had once sought only peace. He was no longer bound by the limitations of his past. He was free, and he would use that freedom to become stronger, to become the ruler he was meant to be.
The path ahead was uncertain, but Feng Liang was determined. He would walk this path to the end, no matter where it led, and the world would remember his name.
The flames of the cottage finally died down, leaving behind nothing but smoldering ruins. But in those ruins, a new life had been born... a life that would change the course of history.
And so, with the dawn of a new day, Feng Liang began his journey, his heart filled with determination and his mind clear of doubt. The world awaited him, and he was ready to meet it head-on.