Infinite_Peace

Cheng Ming and Liu Wei are known to be rivals. Cheng Ming is known to be rude and abuses his disciples often, while Liu Wei is known to be cold, indifferent, and talented. As the world knows Cheng Ming as a merciless person, he secretly adores his younger brother, Cheng Ming. One day, Cheng Ning's condition worsened and began to deteriorate. Cheng Ming began to worry and made a deal with the Demon Lord. Give up his soul for the cure. Cheng Ning begged his brother to not make the deal when he found out but it was too late, his brother was gone. With the world thinking that Cheng Ning is his brother, he will need to act like his cold brother and not get caught.

Substitute Rival

Meng Qingshan lay on the soft bedding, his body still weak from the intensity of the summoning ritual. His new sword, <em>Hei Xin</em>, rested beside him on a nearby table. The pain from the ritual still lingered, especially in his wrist, where the demonic mark had burned itself into his skin. The mark was a constant reminder of his contract with Zhuan Xinyi, the red-haired demon. Meng stared at the ceiling, his mind drifting between memories of the past and thoughts of what lay ahead.

"Chen Ning is dead," he whispered to himself, reaffirming the identity he had chosen—Meng Qingshan, a man walking his own path.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. "Can I come in?" Jiang Tian's voice called from the doorway.

Meng slowly sat up, feeling the stiffness in his muscles. "Yeah, come in."

Tian entered the room, his eyes flickering with concern as he glanced at Meng. He pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down. "You look like hell," he said with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Meng chuckled weakly. "Feel like it too."

There was a moment of silence before Jiang Tian spoke again. "You did good, you know. That ritual... not everyone survives something like that."

Meng nodded, but his gaze drifted to the sword. "I don't know if this was the right choice."

Tian leaned back in his chair. "You're stronger than most people here, Meng. I saw it when we went on that first mission together. You were unstoppable. I thought to myself back then, 'I've met a real monster.'"

Meng's eyes shifted to Jiang Tian, surprised by the blunt admission. But there was no malice in Tian's words, just admiration mixed with a hint of wariness.

"That mission," Meng murmured. "It was the first time I realized how far I had fallen into this path. I wasn't sure if it was strength or madness driving me."

"Sometimes they're the same thing," Tian replied, his voice softer. "I grew up in a small sect, and strength was the only thing that mattered. You either had it, or you didn't survive. When I saw you fight, I knew you had what it takes. But even monsters can have a purpose."

Meng remained silent, his mind swirling with Tian's words. He had always pushed himself to grow stronger, to leave his past behind, but the path of demonic cultivation seemed to push him further from what he used to be.

"Rest up," Tian said, standing up. "We have more missions coming, and I want you at full strength. Can't have the Blood Demon lying around while the rest of us do all the work."

As Tian left the room, Meng leaned back, staring at the sword once more. His recovery would take time, but the weight of what he had become—and the expectations placed on him—felt heavier with each passing day.

Recovery and Reflection