The metallic taste of blood filled Lin Xuan's mouth. Every breath he took felt like shards of glass tearing through his lungs. The cold asphalt beneath his back felt rough, hard, and real—a stark contrast to the warmth of the fresh blood flowing incessantly from his torn temple. Above him, the streetlights of Jianghai City glowed dimly behind a curtain of falling drizzle.
"Is this all the heir of the Lin family is capable of?"
The baritone voice pierced Lin Xuan's eardrums, filled with cold arrogance. Lin Xuan tried to lift his head, but his neck felt stiff. Through his vision blurred by blood and rain, he saw the silhouette of his enemy—a figure of a man in a neat, expensive suit, standing tall with a black umbrella that seemed to be a throne of power in that dark night. Wang Chen, the man he used to call brother.
"You look surprised, Xuan," Wang Chen crouched down. The tip of his polished, expensive leather shoe stepped into a puddle without care. He spoke calmly, but there was a creeping threat in his voice. "Or should I call you a loser? Everything you owned has been stripped away by us—from your family's reputation, your father's once-revered company, to your mother's smallest hope of surviving in the hospital. Everything is gone."
Lin Xuan's chest felt tightly squeezed, not just by his shattered ribs, but by the bitter reality hitting him a thousand times over. The image of his dying mother and his father who went bankrupt overnight continued to flash before his eyes. Lin Xuan had been held captive by Wang Chen and forced to witness everything with open eyes.
All of this happened because Lin Xuan always allowed himself to believe in fear. He had always lived in the shadow of failure, imagining the worst-case scenarios, and the universe—in the cruelest and most pathetic way—had granted all those worries. Every doubt was a granted wish, and in every fear was a manifested reality.
"This is my fault," he thought amidst his fading consciousness. "I am the one who attracted all this calamity into my life. I am the creator of my own hell."
His vision began to fail. And in an instant, it turned into pitch-black darkness. His heartbeat slowed; every pause between beats felt like a chasm of death. However, at that point zero, at the moment when ego and body no longer had power, an extraordinary silence emerged.
In that darkness, an old understanding he had once read but never believed suddenly shone brightly. A supreme law of nature he had ignored all this time.
"The mind is a magnet. Your current state, your destruction, your death, all of it is a reflection of what you most often give space to in your head."
A surge of resolve he had never felt before exploded in his chest. This time, it wasn't just a desire to live, but a pure Vibration of Will. He did not plead to God, nor did he beg a cruel fate. Lin Xuan used the remaining energy of his soul for one absolute visualization.
He did not imagine safety; he only imagined a light, on a morning in the past, where he still had a chance.
"I am not here. My place is not on this cold asphalt, dying as a loser. I am there, in the past, where I have power over reality! I have returned!"
The desire was so pure, so strong, free from fear and doubt, that he felt a great vibration throughout his soul—a spiritual energy vibration that transcended his broken physical limits. His weak heartbeat suddenly stopped completely, yet his consciousness expanded as if he were pulling all the energy from this city into a single point in the center of his forehead.
The world around him began to crack like glass. The sound of rain and Wang Chen's cynical laughter vanished, replaced by a deafening high-frequency hum, the sound of the universe folding in on itself.
ZIiiiiiiiiiiiiNG!
The coldness of the asphalt suddenly turned into the texture of soft, warm cotton. The metallic smell of blood changed into the scent of room perfume he knew so well—the aroma of sandalwood and old books his mother often read.
Lin Xuan gasped. His breath came in pants; his lungs worked hard to draw in clean air. He did not feel cold asphalt, but rather a somewhat firm foam mattress—the mattress in his old room. His body was whole, no wounds, no pain from shattered ribs.
He opened his eyelids tremblingly. The bright morning sunlight entered through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the dust floating in the air, creating a peaceful atmosphere that felt foreign after years of living in darkness. He saw an old band poster on the wall, a cluttered study desk, and a digital calendar on the nightstand showing the date, December 25, 2015.
Ten years ago. The day before the hell for him began.
Lin Xuan jolted up from the bed, his feet touching the warm wooden floor. His hands trembled as he touched his own face, which was still firm, without stress wrinkles or scars. He walked slowly toward the large mirror in the corner of the room.
There, reflected the image of a twenty-year-old young man with clear eyes—yet the depth of that gaze—a cold composure, like someone who had passed through a thousand storms and returned to demand justice.
"This is real," he whispered. His voice was still young, but his tone was very cold and steady. He was no longer the old Lin Xuan, who was naive and fearful.
He was the Lin Xuan who had understood the supreme law of the universe.
"The world is a reflection," he whispered to his own shadow, quoting the law that had claimed his life but also gave him a second chance. "If I change the frequency within, the world outside has no choice but to adjust."
He realized that this was not mere luck. His soul had just proven the highest law of the universe: that unshakable conviction is capable of tearing the fabric of time itself, an ability that in the world of modern cultivation is called Thought Transcendence.
Lin Xuan stared at the digital calendar again. December 25, 2015. His memories spun back quickly, assembling the pieces of a dark past. This was the day everything began to crumble.
Today, his father, Lin Haifeng, would attend an important business meeting in a remote location. Today, his father would be trapped by Zhang Wei, his closest business associate. Today was the beginning of the Lin family's bankruptcy that would lead to death.
In his previous life, the naive Lin Xuan could only panic and cry at home, feeling helpless because he had no connections or money to help. He only visualized failure, and the universe granted it.
This time is different.
"What we believe most is what will happen," he thought, an absolute conviction soaking into his bones. Warm energy flowed through his veins, remnants of soul power from the future that were carried along the current, giving him energy stronger than just breakfast.
He immediately put on a thick jacket and ran out of the room, down the stairs of his luxury home which still felt foreign to him.
In the dining room, Lin Haifeng was reading the newspaper while sipping coffee, his expression looking relaxed and peaceful. This peaceful sight made Lin Xuan's heart ache. This middle-aged man would look very old and broken in a few months if he did not act now.
"Father, cancel today's meeting!" Lin Xuan spoke directly without pleasantries, his voice straightforward and full of authority that did not belong to a twenty-year-old youth.
Lin Haifeng lowered his newspaper, looking at his son in surprise. "Xuan? What is it? I've planned this for a long time with Mr. Zhang."
"Zhang Wei is a traitor. He has set a trap for you today," Lin Xuan continued, his gaze piercing through his father's eyes, radiating the absolute honesty he pulled through his conviction.
His father frowned, his expression turning angry. "Watch your words, Xuan! Mr. Zhang is an old friend of mine. Where did you hear such nonsense?"
Lin Xuan knew that in his past life, he would have backed down and panicked at this point. He would have screamed, begged, and ultimately his father would still go because Lin Xuan did not radiate power. But now, he stood with his shoulders squared. He did not scream, nor did he beg. Lin Xuan only radiated his absolute conviction.
"Father, listen to me. Think about the small signs Mr. Zhang has shown lately. Think about his strange insistence that you come alone. I don't have physical evidence now, but trust me. I am very certain, if you go today, we are all ruined."
There was a long, tense silence. Lin Haifeng saw that there was something different about his son. He was no longer his fearful and hesitant child, but a figure who possessed a strong and unshakable aura, a Master controlling the reality around him.
Lin Haifeng slowly put down his newspaper. Doubt arose in his mind. "How can you be so sure, Xuan?"
"Because I know how this world works, Father," Lin Xuan answered in his heart. "What we believe most is what will happen. And I believe you will not go there."
Lin Haifeng looked at Lin Xuan for a moment, then nodded slowly, as if Lin Xuan's conviction had infected him. "Alright, I will cancel the meeting. I'll say I'm sick."
Relief spread through Lin Xuan's chest. He had succeeded in taking the first real action. Although the threat had not completely vanished, he knew that this was just the beginning of his struggle.
Lin Xuan pulled out his phone again, searching for Zhang Wei's contact. It was time he taught that traitor a lesson. While walking toward the large window, he stared at the Jianghai city skyline. This time, he no longer felt small. He looked at the city with full confidence that everything was now under his control.
"Wang Chen, you were right about one thing in the future," Lin Xuan thought. "The world indeed belongs to those who dare to believe. And from this second on, I no longer believe in fear. I am the only reality you should fear."