All the heavens, starting as the ruler of the universe

What does it feel like when a new universe explodes inside you?

First, there is the complete annihilation and reconstruction of the "self".

Lin Yan's last memory was an indescribable shock that transcended the rules of physics.

There was no pain, no visual imagery, only a dramatic transformation of existence itself—his perception as a "human being" was instantly erased, and then, in the eternal light of creation, he was reshaped into an even more vast being.

He became the universe itself.

Consciousness is diffuse; it is the tactile sensation of dimensional expansion during spatial expansion, and the subtle humming of particles cooling down.

Time has no meaning, and thought is almost stagnant; only the "feeling" of the universe's growth continues.

Until the light tore through the chaotic darkness.

The first star was ignited by gravity, and the immense power of nuclear fusion, like the first heartbeat, crashed into the center of the universe's consciousness!

boom--

It was not sound, but the violent tremor of existence itself, the concepts of light, heat, gravity, and spacetime structure, forcefully poured into a newly formed container of "perception".

As if he had been asleep for millions of years, Lin Yan finally "woke up".

What awakens is not the frail human body of the past, but the consciousness belonging to Lin Yan's existence, which is re-condensed and illuminated in the light of the stars.

Lin Yan looked down at the newly formed star cluster in his chest, where a pulse resonated with his heartbeat.

It's a strange feeling; he is the universe itself, yet he cannot interfere with it too much.

Just like the human body, you can run, jump, eat, and sleep at will, but you cannot precisely control every organ and cell in your body.

However, comparing the human body to this cosmic body is still somewhat different.

Just like now, Lin Yan reached into his chest, pinched the brightest star, and slowly pulled it out.

Lin Yan didn't feel anything about losing this star, after all, it was just an insignificant star among the countless star clusters within his body.

Before joy could even arise, a chilling warning gripped him.

wrong.

This universe... is very "fragile," like a piece of glass covered with invisible cracks.

After all, the fusion of this universe with Lin Yan was also influenced by Lin Yan himself to some extent.

He could "sense" that there were glaring "blanks" and "breakpoints" in the network of rules within his vast body.

Every expansion of the universe is like tearing at these unhealed wounds, bringing a chilling tremor from the very foundation.

It needs nourishment, it needs repair, it needs... to become stronger.

Otherwise, he might not be able to truly "live".

A thought, born of an existential instinct, shone like a lighthouse in the darkness: Go "outside." Go to other, stable "beings."

The first attempt was almost suicidal.

An avatar sculpted from starlight and curiosity, having just ventured beyond the boundaries of the universe, was instantly torn apart and assimilated by the raging "pure information torrent" from the endless void.

But at the very moment his avatar was annihilated, a faint, distinct fluctuation pierced through the barrier of the endless void and was captured by his true form.

Within that fluctuation, there were simple yet solid physical rules, a kind of joyful yet persistent life rhythm, and ancient, energy-driving incantations echoing... Most importantly, within that fluctuation, there was a sense of stability that made the foundation of his universe "yearn" for it.

It was a vibrant world, with interesting and readily accessible rules.

The invisible "cracks" in Lin Yan's universe seemed to tremble slightly due to this fluctuation, emitting a silent yearning.

He remained silent for a moment, and the starlight gathered again, condensing into the shape he was most familiar with and most able to move in—the human body.

This is not just a physical body, but also his posture as a conversationalist in that world—a form that they can understand and converse with.

————Separation line

The New Universe, and the First Visitors

Starlight settled in his eyes, and he took his first step toward the direction from which the ripples were coming.

Crossing is not about moving, but about the harmonization and projection of existence.

Lin Yan meticulously aligned his own consciousness frequency with the core spectrum of that otherworldly fluctuation. Then, he "projected" himself—or rather, this avatar condensed from starlight and desire—into the direction of strongest resonance, as if sending an encrypted signal.

The turbulent information currents of the outer void attempted to assimilate him, but were deflected by that exquisite frequency protection layer. He was like a seashell drifting with the ocean current toward a specific harbor, carving out a trajectory that belonged only to him in the chaos of concepts.

Arrival was silent.

There was no loud noise, no dazzling display of light.

On an ordinary afternoon, in the shadows of a quiet alley in San Francisco's Chinatown, an almost imperceptible ripple spread through the air.

Lin Yan's figure emerged from the void, becoming real.

The first thing he did was take a deep, slow breath.

Information—a vast amount of vibrant, real-world information—floods in through this meticulously simulated human senses:

My lungs expand as I inhale the unique nitrogen-oxygen mixture that is so characteristic of this planet, carrying with it a faint scent of city dust, the aroma of distant food, and the feel of a damp breeze.

The retina receives the light and analyzes the bluestone path, the mottled red brick wall, the hanging Chinese signs, and the warm golden sunlight filtering through the gaps in the eaves.

The eardrums pick up the vibrations, and the distant, indistinct sounds of traffic, the television news broadcast coming from a nearby window, and the cacophony of people even closer become increasingly clear.

All this raw yet vivid sensory data was instantly categorized, analyzed, and modeled in his cosmic-scale consciousness.

But what he "saw" even more was the level invisible to the naked eye:

The entire world is enveloped in a dense, uniform, and healthy network of rules. Gravity, electromagnetism, spacetime structure... the fundamental parameters are reassuringly stable.

On this solid foundation, several rules have emerged that are noteworthy.

The closest one, with its aura of "kinetic control," wafted slightly just a few blocks away.

In addition, there are some detached, dark shadows, as well as a neutral energy flowing deep within all things, resonating harmoniously with the rhythm of the entire world.

In the depths of his universe, the "blanks" and "breakpoints" of those rules emanated a clear and restrained throbbing—not a savage urge to devour, but a strong thirst for knowledge and a desire to complete when encountering a perfect reference sample.

"It seems that some more peaceful methods could be adopted."

Lin Yan murmured to himself, his voice perfectly blending with the sound frequencies of the world.

He looked down and examined himself.

The starlight had completely subsided, transforming into flesh and blood indistinguishable from the local material. He wore a set of clothes that appeared ordinary, yet whose details were meticulously crafted.

All of this was shaped by him in the moments before his arrival, using the most minute starlight based on the information he had captured about the world.

He is not a ghost that appeared out of thin air, but a "person" with a reasonable past that can be traced (at least on the surface).

Straightening his collar, Lin Yan stepped out of the alley and merged into the sparse afternoon crowds of Chinatown. His steps were unhurried, his gaze carrying the gentle curiosity unique to scholars as he swept over the Chinese shops and signs on both sides.

His goal was clear, yet he seemed nonchalant.

A dozen minutes later, he stood opposite the "Old Man's Antique Shop". The shop looked quite old, with some Oriental antiques in the window that were hard to tell were genuine, and the windows on the second floor were tightly closed.

The fluctuations of that "kinetic energy" were faintly emanating from a certain room in the house, pulling against another weak but malevolent remote summoning force.

Lin Yan didn't rush inside. Like any tourist or scholar attracted by the exterior of an antique shop, he stood across the street and observed for a moment.

He was waiting for a more natural "entry point".

The opportunity came quickly.

The antique shop's old-looking wooden door was pushed open rather rudely from the inside. Three men, dressed differently and whose demeanor clashed with the antique surroundings, filed out.

These three are none other than Ah Fen, La Su, and Zhou, the trio from the Black Hand Gang.

They carried a faint "scent" that had been slightly entangled with the fluctuations of the "kinetic energy" rules—a subtle mark left from brief contact with the "rule condensate".

"Valon will be unhappy if he doesn't get what he wants."

"At least we've found a clue, Rasu." Afen patted him on the shoulder.

The three talked as they walked to an inconspicuous black sedan parked by the roadside and drove away quickly.

Lin Yan's gaze swept calmly over them before landing on the entrance of the antique shop.

Just seconds after the three left, a man wearing a blue turtleneck sweater and khaki trousers appeared out with a seemingly ordinary but actually unusually agile and alert demeanor.

He first quickly surveyed both sides of the street with sharp eyes, then locked onto the direction the black sedan had left in, and followed it without hesitation.

The only difference is the way it follows; it looks like parkour, but it's far more sophisticated than parkour.

In a few steps, he had leaped from the ground to the rooftop, nimbly bounding across the undulating skyline of San Francisco.

"Jackie Chan..." Lin Yan silently thought to himself, and the information was automatically matched.

This is the individual whose life rhythm is exceptionally vivid and active in the flow of global information, and who resonates deeply with the "moderate and peaceful atmosphere" of the entire San Francisco area.

His existence is like an exceptionally resilient and flexible node on the solid network of rules in this world, or more figuratively, a manifestation anchor of some kind of "luck" or "storyline".

Lin Yan no longer hesitated. He took a step forward and followed Jackie Chan at a distance that was neither too close nor too far.

His tracking wasn't based on visual tracking, but rather on sensing the unique "life rhythm" emanating from Jackie Chan—a rhythm as clear as a lighthouse in the night against the backdrop of a noisy city.

---

The tracking process is not complicated.

Jackie Chan "accidentally" fell into their car while the trio was waiting at a traffic light.

The conflict erupted suddenly yet with a strange sense of rhythm.

Ah Fen spotted Jackie Chan first, yelled in surprise, and slammed on the gas, driving towards the park next door.

The ensuing fight scene, however, caused a barely perceptible glint of understanding and appreciation to flash in the eyes of Lin Yan, who was standing far away behind a bus stop sign.

Jackie Chan's fighting style is completely consistent with the "rhythm of life" he perceives—efficient, flexible, full of improvisation, and extremely dependent on the environment.

He almost never engages in head-on physical confrontations, but rather moves like the wind, weaving through the gaps in his opponent's attacks, transforming everything ordinary around him into weapons or shields.

The most ingenious moment occurred: as Zhou charged forward wielding his electronic sword, Jackie Chan slid backward, leaning against the windshield of a car parked on the side of the road. The next second, he reached back with both hands, grabbed the car's windshield wipers, and snapped them off!

"Snap!"

He broke off the not-so-sturdy windshield wipers and held them in his hand, like two short sticks.

Jackie Chan's movements are fluid and graceful, carrying a peculiar "rationality" in transforming everyday objects into fighting tools.

This is not magic, nor superpowers, but rather an elevation of human physical coordination and understanding and application of the physical environment to an almost artistic level.

"A highly adaptable performance at the rule level..." Lin Yan silently noted in his mind, "Utilizing the physical properties of environmental objects to compensate for the lack of weapons and achieve tactical objectives."

It is highly efficient and full of... comedic surprises.

This appears to be an outward manifestation of a cultural or narrative rule deeply rooted in the foundation of this world.

The "windshield wiper battle" lasted less than two minutes. Jackie Chan fought against three opponents, and although he looked a little disheveled, he firmly held the upper hand, forcing the three to retreat. During the battle, he also made sure to evacuate the crowd.

The trio were completely fooled. Seeing Jackie Chan standing in the distance, ready to strike again, they exchanged a knowing glance and turned to run away.

Before Jackie Chan could even wipe the joy off his face, he suddenly noticed that his niece, whom he had only known for less than half an hour, was staring at him from a short distance away.

"Ah!? Xiaoyu?, how come you..." Before he could finish speaking, Jackie Chan's eyes began to glaze over, his body swayed, and he collapsed to the ground.

"take away."

The man in the lead lowered his head and spoke into the intercom on his collar. Several burly men immediately got out of the black van next to him, lifted Jackie Chan onto a stretcher, put him in the van, and drove off.

"District 13?" Lin Yan observed everything that was happening, pondering the possibility of using District 13 as a starting point.

After all, according to the plot, the talismans, masks, and demonic energy were all briefly gathered in the "incredibly safe" District 13.

"Hey!"

A clear and curious voice interrupted Lin Yan's thoughts.

Lin Yan turned his head and saw a little girl in a red T-shirt staring at him with wide eyes.

"You've been watching this place for a long time." Xiaoyu pointed to the 'battlefield' from before, showing no fear of strangers.

"You've been here since I arrived, so... which side are you on?"

Xiaoyu blinked, then stuck out her thumb and waved it left and right, pointing in the direction the Black Hand trio and Sheriff Black had gone.

"Neither of them."

Lin Yan crouched down to be at eye level with Xiao Yu and said gently, "I'm just interested in what happened just now and the things your uncle is dealing with."

"How about we make a deal? You help me rescue Uncle Long, and I'll get you that shield." Xiaoyu's eyes lit up instantly.

How do you know I'm not a bad person?

In Lin Yan's eyes, Xiao Yu's life rhythm was more active and pulsating, and there was also a special energy within her.

"At least you look like a better person than they do," Xiaoyu said, blinking. Her words were simple and direct.

"Then the deal is done, Ms. Xiaoyu."

Lin Yan smiled and extended his right hand. A three-dimensional image composed of starlight floated in his hand, showing the cars and buildings that Jackie Chan and his companions should have, and the buildings were constantly changing, indicating that they were moving forward.

"Wow! That's so cool!!" Xiaoyu stared wide-eyed at the constantly changing glowing 'star map' in Lin Yan's hand, her face lighting up with an even more excited smile.