The twilight deepened, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and dusky orange. Lin Yang knew this meant he and his mother would be staying the night at Uncle Zhou's cottage. The encroaching darkness brought with it the increased activity of Half-Demon Beasts, creatures born of demonic influence but possessing less than a century of life.

While not the most powerful of adversaries, they posed a significant threat, especially to travelers on the lonely roads back to their townlet. The risk was too great to journey at night.

Uncle Zhou’s home offered a safe haven. He had twin daughters, close in age to Lin Yang. Despite their proximity and shared blood, Lin Yang’s relationship with his cousins was strained. Perhaps it stemmed from an underlying fear, a sense of the unknown that radiated from the towering fifteen-year-old. Lin Yang, though young, possessed an imposing physique, standing a full two meters tall, a stark contrast to the more delicate builds of his cousins. This physical disparity, coupled with his quiet demeanor, created a distance between them. He also looked older than Uncle Zhou.

The day had been significant. Lin Yang had finally awakened his Spirit. The anticipation had been almost unbearable, a knot of hope and trepidation twisting in his stomach. The reality, however, had been… underwhelming, initially.

He had known the possibility of disappointment loomed large. His Iron Spirit, though a rare metallic type, held no guarantee of extraordinary abilities. Many Iron Spirits were simply that – inert lumps of metal, offering no more than a symbolic connection to the spiritual realm.

Yet, as he held the newly awakened Spirit in his hand, a sense of wonder began to stir. It was undeniably well-crafted. The surface was smooth and glassy, reflecting the dim light of the cottage with an almost ethereal sheen. The craftsmanship was evident in the precision of its form, the meticulous attention to detail that spoke of a skilled artisan. It was a perfect, if somewhat unremarkable, sphere of polished steel.

But then he noticed the protrusions. Two small, centimeter-sized bumps marred the otherwise perfect surface – two on the left side and one on the right. They weren't part of the steel itself, but rather seemed like separate additions, like miniature buttons.

A wave of curiosity washed over him, battling with a sense of caution. What were they for? Were they purely decorative, or did they serve a more significant purpose?

He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the smooth surface. A small voice whispered in his ear, urging him to experiment, to explore the possibilities that lay hidden within this enigmatic object. Another voice, more cautious, reminded him of the potential for disappointment, of the countless Spirits that awakened with no discernible abilities.

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“The spirit belongs to me! It’s up to me!” he finally declared, pushing aside his doubts. This was his Spirit, his connection to the spiritual world. He had the right to explore its potential, to unravel its secrets.

He decided to start with the single button on the right side. Taking a deep breath, he pressed it.

The effect was immediate and startling. The mirror’s surface began to glow, a soft, pulsating light emanating from within. As the light intensified, an image began to form, coalescing into a clear picture. It was a picture of a man, sitting cross-legged in a meditative pose.

The figure was remarkably lifelike, as though he were observing a real person through a window. Then, a jolt of recognition shot through Lin Yang. The man’s face… it was his own! Or rather, a version of himself. He even had the same distinctive birthmark beneath his left eye. And he was cultivating!

Lin Yang recognized the aura, the subtle energy that emanated from the man, the same energy he had witnessed when his older brother cultivated.

Then, even more astonishing, the word “Loading…” appeared beneath the image.

“What?!” Lin Yang exclaimed, his voice a mixture of shock and disbelief. “I am a Cultivator?” The implications of this revelation were staggering.

“A magic mirror?” he whispered, his mind reeling.

“Is this the future? But it’s impossible! I have no talent. I can’t even feel my cultivation base.”

The image in the mirror, his future self, continued to sit in serene meditation, oblivious to Lin Yang’s turmoil. The word “Loading…” remained, a tantalizing promise of more information to come.

Lin Yang’s thoughts raced. “Pill!!” The word echoed in his mind, a beacon of hope in the darkness of his previous despair. Five years ago, during the cultivator exam, his older brother had explained that all humans possessed the potential to become cultivators. The difference lay in their aptitude, in how quickly they could accumulate a cultivation base.

Lin Yang’s own results had been abysmal, a paltry 0.00012 cultivation bases qi every hour. At that rate, it would take him over a century to break through to the Qi Gathering realm and officially become a cultivator. Knowing that mortal lifespans rarely reached a hundred years, he had long since resigned himself to a life without cultivation.

Now, however, the image in the mirror, his future self cultivating, rekindled the embers of hope. “Maybe,” he mused, “maybe it’s true. Maybe one day I’ll inadvertently help a cultivator, and they’ll reward me with a pill.”

The thought was a long shot, a desperate grasp at a slim possibility, but it was enough to ignite a spark of excitement within him.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, his face breaking into a wide, hopeful grin. “Hahaha! Spirit!” he declared, giving his reflection a new name, a name that reflected the extraordinary ability it possessed.

“From today onward, you are Future, the God of Mirror, who can see the future!”

The name felt right, a perfect embodiment of the Spirit’s power. Future. The ability to glimpse into what might be, to witness the unfolding tapestry of time. It was a gift, a treasure beyond measure.

Lin Yang knew he needed to get to bed early. Tomorrow morning, they would return home, back to the familiar routines of their lives.

But now, everything had changed. He carried within him a secret, a hope that burned brighter than any star. And perhaps, just perhaps, along the road home, he’d find his lucky pill.

He drifted off to sleep, a smile playing on his lips, lost in a happy dream of cultivation, of power, and of a future yet to be written. The image of his future self, meditating serenely, remained etched in his mind, a constant reminder of the potential that lay within him, waiting to be unlocked.