He once believed he had everything under control.

Huang Weizhe, a senior executive in Taiwan’s high-tech industry, had built his life on logic, precision, and discipline. Working at the heart of the semiconductor world, he was driven by efficiency and reason—qualities that brought him success and recognition.

But what no one saw was what lay beneath it all.

Behind the polished achievements, he was slowly being consumed by pressure.

He was carrying the workload of several people, with responsibilities that never seemed to end.
Sleepless nights, trembling hands, constant anxiety—he lost even the most basic sense of calm.

Night after night, one question haunted him:
“I’ve worked so hard… why has my life come to this?”

So he began searching.

With a background in science and engineering, he didn’t rely on feelings. He read, analyzed, and explored. Books on spirituality and life opened a small window for him, hinting that perhaps life was more than what could be seen.

But something was still missing.

Until one day, a colleague handed him a book—Zhuan Falun.

He opened it casually.
But after just a few pages, something inside him shifted.

“It wasn’t emotional,” he later recalled.
“It was as if many questions I couldn’t understand before were suddenly explained—clearly and completely.”

It wasn’t a feeling.
It was clarity—something that resonated deeply with his rational mind.

He decided to learn more and attended a nine-day workshop.

From that moment on, his life quietly began to change.

The pressure didn’t disappear.
But he learned how to face it.

His body gradually stabilized.
His mind became calm again.

Over the next decade, he found himself rarely needing medical care.
But the greatest transformation wasn’t physical—it was within.

In the past, working in a highly competitive environment, he often felt frustrated by unfairness and conflicts over responsibility.

But after he began practicing, he started asking himself a different question:
“If I were the other person, what would I need right now?”

He stopped trying to prove who was right or wrong.
Instead, he focused on making things better.

Slowly, he noticed something unexpected—
when he let go of resentment and competition, everything became smoother. Relationships improved. Work became easier.

The change extended into his family life as well.

One day, he lost his temper with his child.
His daughter looked at him and said:

“Dad, you practice. You shouldn’t act like this.”

He froze.

It felt like a mirror held up to him.

From that moment, he began to let go of control, to listen more, and to truly consider others.

His wife noticed the change too.
Eventually, she began practicing as well.

Today, looking back, Huang no longer pursues external success the way he once did.

He says the most important realization is this:

True growth in life is not about how much you gain—
but how much you can let go.

He often quotes a line from Zhuan Falun:
“The entire process of cultivation is one of constantly letting go of human attachments.”

(adapted from a real story. Full story at: https://en.minghui.org/html/articles/2026/1/6/232202.html)