Crackle—Snap—Boom!
Sparks flew from the utility box as it burst into flames, the sound loud and sharp like frying oil in a pan.
At that very moment, the entire block lost power—including the little noodle shop where Chu Yian had come to escape the heat.
"What the hell?! That was terrifying!"
It was her first time seeing anything like this. Chu Yian shot up from her seat, chopsticks still in hand, the slice of beef she'd just picked up tumbling to the ground.
She was fully ready to bolt, half expecting the transformer box to blow up and take the whole street with it.
In contrast to her panic, the shop owner remained perfectly calm, like a general commanding from the frontlines.
He casually dragged out a portable generator, muttering under his breath, "The damn transformer's blown again!"
Chu Yian hadn't even had a chance to use her own generator yet, and now the shop owner's model caught her attention. It looked about the same as hers.
She stepped closer, watching intently and memorizing the man's every move as he started the generator.
"You can go back inside and eat," the boss called over warmly. "Don't worry, this place won't lose power."
Chu Yian nodded, reassured, and returned to her seat. As she sat down, her eyes flicked to the still-sparking transformer across the street.
"Boss, do these things break often?" she asked.
"Never used to, but this year's been awful. Just this month, it's already blown three times. Every time it goes down, we're out for the whole morning."
He shook his head, wiping his brow.
"It's too damn hot this year. People can't take it, and neither can the power grid."
"No kidding," another customer chimed in.
"Yesterday in the South District, two people got hauled off in ambulances. Word is, they straight-up got cooked—heatstroke so bad their organs boiled like dumplings in soup."
"Yeah," a third person added.
"I heard the hospitals are packed with heatstroke cases. The city's even been running ads about staying indoors. They say even if someone recovers from severe heatstroke, their body's never the same afterward. Like… once an egg's been cooked, it can't go back to being raw, right?"
Terrifying.
Chu Yian listened to their conversation about people collapsing from heatstroke.
But by the time her food arrived, she had completely lost her appetite.
By 10 a.m., the temperature outside was still rising, and the power hadn't come back on.
She wanted to keep hanging around in the air-conditioned shop, but her Foton Five-Star trike was now parked directly under the blazing sun—practically baking in place.
"Boss, do you have any frozen water bottles?" she asked, standing up.
"No frozen ones—only cold from the fridge," he replied, glancing at the near-empty cooler.
"How many do you want?"
"All of them," Chu Yian said without hesitation.
The boss grinned from ear to ear and quickly packed up the remaining bottles for her.
Chu Yian jogged outside, hugging the bag of chilled water. The moment she opened the trike door, she felt like she'd stepped from a steam room into a furnace.
In seconds, condensation beaded on the surface of every bottle.
But compared to the heat outside, this icy water felt like a single drop in a desert. She didn't dare keep the trike parked here any longer, so she climbed in and began driving around the city, hunting for shade.
Eventually, she followed a small crowd and ended up under a bridge.
To her surprise, a decent number of people had already gathered there, hiding from the sun.
She managed to squeeze her trike into a patch of shadow and took a long swig of water, gulping it down like a person dying of thirst.
It was unbearably hot.
Usually when walking across the bridge, she didn't pay much attention. But now that she was down below, she noticed something shocking—
The river had dried up.
Most of the riverbed was already exposed. Only a few deeper pockets still held some muddy water.
Was this scorching heat going to lead to a full-blown drought?
That thought had just crossed her mind when she realized:
She might be stuck under the bridge for a while.