’Scorching Soul City?’
’Never heard of it.’
’I think… I might’ve seen the name once.’ Jiang Xianwei said, scratching his cheek mentally.
’In an old book?’
’Yeah.’
’I think… I might’ve seen the name once.’
’Did you read anything about it?’
’Not really. Just happened to glance at it on a page once.’
’Didn’t even finish the title. But I think I’ve seen it before.’
That was about as deep as it went.
Conclusion? It was far.
Maybe a different region entirely.
Possibly even a different continent.
“Thank you.” Emperor Yunlan Haorang said.
“You may refer to me as Yunlan, Junior
“As for your city… can you tell us more about it?”
“What’s it known for?
Dou Xinshi slowly came to terms with a strange truth:
The elders… were really into boring questions!
He didn’t know why. But if answering them got him one step closer to free Peach Oolong Tea and Original Salfed Potato Chips, then he’d do it with honor.
If being mildly informative earned him rewards, then he was about to give the best boring speech of his life!
He puffed up his chest.
“It’s known as the city that refused to burn away, Elder.”
“The region is all heat, all the time. So hot that water turns into steam before it hits the ground. Our city’s right under the sun – no clouds, no cover.”
He nodded seriously.
“It’s always bright there. Even at night, the ground glows from the heat.
“Some people say you can read a scroll without a lamp. I’ve tried it. It works.”
“Also, most houses catch fire at least once. We’re used to it.”
“And yes, people do faint a lot, Elder.’
“But we’re tough. We’re the city that didn’t melt. Even our food are spicy enough to match the weather.”
“The buildings in the city are slowly being remade with heat-resistant blackstone.”
“The same stuff used for furnace cores.”
“But some old buildings are already so damaged, even a flick could knock them down.”
“Roof tiles are fireproof by default now, but that’s not enough either.”
“And if you dare to walk barefoot – ”
He held up a finger, face full of warning.
“You’ll cook your soles.”
The elders nodded in approval at Dou Xinshi’s passion.
Sect Master Bing Xuan, who hadn’t spoken in a while, opened her mouth.
“You may refer to me as Lady Bing.”
“Yes, Lady Bing!” Dou Xinshi said, instantly straightening up.
Then she asked,
“Junior… is there ever rain or snow in your city?”
“Rain?”
He blinked, genuinely confused for a second.
Sect Master Bing Xuan gave a small nod.
“There is, Lady Bing… but it’s rare. I think I’ve only experienced it once.”
“Even then, I thought it was someone above spilling special spiritual water by mistake.”
“As for the other one…”
He squinted.
“Snow? I-is that the myth you’re talking about, Lady Bing?”
“There’s no such thing as snow in Scorching Soul City.”
“I don’t think anywhere in our region has that.”
“I only read about it once. Said to be cold, white, soft…”
“The old ones said it was just a story told to kids. A bedtime tale. Something about snow fairies and freezing lakes.”
“I mean – how can water float down from the sky and not burn you?”
“If snow ever did fall, people would probably think it’s ash from the sky gods fighting.”
Dou Xinshi’s expression was completely locked in.
Firm. Convincing. Like everything he just said was the most logical truth in the world.
The group blinked.
Even Emperor Yunlan Haorang leaned back ever so slightly, as if absorbing the heat just from Dou Xinshi’s words.
But Sect Master Bing Xuan… was speechless.
Her Snow Petal Sect was perched at a peak so high that clouds regularly passed beneath them.
It was a land where snow fell as regularly as breathing.
Cold winds carved the cliffs.
Even beasts grew thick pelts or developed frost-resistant scales over time just to survive.
They all needed to adapt, build, evolve – such was the rule of harsh lands.
But this… this Scorching Soul City Dou Xinshi spoke of?
It sounded like someone had cranked the suffering dial to eleven and then broke it off.
The description was oddly parallel to their own survival in the snow, yet somehow, that boy’s homeland sounded worse.
The winter’s opposite had lost all mercy and decided to set up permanent residence.
She stared at Dou Xinshi for a long moment, lips parting as if to speak, but… nothing came out.
No winter season?
No knowledge of snow?
A land where the sky scorched instead of cooled?
What kind of cultivation path was that? Her gaze wandered slightly, and her thoughts followed.
To live in such a place… it sounded like pure suffering.
How did one even manage their skincare in such conditions?
Ah.
Her eyes narrowed.
She looked at Dou Xinshi’s tan, slightly rough complexion. Then at Old Tiger Zhao.
The old man’s skin was dark and dry, obviously because of being left too long in the sun.
But that didn’t explain everything.
Old Tiger Zhao especially… he looked homeless as hell.
It was almost like he liked the aesthetic.
No shame. No effort.
Just vibes and stains.
Bing Xuan’s eyebrow twitched.
She could tolerate eccentric. She could tolerate heat damage.
But if someone with that smell ever got within three meters of her?
She might have to remove them from this realm herself.
With extreme prejudice.
Sect Master Jiang Xianwei popped his fingers.”Hm… then let me ask, how did you discover this place, Junior Dou?”
“What kind of building or establishment did you enter to arrive where we are?”
Dou Xinshi sat straighter, face glowing with the fervor of a man about to recite scripture.
“It was a fated day, Senior Jiang.” he said solemnly.
“A day written in the stars, woven by destiny, marinated by time.”
Okay Shakespeare, calm down.
We’re not trying to start a whole Netflix series here.
They all twitched – except for Dou Xinshi, who was completely immersed in his own words.
Dou Xinshi lifted his hand, eyes turned slightly upward, as if visualizing a mural only he could see.
“All situations, all encounters, all meals that scorched my tongue and twisted my stomach – ”
” – led me to that singular moment.”
He inhaled deeply. Nostalgic. Reverent.
“The heavens heard my cry.”
“My guts turned over like a beast in agony.”
“My legs… they moved on instinct. A sprint, a desperate plea.”
“I rushed through alleyways, past broken walls, leaping over a sleeping chicken.”