September arrived.
The sun grew increasingly scorching, baking some regions so severely that rivers ran dry, with vast amounts of lake and river water evaporating.
On numerous short-video platforms, clips of people suffering from heatstroke became more and more common.
In some countries, heatstroke fatalities were no longer unusual—hundreds died from the heat every day.
Indeed, this was especially true for the most populous nation, the Boro Ancient Country.
Due to its exceptionally favorable geographical location in low-latitude regions, where sunlight was abundant, the intensity of high temperatures in the Boro Ancient Country far surpassed that of other nations.
In some areas, local peak temperatures had already reached or exceeded 50 degrees Celsius.
Certain regions reported three to four hundred heat-related deaths per day.
Many rivers had evaporated completely, leading to severe water shortages. Shockingly, more people died of thirst than from heatstroke.
Similarly, other Northern Hemisphere nations also recorded heat-related deaths. Some countries, where temperatures typically hovered around 20 degrees Celsius year-round, saw sudden spikes to over 30 degrees this September.
Countries closer to the equator were even hotter, with many surpassing 50 degrees Celsius.
As a result, equatorial nations reported significantly more heat-related deaths this year than in previous years.
Media outlets across the globe urged citizens to take precautions against sun exposure and heatstroke.
In Daxia, carrying an umbrella outdoors had practically become standard.
Some people even wished they could go without clothes entirely—the weather was unbearably hot.
Of course, sitting in air-conditioned spaces remained comfortably cool, but the extreme heat made many reluctant to leave their homes for work.
Online sales of sun protection products soared, with demand skyrocketing.
Items like parasols, sunglasses, sun hats, sunscreen, and cooling fabric clothing saw shipments far exceeding normal levels—an unexpected boon for many businesses.
Even Li Dong's contract manufacturing plants received a surge of orders, working overtime to meet demand.
This year's air conditioner shipments also far surpassed previous records.
Even electric fan sales were significantly higher than usual.
Some businesses, upon securing orders, ramped up production, hiring additional workers when short-staffed.
And hiring workers meant paying wages—creating a cycle that unexpectedly stimulated economic recovery.
After all, most nations' economies were struggling. The two strongest global powers were locked in conflict, while a third occasionally intervened.
These three major powers remained largely unaffected, but their smaller allies suffered, with economies sharply declining and triggering further economic downturns.
Though the Polar Bear Federation's involvement in clashes with its own allies and those of the Europa Federation generated some military-industrial orders for certain countries, these were merely a drop in the bucket for revitalizing their economies.
Of course, relying on this heatwave to boost the economy was equally unrealistic.
It was a temporary surge—once the extreme heat passed, the market would slump again, making the impact negligible.
Beyond sun protection products and air conditioners, sales of heat-relief foods also soared—watermelons, bananas, sweet drinks, sour plum soup, iced beverages, and more.
This year has been much better for the farmers who grew watermelons compared to previous years.
That's because the purchase price of watermelons has risen significantly.
On some short-video platforms, many netizens have complained that they can no longer afford watermelons this year, with a single melon costing thirty to forty yuan.
But before the complaints even died down, the price of watermelons rose by a few more cents a few days later.
This led to an outcry from netizens across various short-video platforms, collectively pleading for watermelon and other fruit prices to stop rising.
If they kept going up, they wouldn't be able to afford them anymore.
Of course, this was just an isolated phenomenon.
If you went directly to the homes of farmers who specialized in growing watermelons, the price was still very cheap—just a few cents, less than one yuan per jin.
The middlemen were the ones making all the profit.
Li Dong hardly had time to pay attention to such trivial matters. He had plenty of other things to keep him busy.
Securing the land in Donghua Village required connections and favors.
Especially those relationships left behind by his late father—these were favors that could only be used once, with no second chances.
To buy stocks at rock-bottom prices, he also needed to find trustworthy professionals in the field.
And those buildings in the city center of Pengcheng still hadn't been sold yet.
Or rather, he hadn't found the right sucker to offload them onto.
In truth, Li Dong knew a few big bosses were already interested—they just wanted to drive the price down a bit.
But Li Dong wasn't about to take a loss.
This wasn't small change—just a slight price drop could mean fluctuations in the millions or even tens of millions.
Since time wasn't pressing, he could afford to drag it out.
During this period, Li Dong also attended quite a few high-end gatherings and banquets, meeting bosses from various industries. In the past, he had hated these kinds of social events the most.
But to ensure a better life during the apocalypse, he had no choice but to put on a smile and attend.
Meanwhile, after Li Dong's mother, Xu Yajun, returned, she spent every day hovering around Song Weiwei, passing on all kinds of advice.
She was eagerly waiting for Song Weiwei to produce a child for the family—Xu Yajun desperately wanted a grandson.
After all, the wealthy women her age all had at least six or seven grandchildren by now—though most were illegitimate, they were still grandchildren.
Xu Yajun even urged them to get their marriage certificate early, saying that since they were already engaged, there was no harm in doing so.
As for Li Dong, Xu Yajun had no way to control him. Fine, if you want to fool around, go ahead—but at least bring back an illegitimate child or something.
That way, she could finally hold a grandchild in her arms.
It wouldn't even be a problem if he brought back a few concubines—the Li family could certainly afford it.
But the issue was that Li Dong wasn't interested in that. He had no qualms about going out with pretty girls, but once things were over, he'd walk away without taking responsibility.
Some of the other rich second-generation heirs his age already had who-knows-how-many illegitimate children.
If Li Dong knew what his mother was thinking, he'd cry foul—was it really his fault if they didn't get pregnant?
After all, none of the pretty girls he'd been with had ever gotten pregnant, despite him not using any protection.
As for the reason, Li Dong had his own suspicions—it might have something to do with his physique.
His physical abilities surpassed those of ordinary people—you could practically call him a real-life superman. His genes might simply be too high-quality, making it difficult to conceive offspring.
Perhaps it was due to genetic incompatibility—the other party's genes had to be of the highest caliber among humans for conception to even be possible.
But such high-quality and beautiful women were simply beyond Li Dong's reach.
Or perhaps, even if he met the right person, the timing was never right.
Mid-September, evening.
Inside a villa in the suburban district of Dongjiang City, the central air conditioning maintained a constant temperature of 25 degrees Celsius.
"This damn weather is getting hotter and hotter. Qingkang Province was much more fun—it was so much cooler there. I even wore a down jacket when I was playing around," complained Xu Yajun, munching on watermelon while scrolling through short videos and chatting with Song Weiwei.
"I heard this extreme heat will last until the end of November," Song Weiwei remarked between bites of watermelon.
"Mhm, I saw a news report on a video saying a typhoon will make landfall in a few days. It's supposed to bring heavy rain, so the temperature should drop quite a bit," Xu Yajun replied.
After so many sweltering days, this was finally a bit of good news.