Chapter 321: Fire Technique Firefighting Drill·Net‑wide Hot‑discussion Storm

Zhao Xing turned into the west city training base gate on his bike, his phone still vibrating in his pocket. He didn't pull it out to look, just parked the bike outside the cordon line, brushed off the dust on his uniform pants, and looked up to see the mock residential building at the center of the drill field billowing thick smoke.

Flames shot out from the second-floor windows, licking the exterior wall as they climbed upward; the heat wave hit so hard people could barely stand. A few firefighters in heat-resistant suits rushed forward, just as they set up their water cannons, the wind shifted and the fire surged eastward, snapping the load-bearing beam of the escape route. The radios crackled with static as the commander shouted to redeploy, but the fire grew fiercer, even forcing the drones to fly higher to avoid the heat.

"The dummies haven't been evacuated yet!" someone shouted.

Zhao Xing narrowed his eyes, watched for a moment, then suddenly walked a few steps forward and stood at the edge of the cordon.

No one noticed him. The scene was full of uniformed personnel coming and going—professional Team Members—no one would think a middle schooler in a blue‑white uniform with a backpack could do anything. Until he raised his hand, palm facing the fire, and gave a slight pull.

The flame that had been leaping upward suddenly seemed to have its neck grabbed, jerking to a halt and then beginning to retract. It wasn't extinguished; instead, it was "twisted" into a rotating fire pillar that clung to the wall, spiraling down until it lay flat on the ground, forming a two‑meter‑wide fire‑free passage.

The whole field fell silent for half a second.

Immediately, someone from the International firefighting team reacted and shouted, "Go! Now!"

Three rescue squads rushed in, carrying the dummy models out through the passage. When the last dummy hit the ground, Zhao Xing raised his hand again; the fire pillar "whooshed" and collapsed, squeezing entirely back into the room where the fire had started. The door slammed shut as if pushed by an invisible hand. A few seconds later the roar ceased, leaving only thin wisps of blue smoke seeping from the Door Gap.

No one spoke at the scene.

Someone lowered his gaze to the water gun in his hand, suddenly feeling it was rather superfluous.

Zhao Xing lowered his hand, shook his wrist, and muttered, "Still quite a strain."

At that moment, somebody lifted a phone to record a video, the camera aimed at his earlier hand‑wave motion. The next second, the bullet comments exploded.

【Viewer 1 in the live stream】: Holy shit? Wasn't there just a kid who choked the fire with his hand?

【Viewer 2】: Must be special effects? This angle is definitely photoshopped!

【Viewer 3】: The drone's third‑angle view caught it too! Check the slow‑mo—the fire turned on its own!

【Viewer 4】: This isn't a firefighting drill, it's a Harry Potter combat class!

【Viewer 5】: Are the kids in the Siheyuan really all super‑powered? A couple days ago someone said there was an old lady there who could fix a quantum antenna!

【Viewer 6】: Come on, the Siheyuan is just an old residential area, right?

【Viewer 7】: Then explain how the fire obeys commands? The textbook never says 'left hand draws a dragon, right hand controls fire'.

The video was simulcast on multiple platforms; within ten minutes the topic "Fire Technique Firefighting Drill" shot to the top of the hot‑search list. The comment section boiled over—some claimed AI synthesis, others invoked physical laws to doubt it, and someone dug up a decade‑old news item about a certain country's military testing "soundwave fire extinguishing", insisting it was the same tech.

But no matter how they argued, the footage spoke for itself—an ordinary‑looking teenager, wearing no protective gear and holding no equipment, stood at the fire's edge, raised his hand twice, and the fire obeyed.

The drill's overall commander was a German instructor; he walked up to Zhao Xing with a dark face and asked in Chinese, "Who are you? Who authorized you to intervene in the operation?"

"No one authorized me." Zhao Xing scratched his head, "I saw you couldn't handle it, so I lent a hand."

"Lent a hand?" The instructor's brows knotted into ridges, "Do you know what responsibility you bear for arbitrarily interfering in a multinational joint drill?"

"Oh, then should I turn myself in now?" Zhao Xing pulled a sheet of paper from his backpack, "I happened to write a self‑critique yesterday—for kicking a ball and breaking a window in PE class—but it can serve as well."

The instructor didn't take it; beside him, a Canadian female Team Member couldn't hold back a laugh and whispered, "Chief, the people are rescued, the fire's out—shouldn't we… thank him first?"

The instructor opened his mouth, finally sighed, raised his hand in a salute, and said, "Thanks for your assistance. But next time, please give advance notice."

"All right, next time I'll call ahead." Zhao Xing gave a hehe smile, turned, and was about to walk away.

But just as he stepped forward, a swarm of reporters surged from the perimeter, thrusting their microphones higher than their heads.

"Hey student, are you a special‑ability user?"

"Is this magic?"

"Are you from some secret research institution?"

"Do you have any connection to the other "special individuals" in the Siheyuan?"

Zhao Xing found himself surrounded, feeling a bit dazed. He instinctively stepped back, only to bump into a fire Team Leader wearing a dark‑blue uniform. Without a word, the man extended an arm, shoved Zhao Xing behind him, and waved at the reporters: "Make way, make way—he's a minor, no interviews."

Security personnel also rushed over, grabbing him in a scramble and escorting him out through the side door.

A white minivan pulled up behind, its door slid open, and the driver poked his head out: "Zhao Xing? Hop in."

Zhao Xing slipped inside; the door slammed shut, cutting off the outside clamor. The vehicle started up and slowly pulled away from the training ground.

He sat in the back, finally exhaling, and looked out the window. Distant city skyscrapers glowed with lights, like rows of rods stuck in the ground. The half‑moon above cast a silver sheen on the road.

He felt his uniform pocket; inside was still half an uneaten sugar biscuit his mother had slipped him that morning. He took a bite, and it crackled as he chewed.

The car rode smoothly; the radio played the evening news, the announcer speaking clearly: "This afternoon, during the International firefighting joint exercise, an unexpected incident occurred—a nameless teenager allegedly controlled the fire by unconventional means, and the related video is sparking heated discussion online……"

Zhao Xing listened, saying nothing, just cranked the car window down a notch. Night wind blew in, carrying a hint of burnt smell, perhaps drifting from the drill site.

He gazed at a tree‑shadow flashing by the roadside and thought: If I'm late for morning self‑study tomorrow, could I say it's because I 'saved the simulated fire scene'?

The car turned onto the main road, the red light ahead lit up, and it eased to a stop.

Opposite the intersection, a convenience store's TV hung above the door, endlessly replaying that clip—the moment he raised his hand, the flames twisted and shifted, while bullet comments flooded the entire screen.

【Latest bullet comment】: Are the kids in the Siheyuan all super‑powered? Is the next one going to fly?

Zhao Xing watched, the corner of his mouth twitching.

The green light came on, and the car moved forward.

He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes for a moment.

His fingers unconsciously traced a circle on his knee, as if mimicking the fire‑controlling motion he'd just made.

The wheels rolled over the seam in the road surface, sending a faint vibration.