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As of January 27, 2026, Bitcoin ($BTC ) is trading around $87,700 - $88,600 (With a live price of $88,300 at the time of writing) showing signs of consolidation after recent volatility. The cryptocurrency has been under pressure from macroeconomic factors, geopolitical tensions (such as U.S.-Iran issues), and market rotations away from risk assets. This has led to a choppy trading environment, with BTC struggling to reclaim higher levels like $90,000 while defending key supports. Short-Term Price Movement (1-30 D
"Overlord of Heaven" Extra: Burning Sun
【One】
In the seventh year after the fire fell from the sky, in a tea shed at the foot of Cangwu Mountain, the storyteller struck the awakening block.
"…That day, the black-clad swordsman shattered the Southern Heaven Gate, and the Heavenly Dao stele was cracked into nine thousand fissures! The Jade Emperor asked: ‘You rebels against Heaven, do you know what Heaven truly is?’ Guess what the swordsman said?"
In the corner of the tea shed, a man wrapped in a gray cloak put down three copper coins.
"He said—" the storyteller elongated his tone.
"If Heaven is unkind," the gray cloak suddenly interrupted, his voice hoarse as a whetstone, "then let’s change this sky."
The hall fell silent. The storyteller froze: "Honored guest, how do you know…"
The man lifted his hat brim, his right eye covered with a dark iron eye patch, but his left eye burned with a star-ash-like glow deep within. On the table, a long cloth-wrapped object seeped dark red, like blood that could never be wiped clean.
"Because I have seen him," the man drank his coarse tea, "and I have seen Heaven weep."
Suddenly, a fierce wind rose outside the tea shed, and the character "Tea" on the banner split in two. Passersby exclaimed and fled—cloud vortices spun in the air, and a phantom of golden armor flickered faintly.
"Patrol Heaven Division!" the storyteller collapsed to the ground, "They’re here again to capture the remnants of those who rebelled against Heaven…"
But the man in the gray cloak smiled. He slowly untied the cloth, revealing not a sword or a blade, but a charred peach wood branch, with a tender pink peach blossom blooming at its tip.
"It's been seven years," he whispered, "but they still fear that fire will never burn out."