There’s no need to rush to the bustling night market. The rooftop terrace holds the most comfortable and gentle coolness of the summer night. Meeting at the staircase entrance at eight o’clock, he was carrying a blue ice pack and had a thin blanket with star patterns draped over his shoulder. Seeing you arrive, he quickly took your small fan and said, “It’s windy up there, so this one won’t be useful.”
First, follow him up to the rooftop. The stairwell is filled with the aroma of the food from the neighboring house. When you reach the top floor and open the iron door, the cool evening breeze rushes in. He had already set up a folding small table, on which there were freshly cut watermelons, ice-cold soda, and the salt-baked peanuts you love. As soon as you sat down, he handed you a slice of chilled watermelon: “I just brought it from the fridge. The middle part is the sweetest.”
The sky gradually darkened, and stars emerged one by one. He opened the starry sky app on his phone and pointed to the brightest star in the sky and said, “That’s Vega. Look at the smaller one beside it, that’s Altair.” You moved closer to look at the screen of the phone. Suddenly, he wrapped a thin blanket around both of your shoulders. The star patterns on the blanket and the stars in the sky merged together. The fragrance of jasmine from downstairs was carried by the wind. He softly hummed an old love song, and when he sang off-key, you laughed out loud, and he laughed along too, the sound mingling with the wind and sounding soft and gentle.
At around nine o’clock, the distant neon lights came on. You and your friends were lying on the railing, enjoying the night view. He took out two green bean ice pops from the ice bag, and the wrapping paper had just been torn off when it was already giving off a cool breeze. You took a bite, and the icy sweet green bean paste melted in your mouth. Suddenly, he pointed towards the distant fireworks: “Look! Someone is setting off fireworks.” The colorful lights exploded in the night sky, and he turned to look at you, his eyes reflecting the light of the fireworks, brighter than the stars.
It was almost ten o’clock and the wind had become a little cooler. He wrapped the thin blanket tightly around you and said, “Go back home. Don’t catch a cold.” You followed him downstairs, still holding the unfinished popsicle stick in your hand, but your heart was warm inside. The best scenery of summer nights is not the fireworks or the neon lights, but spending the evening with the right person on the rooftop, enjoying the gentle evening breeze and eating watermelons, turning an ordinary night into something sweet stored in your heart.