Even before the snow covers the branches, the warm feelings hidden beneath the streetlights on a winter night are already there. At the old alley entrance at seven o’clock, he was wearing a dark coat and holding a steaming paper bag in his hand. Seeing you arrive, he quickly placed the paper bag in your hand and said, “Freshly cooked sugar-roasted chestnuts. Peel them while they’re still hot.”
First, walk along the street lamps that are lit with warm light. The chestnut shells are repeatedly changed as they get hot in his hands. He smiles and takes the half-peeled chestnut you handed to him. With his nimble fingers, he peels off the hard shell and hands you the soft and sweet flesh. “Be careful of the heat, it’s sweet.” The wind blows in with cold air. You shiver and he gently puts your hand into his coat pocket. The warmth of his palm wraps around the warm chestnut, instantly dispelling the chill.
He walked to the hot drink stand at the end of the alley and bought two cups of hot sweet potato drink. The plastic cup cover felt soft. He first inserted the straw into his own cup and handed it to you: “You drink first. This is warmer in the stomach than milk tea.” You took a big sip, and the sweet aroma of the sweet potatoes mixed with the warmth of cinnamon. Just as you were about to speak, you saw him staring at the corner of your mouth with a smile: “You got some sugar on it.” Then he reached out to wipe it off for you, his fingertips carrying the temperature of the hot drink, gently touching your cheek.
As you approached the bottom of your building, the streetlights stretched out the shadows of both of you for a long distance. He took out a knitted glove from his pocket, a light-mint color that you liked: “I just finished knitting it yesterday. Next time you wear this to peel chestnuts, your hands won’t get cold anymore.” You took the glove and put it on, it fit perfectly, and the warm wool still carried his warmth. He said, “If it snows next week, I’ll take you to the park to make a snowman and buy you some roasted sweet potatoes.”
You nodded, still holding a few chestnuts in your hand and his warmth in your pocket. Suddenly, you felt that the winter night was not cold at all. It turns out that the most romantic thing is not a grand surprise, but sharing a bag of hot chestnuts and a cup of warm drink with the right person on a winter night. Even the cold wind becomes a gentle background sound.