Winter's Little Warmth

The first snow in Queens came without warning. At five in the morning, Lin Mo was jolted awake by the rustling on the auto shop's tin roof. He climbed up and peered out the window, only to find the world outside already blanketed in white. The plane tree branches were wrapped in snow like twigs covered in cotton candy, the fire hydrant on the corner wore a snowy mushroom cap, and even the usually filthy trash cans had become adorably round.

"Woof!" Shield crawled out of his doghouse, shook his fluffy coat, and ran to the door. He pressed his nose against the glass and breathed on it, leaving a crooked paw print. The stray dog was now built like a little calf, his golden fur especially thick in winter, and when he ran, he looked like a rolling ball of fluff.

Lin Mo smiled and opened the door. Cold wind swept in with flecks of snow, carrying a crisp scent. He hugged his arms, then turned and rummaged through the storage room for an old iron stove—one Carlos had discarded because it produced too much smoke when burned. Lin Mo had treasured it anyway, and today it finally came in handy.

Getting the stove going took some effort. The damp firewood kept belching black smoke, making him cough nonstop. Shield sat nearby with his head tilted, his tail scattering snow grains across the floor. Once the flames finally licked at the logs, orange-red light illuminated half the garage. Only then did Lin Mo straighten up and rub his reddened hands. The iron stove quickly heated up, making even the nearby toolbox hot to the touch, while the air filled with the smoky fragrance of burning wood.

A little after seven, Aunt May pushed open the auto shop door with snow covering her hair. She carried a thermos. "Little Lin, you haven't frozen, have you? I knew this dump of yours didn't have heating." She set the thermos beside the stove and opened it. The rich scent of steaming cocoa instantly spread through the room. "Just made it. I added marshmallows."

"Thanks, Aunt May." Lin Mo took the cup. The hot cocoa was perfectly sweet, and warmth flowed down his throat into his stomach, warming his whole body.

"You got this stove going just in time." Aunt May brushed the snow off herself. "The heating at the community center broke down. Those old folks are shivering from the cold, so I told them to come here and warm themselves." She pointed outside. "And here they come."

Lin Mo stuck his head out and saw Grandma Gretchen approaching on her cane, supported by two other elderly women. She was bundled up like a rice dumpling, with snow still clinging to her scarf. He quickly moved the stove toward the center to make more room. "Come in, please. It's cold outside."

The old ladies flooded in, filling the garage to the brim. Grandma Gretchen sat beside the stove, took off her gloves, and rubbed her purplish hands. "It's still warmer at Little Lin's place. That rotten heating system at the community center has been under repair for three days and still isn't fixed. I think they're deliberately making things difficult for us old people."

"Exactly," Mrs. Walker said as she accepted cocoa from Aunt May. "They talked a good game when they collected the property fees, promising heating all winter. Now look at this—the snow's coming down so hard, and the heating's gone out."

Lin Mo refilled their cocoa, then squatted in the corner to work on the transmission he had not finished repairing yesterday. Light from the iron stove fell across the gears, giving them a warm sheen. Physical Enhancement kept his fingers nimble despite the cold, and the dismantled parts were arranged in neat rows like soldiers standing at attention.

"Little Lin's skills are really something," Grandma Gretchen said with a smile as she watched him work. "He's far more capable than my useless grandson. Ask him to fix a faucet, and he'll somehow smash the water pipe."

"Isn't your grandson a firefighter?" Aunt May chimed in.

"He is. All he knows is how to carry ladders and climb buildings. He can't even replace a light bulb in his own house properly." The old woman sighed, then turned to Lin Mo. "Little Lin, do you have a girlfriend? My neighbor's granddaughter..."

Lin Mo smiled and waved his hand. "Grandma, let me finish fixing the car first."

Just then, Grandma Martha burst in covered in snow, her cane thumping against the floor. "Those politicians! All they know is how to shout nonsense!" She slapped the newspaper in her hand onto the table. Its headline read: "Municipal Heating System Renovation Delayed, Citizens Freeze Through Winter." "I made three complaint calls, and every one was just an automated recording. Those good-for-nothings!"

"Say less. It's not worth getting yourself worked up." Aunt May handed her a cup of hot cocoa. "Come warm yourself by the fire. It's nice and warm at Little Lin's."

Martha accepted the cup and sat beside the stove, but she did not drink. She simply stared at the flames in a daze. After a while, she pulled a pair of knitting needles and a ball of dark blue yarn from her cloth bag, then began knitting with a clatter. She continued muttering, "Little Lin is the practical sort. Not like those people—talk better than they sing, but never do a single useful thing."

Lin Mo pretended not to hear her, his wrench spinning rapidly in his hand. He knew Martha was only venting. The old woman had a sharp tongue but a soft heart; just yesterday, she had braved the snow to bring dumplings to Mrs. Walker, who lived alone.

After nine, the auto shop door opened again. This time, Ted came in wrapped in a down jacket obviously several sizes too large, with snow stuck to the fur trim of his hood. "Mo! The snow's gone crazy outside! I just came back from the park, and the snowmen there are piled higher than Carlos!" He froze when he saw the room full of old ladies, then immediately greeted them with a grin. "Hello, grandmas! I brought roasted chestnuts!"

He poured a bag of hot chestnuts onto the table. Their fragrance mingled with the cocoa and smoky wood scent, brewing a strange, sweet warmth inside the garage. The old ladies immediately gathered around, peeling and eating them one after another. Grandma Gretchen even stuffed a handful into Lin Mo's hand. "Eat them while they're hot. They're sweet."

When Peter arrived at noon, he had a huge backpack on his back, and his glasses were fogged over. "Brother Lin Mo, Aunt May said you had a stove here." He set down his backpack and pulled out a thermos of hot soup. "My mom asked me to bring this. Borscht. She said it would warm everyone up."

"Perfect. I haven't eaten yet." Lin Mo took the thermos and opened the lid. The rich scent of beets hit him immediately. Meanwhile, Martha pulled Peter over beside the stove to watch her knit. "Peter, you're getting sturdier by the day. Last time I saw you, you weren't even as tall as me."

"Hello, Mrs. Martha." Peter scratched his head shyly, though his eyes drifted toward the transmission in Lin Mo's hands. "Brother Lin Mo, could you look at this..." He took a little metal device from his backpack. It looked like a Mechanical Spider, with legs made of springs. "It can crawl over snow, but it keeps slipping."

"Let me see." Lin Mo set down his soup bowl and took the Mechanical Spider. It was far more refined than the last one he had seen, with a small wheel installed beneath its abdomen. Peter had clearly improved it. Lin Mo flicked the spring legs with his fingers. "The angle is wrong. Bend them another fifteen degrees to increase friction."

Peter's eyes lit up. He immediately pulled out tools from his backpack and began modifying it, muttering as he worked. "Right, the coefficient of friction for snow is 0.05, even lower than glass. It really needs a larger contact area..."

The old ladies watched him work and teased him with smiles. "This kid is just like Little Lin. Such clever hands."

At two in the afternoon, the snow came down even harder. The world outside was a vast expanse of white, and even the grocery store across the street could no longer be seen. Lin Mo was helping Mrs. Walker fix her grandson's toy car when he suddenly heard movement at the entrance. Looking up, he saw Phil Coulson.

The man wore a dark overcoat, with a thin layer of snow on his hat. He carried a toolbox and visibly paused at the sight of the room full of people. "It seems I came at a bad time."

"Mr. Coulson?" Lin Mo was a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Passing by. My car was slipping a little, and I wanted to borrow some snow chains." Coulson's gaze swept over the iron stove, then fell on the chestnut shells and balls of yarn scattered around the floor. The corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. "It seems lively here."

"Come in and warm yourself." Aunt May welcomed him warmly. "The snow outside is so heavy. Have some hot cocoa to warm up."

Coulson did not decline. He took off his coat and hung it on the hook by the door, revealing the shirt beneath. Seeing a pile of unchopped firewood in the corner, he picked up an axe without a word. "I'll split some wood. The stove is almost out of fuel."

Before Lin Mo could stop him, the man had already swung the axe, his movements clean and efficient. "Oh, this young man is strong!" Grandma Gretchen nodded repeatedly as she watched. "He's even more capable than my firefighter grandson."

Coulson smiled but said nothing, simply lowering his head and splitting the wood. The axe struck in a steady rhythm, its thump, thump echoing the sound of snow falling outside. Lin Mo noticed that Coulson's hands quickly turned red and raw, yet he did not stop until the whole pile was neatly split and stacked beside the stove.

"Thank you, young man." Martha handed him a cup of hot cocoa. "Look at your hands. They're all red."

"It's nothing. Good exercise." Coulson took the cup and touched the scalding surface with his fingertips without jerking his hand back as an ordinary person would. He took a sip of cocoa, his eyes falling on the toy car in Lin Mo's hands. "Mr. Lin is quite skilled."

"Just tinkering." Lin Mo handed the repaired toy car to Mrs. Walker. Her grandson had long been anxiously circling around, and the moment he got the car, he pushed it across the floor, giggling happily.

Coulson said nothing more. He simply sat by the stove and quietly drank his cocoa, occasionally listening to the old ladies chat. When they brought up the community heating problem, he only listened in silence and did not comment. Lin Mo found it a little strange, but he did not ask—people from S.H.I.E.L.D. were always like that, mysterious in their movements and impossible to read.

When the snow stopped in the evening, Coulson got up to leave. Before departing, he said to Lin Mo, "The heating at the community center should be repaired tomorrow."

Lin Mo froze for a moment as he watched Coulson's back disappear into the snow. Then he suddenly understood—this man had not been passing by to borrow snow chains at all. He had clearly come to assess the situation. Lin Mo shook his head, his feelings complicated, though he did not dislike it.

The old ladies gradually went home as well. Aunt May cleaned up the cups and plates, while Martha held the half-finished sweater against Lin Mo. "Almost done. Once I knit another sleeve, you'll be able to wear it." The dark blue yarn glowed softly under the lights, and the size was somehow just right.

"For me?" Lin Mo was a little surprised.

"Who else would it be for?" Martha rolled her eyes at him. "You're always wearing that ragged jacket. If you freeze yourself sick, who's going to fix my bicycle?" She stuffed the sweater into Lin Mo's hands. "Try it on already. If it doesn't fit, I'll alter it."

Lin Mo put on the sweater. It was warm in exactly the right way, carrying a faint scent of wool. He watched Martha and Aunt May tidy up, Ted play with Shield, and Peter modify his Mechanical Spider by the stove, and his heart suddenly softened.

The fire in the iron stove gradually diminished, leaving only glowing coals that flickered on and off. Lin Mo added the last piece of wood and watched the flames rise again, illuminating everyone's faces. He thought of his abilities—the convenience of seeing through walls, the strength granted by Physical Enhancement, and the wristband that occasionally gave him prompts. He had always thought those abilities were burdens, the source of trouble. But looking at the scene before him now, he suddenly felt they were not all that important.

Being able to light a stove so frozen neighbors could warm themselves; being able to fix an old lady's grandson's toy car and earn a burst of giggles; being able to wear the sweater Martha knitted and feel the warmth in every stitch; being able to watch Ted's silly grin, Peter's focus, and Aunt May's busyness... These ordinary traces of everyday life made him feel steadier than any powerful ability ever could.

Shield had fallen asleep by his feet, letting out even snores. Lin Mo stroked the dog's head, then looked out the window—the snow had stopped, and the moon was out, making the ground look as though it had been covered in silver foil. In the distance came the sound of snowplows, mixed with laughter from neighboring homes, especially clear in the quiet winter night.

He did not know what ability his next check-in would bring, nor how many more times people from S.H.I.E.L.D. would come, nor when new dangers would emerge in this world. But at this moment, wrapped in the sweater Martha had knitted, watching over the stove as it slowly died out, listening to the breathing around him and the sound of snow outside the window, Lin Mo felt that things were just fine this way.