The first snow in Queens came without warning. At five in the morning, Lin Mo was jolted awake by the rustling on the metal roof of the repair shop. He crawled out of bed and peered through the window, only to find the outside world already blanketed in white. The sycamore branches were wrapped in snow like trees studded with cotton candy, the fire hydrant on the corner wore a snow mushroom on its head, and even the usually grimy trash cans had become adorably round.
"Woof!" Shield crawled out of his doghouse, shook out his fluffy coat, and ran to the door. He pressed his nose against the glass and breathed onto it, leaving a crooked paw print. The stray dog had grown as sturdy as a little calf by now. His golden fur had become especially thick in winter, and when he ran, he looked like a rolling ball of fluff.
Lin Mo smiled and opened the door. A gust of cold wind swept in with snowflakes, carrying a crisp chill. He hugged his arms and turned to dig an old iron stove out of the storage room. Carlos had discarded it, saying it produced too much smoke when burned, but Lin Mo had treasured it. It was finally coming in handy today.
Getting the stove going took some effort. The damp firewood kept producing black smoke, making him cough nonstop. Shield sat nearby with his head cocked, his tail sweeping snow grains across the floor. Once the flames finally caught the kindling, an orange-red glow lit up half the garage. Only then did Lin Mo straighten up and rub his reddened, frozen hands. The metal stove quickly heated up, making even the nearby toolbox hot to the touch as the air filled with the charred fragrance of burning wood.
A little after seven, Aunt May pushed open the repair shop door with snowflakes in her hair, carrying a thermos. "Little Lin, you're not freezing, are 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 at just the right time." Aunt May brushed the snow from 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 by your fire." She pointed outside. "And here they come now."
Lin Mo poked his head out and saw Grandma Gretchen making her way over on a cane, supported by two elderly women. She was bundled up like a rice dumpling, with snow still clinging to her scarf. He quickly moved the stove toward the middle to make more room. "Come in, quickly. It's cold outside."
The elderly women crowded in, filling the garage to the brim. Grandma Gretchen sat beside the stove, removed her gloves, and rubbed her hands, which had turned purple from the cold. "It's warmer at Little Lin's place. That lousy heating at the Community Center has been under repair for three days and still isn't fixed. I think they're deliberately tormenting old folks like us."
"Isn't that the truth?" Mrs. Walker accepted the cocoa Aunt May handed her. "When they collected the property fees last time, they made it sound so nice, promising heating all winter. And now? The snow is coming down this hard, and the heating has gone out."
Lin Mo refilled their hot cocoa, then crouched in the corner to work on the transmission he had not finished repairing yesterday. The light from the metal stove fell across the gears, giving them a warm sheen. Physical Enhancement kept his fingers nimble even in the cold. The removed parts were laid out in perfect order, like soldiers in formation.
"Little Lin's skills really are something." Grandma Gretchen watched him work with a smile. "He's much better than my useless grandson. Ask him to fix a faucet, and he'll somehow smash a hole in the water pipe."
"Isn't your grandson in the fire department?" Aunt May chimed in.
"Yes, he spends all day carrying ladders and climbing buildings, but he can't even change a lightbulb in his own home properly." The old woman sighed, then turned back 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, old Martha stormed in covered in snow, her cane thudding against the floor. "Those politicians! All they know is how to shout nonsense!" She slapped the newspaper in her hand onto the table. The front-page headline read: "Municipal Heating System Renovation Delayed, Citizens Suffer Through Frigid Winter." "I made three complaint calls, and every single one was an automated message. Those useless freeloaders!"
"Say less. It's not worth getting yourself upset." Aunt May handed her a cup of hot cocoa. "Come warm yourself by the fire. It's nice and warm here at Little Lin's."
Martha accepted the cup and sat beside the stove, but she did not drink. She only stared blankly at the flames. After a while, she took a pair of knitting needles and a ball of dark blue yarn from her cloth bag and began knitting with a rapid clatter. She kept muttering, "Little Lin is still more reliable than those people. They talk better than they sing, but they never do a single practical thing."
Lin Mo pretended not to hear and spun the wrench in his hand at high speed. He knew Martha was only speaking in anger. 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.
A little after nine, the repair shop door opened again. This time it was Ted, wrapped in a down jacket several sizes too large, with snow stuck to the fur trim on his hood. "Mo! The snow outside is insane! 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 elderly women, then immediately greeted them with a grin. "Hello, grandmas! I brought roasted chestnuts!"
He poured a bag of piping-hot chestnuts onto the table. Their aroma mingled with the cocoa and the charred scent of wood, brewing a strange and wonderful sweetness in the garage. The elderly women 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 covered in fog. "Brother Lin Mo, Aunt May said you had a stove here." He set down his backpack and pulled out a thermos filled with 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 accepted the thermos and opened the lid. A rich beet aroma rushed out. Meanwhile, Martha pulled Peter over beside the stove to watch her knit. "Peter, you're getting sturdier and sturdier. Last time I saw you, you weren't even as tall as me."
"Hello, Mrs. Martha." Peter scratched his head awkwardly, but his gaze drifted toward the transmission in Lin Mo's hands. "Brother Lin Mo, look at this..." He pulled a small metal contraption from his backpack. It looked like a Mechanical Spider, with legs made from 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 much more refined than the last one he had seen, and there was even a small wheel installed on its abdomen. It had clearly been improved. He flicked its spring legs with a finger. "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, snow's coefficient of friction is 0.05, even lower than glass. It really does need a larger contact area..."
The elderly women watched him busily work and teased him with smiles. "This child is just like Little Lin. Such clever hands."
At two in the afternoon, the snow fell even harder. The outside world was a vast white blur, and even the grocery store across the street could not be seen. Lin Mo was helping Mrs. Walker repair her grandson's toy car when he suddenly heard movement at the door. 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 in one hand, and when he saw the room full of people, he clearly paused. "Looks like I came at a bad time."
"Mr. Coulson?" Lin Mo was a little surprised. "What brings you here?"
"I was passing by. My car was slipping a little, and I wanted to borrow some snow chains." Coulson's gaze swept over the metal stove, then fell on the chestnut shells and balls of yarn scattered across the floor. The corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. "It seems quite lively here."
"Come in and warm yourself by the fire." Aunt May greeted him warmly. "The snow is coming down so hard outside. Have a cup of hot cocoa to warm up."
Coulson did not refuse. He removed his coat and hung it on the hook by the door, revealing the shirt underneath. When he saw the unchopped firewood piled in the corner, he picked up an axe without another word. "I'll chop some wood. The stove is nearly out of fuel."
Lin Mo did not even have time to stop him before the man swung the axe. His movements were crisp 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 chopping wood. The sound of the axe falling had a steady rhythm, its thud, thud echoing the sound of snow falling outside. Lin Mo noticed that Coulson's hands quickly turned red from rubbing against the handle, but he did not stop until the pile of firewood had been neatly chopped 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 fine. Good exercise." Coulson took the cup, touching the scalding wall of it with his fingertips without pulling back like an ordinary person would. He took a sip of cocoa, then looked at the toy car in Lin Mo's hands. "Mr. Lin has good skills."
"Just messing around." Lin Mo handed the repaired toy car to Mrs. Walker. Her grandson had already been anxiously pacing in circles. The moment he got the car, he pushed it across the floor and giggled happily.
Coulson said nothing else. He simply sat by the stove and quietly drank cocoa, occasionally listening to the elderly women chat. When the Community Center's heating issue came up, he only listened in silence without commenting. Lin Mo found it a little strange, but he did not ask. S.H.I.E.L.D. people were always like this—mysterious in their movements and impossible to read.
When the snow stopped in the evening, Coulson rose to leave. Before he went, he said to Lin Mo, "The heating at the Community Center should be fixed tomorrow."
Lin Mo froze for a moment as he watched Coulson's back disappear into the snow. Then he suddenly understood. The man had not come by to borrow snow chains at all. He had clearly come to assess the situation. Lin Mo shook his head. His feelings were a little complicated, but he did not dislike it.
The elderly women went home one after another as well. Aunt May cleared away the cups and plates, while Martha held the half-finished sweater up against Lin Mo. "Almost done. Once I knit one more sleeve, you'll be able to wear it." The dark blue yarn gave off a soft glow beneath the lights, and the size was surprisingly 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 lousy jacket. If you freeze and get sick, who'll fix my bicycle?" She stuffed the sweater into Lin Mo's hands. "Put it on and try it. If it doesn't fit, I'll alter it."
Lin Mo put on the sweater. It was perfectly warm and carried a faint woolly scent. He watched Martha and Aunt May tidy things up, Ted play with Shield, and Peter modify his Mechanical Spider by the stove. His heart suddenly softened.
The fire in the metal stove gradually dwindled, leaving only embers flickering on and off. Lin Mo added the final piece of firewood and watched the flames rise again, lighting every face in the room. He thought of his abilities—the convenience of passing through walls, the strength from Physical Enhancement, and the wristband that occasionally gave him prompts. He had always felt those abilities were burdens, sources of trouble. But looking at the scene before him now, they suddenly did not seem all that important.
Being able to light a stove so his frozen neighbors could warm themselves; being able to fix an old woman's grandson's toy car and earn a burst of giggles; being able to wear a sweater Martha had knitted and feel the warmth in every stitch; being able to watch Ted's silly grin, Peter's earnest focus, Aunt May's busy hands... This ordinary warmth of daily life made him feel more at ease than any powerful ability ever could.
Shield had fallen asleep by his feet, letting out steady snores. Lin Mo stroked the little dog's head, then looked out the window. The snow had stopped, and the moon was out, making the snow-covered ground look as though it had been layered with silver foil. In the distance came the sound of snowplows, mingled with laughter from neighboring homes, especially clear in the quiet winter night.
He did not know what ability he would receive at his next check-in. He did not know how many more times S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would come, nor did he know when new dangers would emerge in this world. But at this moment, wrapped in the sweater Martha had knitted, guarding the slowly dying stove, listening to the breathing around him and the sound of snow outside the window, Lin Mo felt that this was just fine.
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