Shivering in the biting wind, I was desperate. The snowstorm had been raging on for over a week.

A persistent fever had struck me a couple of days before. My temperature was still on by the time I exited the clinic. A boarder, I had not been accompanied by anyone on the visit to the doctor’s office. I felt totally abandoned in the deserted street on this freezing night.

I had bundled myself up from head to toe. With my hooded winter school uniform, mask and gloves on, I did not feel very cold. However, I was famished after the painfully long hours of treatment at the surgery. It struck me that I had not eaten dinner yet. There are a lot of restaurants on Jiangsu Road, but I wondered how many of them would stay open in such hellish weather.

Pulling my left boot out of a snowbank, I stepped out. Before my right foot sank too deep, I pulled it out and managed another step. Step by step, I ventured down the road.

My worst prophecy fulfilled, all the eating places in sight were closed. Only the street lamps were giving off pale rays through dancing flakes. As frustrated as I was, I did not want to quit. A sudden pang of hunger shot through me. The desire for a hot meal compelled me to explore further.

Another 100 metres down the road, a glow of orange light came into view. There, steam going up, the door was ajar, as if beckoning customers to enter. Oh, it was a noodles diner. Overjoyed, I dragged myself across the road and made for the entrance.

I pushed fully open the door. The owner of the restaurant and his wife were still busy, but no other customer was found on the premises.

“Yes? Come on in, boy. You must be a YYHS student. What would you like to order?” the owner greeted me, while welcoming me in. Too exhausted to respond, I managed a weak smile. “How about beef noodles without pepper? Is that OK?” he went on.

I nodded as I stepped in, leaving the door partly open. “Seat yourself, boy. I’ll fetch you a soup first,” the man said warmly.

Presently a bowl of soup was laid in front of me on the table. “Soup is free. Enjoy it, boy,” the man reminded me. Then he retreated into the kitchen.

Driven by ravening hunger, I could hardly wait to have a sip of the steaming soup. One spoon after another, warmth refilled my existence and my hollow heart. I was savouring the soup when the noodles were served.

The owner seeing me devouring the meal, slurping the soup, surprise flashed across his face, but he did not ask any questions. He simply added that I could get more soup if I liked.

Vapour rose from the bowl, wafting its way up to the ceiling. This was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, on a frigid snowy winter night.