"Let's go."
Chen Xu wrapped his scarf around his neck and, shoulder to shoulder with Luo Xiyun, pushed open the door and walked out of the hot pot restaurant.
Before coming to Beijing, he had paid attention to the weather forecast, which mentioned that a cold Siberian air mass might move south in the coming days, so he had brought a thick down jacket and scarf.
As a southerner, he was inherently afraid of the cold.
The hotel wasn't far away, and despite several traffic lights along the way and the busy traffic, they had opted to walk instead of driving. Tonight the wind was blowing, and he had put on his scarf before leaving.
This grey scarf was hand-knitted by his mother. In the past, he thought it looked a bit old-fashioned and never wore it. Recently, he pulled it out from a box, remembered how his mother, despite being busy with work and cooking, had found the time to knit it for him, and felt guilty for ever finding it old-fashioned.
