5: Ah Yan

The morning light filtered through the faded curtains, casting soft patterns across the wooden floor of the small apartment.

The scent of steamed buns lingered faintly in the air as Lin Yue moved around the kitchen in her oversized t-shirt and jeans, plating breakfast for the two of them.

He sat at the small table near the window, sunlight spilling onto his clean white t-shirt and jeans.

The pair of white sneakers she had bought him yesterday looked fresh and new, making him look like a college student instead of someone whose memories were missing.

He was oddly calm, sipping on warm soy milk.

Yueyue placed a bowl of congee in front of him and sat down.

As he began eating, she looked at him and said with a small smile, "Since I don't know your name, I'll just call you Ah Yan for now. Is that okay?"

He looked up, chopsticks paused mid-air.

Then, his lips curved into a gentle smile. "Ah Yan... I like it."

She grinned. "Good. Then you can call me Yueyue... or Lin Yue, either is fine."

"Yueyue," he repeated softly, as if tasting the name.

Her cheeks warmed slightly at the name her heart racing. It sounded good coming from him.

She quickly snapped out.

Damn?!

Lin Yue, he's a man who's lost his memories. What are you thinking about?

She quickly got up and carried their empty bowls to the sink.

She washed them quickly and dried her hands, turning back to find him already standing by the door, slipping on his sneakers.

She picked up her bag, adjusted her coat and together they left the apartment, walking down the cracked pavement lined with small shops and street vendors already shouting prices of fresh produce.

The cold air nipped at their faces, and she tugged her scarf higher.

---

The restaurant wasn't far, nestled between a flower shop and a tea house.

It had a modest glass front with red Chinese characters on the door: Ming Yuan Restaurant.

The scent of sizzling oil and stir-fried noodles drifted into the air.

Inside, a few people were seated here and there, quietly eating noodles or dumplings.

Near the back, a small glass-walled office sat, looking slightly cramped with a desk and a couple of chairs.

She nodded at him and motioned towards it. "That's the place. Go on, I'll wait here."

He nodded and walked in, the door closing softly behind him.

She stood near a potted plant in the waiting area, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

Her eyes followed every waiter that passed, her hands fiddling with the strap of her bag.

Her heart thumped nervously. She didn't want him to be disappointed.

---

Ten minutes later, the door opened, and he walked out.

His face was unreadable.

Her heart sank.

She immediately stepped forward, reaching for his hand. "It's okay, Ah Yan. Don't worry about it. You don't have to work. Just stay at home and rest. You're still recovering. I'll—"

"I got the job," he interrupted softly, lips curling into a smile.

Her eyes widened. "You did? Really? That's amazing!"

He nodded, holding up a folded paper. "They said I'll start in the afternoon."

She felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

She smiled brightly and said, "That's great!"

Without wasting time, she pulled out her phone and dialed her team leader's number.

After a short conversation, her harsh and arrogant leader surprisingly agreed. She hung up and turned to him.

"I took the afternoon off. Let's go shopping," she said cheerfully.

He looked confused. "Shopping?"

She nodded. "You'll be riding the scooter in the cold. You need warm clothes."

They walked to a nearby clothing store—a simple place with puffy jackets hanging from the ceiling and shelves stacked with winter wear.

The saleslady gave them a polite smile.

She picked a dark grey jacket and handed it to him. "Try this."

He stepped into the changing booth and came out looking like someone straight out of a fashion magazine.

The cut of the jacket emphasized his broad shoulders and lean frame.

She blinked in surprise.

"You look... really good. Too good," she muttered.

He tilted his head. "Hmm?"

"Nothing!" she said quickly and turned away.

She handed him another jacket—a black one with fur lining.

"Try this on too."

He tried it on and it fit like it had been tailored just for him.

She bought both jackets, along with a pair of warm gloves and a knitted hat.

The total dented her already thin wallet, but she pushed away the ache.

She wanted him to be warm and comfortable.

She took him in, she should at least make him feel comfortable and at home.

---

After the shopping, they stopped at a small eatery down the street with red lanterns hanging by the entrance.

The interior was cozy, filled with warm lighting, and the scent of hot soup and fried rice.

They sat at a wooden table by the window. She ordered a bowl of beef noodles and he ordered rice with braised pork.

As they waited, she watched the steam rise from the kitchen and the clatter of dishes being washed.

He picked up his chopsticks with practiced ease, and for a moment, she wondered who he had been before waking up in her room.

He ate with a quiet grace, each movement deliberate and refined.

His back was straight, his fingers holding the chopsticks with precise control.

Even as he lifted the simplest dish, there was an elegance about him—as if he'd once belonged to a world far more polished than this.

Who exactly is he?

After they ate, she paid the bill and they stepped outside, the chill wind brushing against their cheeks.

As they were about to turn the corner, a voice rang out behind them—

"Lin Yue?!"

She froze, her entire body stiffening. The voice was familiar.

Slowly, she turned around.

---