After paying the bill, Ahn Hae and Leo left the restaurant. Perhaps because she had been in the warmth for too long, Ahn Hae had completely forgotten about the cold waiting outside.
The moment she stepped out, a sharp chill cut through her skin, making her shrink back. It was only then that she remembered—she had absentmindedly left her coat at work.
Seeing her rubbing her arms for warmth, Leo immediately took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
"It's late. Let me take you home."
The sudden act of kindness caught Ahn Hae off guard, making her face heat up despite the freezing air around her. Leo's scent still lingered on the coat—warm cedarwood, a hint of fresh mint, mixed with the natural warmth of his body. Her cheeks burned even hotter.
But when her gaze fell on the thin hoodie Leo was wearing, she hesitated and quickly returned the coat to him.
"I'm fine. You should wear it instead."
At that exact moment, Ahn Hae's body betrayed her with a sudden sneeze.
Leo chuckled, shaking his head.
"Don't be stubborn. Be good, okay?"
He placed the coat back on her shoulders—this time, more neatly, more carefully.
"Just let me keep my image a little, will you?" he pleaded playfully.
Ahn Hae bit her lip, about to argue, but stopped. If a photo of Leo wrapped up warmly while his fan shivered beside him made it online, antis would surely have a field day. Thinking of that, she reluctantly accepted the coat. Seeing her finally give in, Leo smiled in satisfaction, a strange warmth filling his heart.
They both got into Leo's private car. It was late at night, the streets quiet, with streetlights casting long, dim streaks of light on the windshield. The car was silent, except for the gentle hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of their breathing.
Out of habit, Ahn Hae took out her phone to check the time, unintentionally revealing her lock screen to Leo.
Leo froze for a moment.
So… it wasn't a picture of him.
Instead, it was a photo of a five-member family—an ordinary snapshot, but full of warmth.
"Is that your family?"
The question slipped out before Leo could stop himself. He hadn't meant to ask, but curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to know more about her. Everything about her.
Was that… normal?
"Yes!"
Leo found himself drawn into the deep affection shining in her dark eyes. It was like a rushing tide, sweeping away his thoughts and senses. A pure, warm, and complete kind of love—one that… made him jealous.
His heart trembled slightly.
"I thought I'd see a picture of me on your phone," he teased, trying to push away the unfamiliar emotions creeping into his chest.
His words hit Ahn Hae's guilty conscience like an arrow. She stiffened, flustered, and hurriedly shoved her phone into her tote bag. Thank god she hadn't unlocked it just now—if she had, Leo's shirtless six-pack photo would've been on full display. No hole in the ground would be deep enough for her to crawl into.
"Haha… As if…"
Seeing her flustered reaction, Leo found it amusing but decided not to tease her further. He cleared his throat and switched topics.
"Besides our music, what other genres do you listen to?"
Ahn Hae sighed in relief at the change of subject and quickly answered.
"Not much, really. I listen based on my mood, so aside from your songs, I mostly listen to Vietnamese music."
That immediately piqued the interest of a music enthusiast like Leo.
"I've come across some V-pop songs trending on TikTok. The melodies are nice, even though I don't understand the lyrics."
Ahn Hae stiffened. The songs that go viral on TikTok were mostly remixes or meme tracks—lyrics often didn't hold much meaning. No way was she exposing Leo to that side of Vietnamese music.
"Those aren't really my taste, so I don't know much about them…"
"Then what is your taste?" Leo rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head toward her with an expectant gaze.
Ahn Hae thought for a moment. Her music preferences were all over the place, mostly guided by emotion. But if she had to pick one song that was deep and carried a strong national identity, there was only one choice.
Thinking of it, she excitedly searched on her phone—being extra careful not to reveal her lock screen to Leo.
A moment later, she handed him a wireless earbud. Leo quickly put it in, and a slow, soulful guitar melody played into his ears. A woman's high-pitched voice, tinged with experience and longing, followed.
"How many years have passed, yet I keep wandering.Going in circles, making life weary.On my shoulders, the sun and the moon.Shining endlessly for a hundred years, a place to return."
Leo had no idea what the lyrics meant, but the singer's voice, paired with the lingering guitar notes, made him feel melancholic and lost. It was as if he was standing before a mirror, staring into the reflection of his soul, asking, "Who am I? Who is the real me?"
When the song ended, Leo remained dazed, unable to shake the emotions it had stirred. He instinctively turned to Ahn Hae.
"Can you explain the lyrics to me?"
Ahn Hae smiled, as if she had already expected that question. Slowly, she translated each line, helping Leo grasp the meaning and the message the late musician Trịnh Công Sơn had poured into the song.
"He even created his own music genre. People call it Nhạc Trịnh—Trịnh Music."
As a musician himself, Leo was intrigued by this man.
More than that, seeing the sparkle in Ahn Hae's eyes, he wanted to listen to more.
And so, Ahn Hae launched into a passionate explanation, like a full-blown lecture. She told him about Trịnh Công Sơn's life, his muses, Diễm Xưa, Huyền Thoại Mẹ, about the historic victory in Nối Vòng Tay Lớn…
Leo listened to every word, not missing a single detail.
But what captivated him wasn't just the story of Trịnh Công Sơn—it was Ahn Hae herself.
At this moment, she was glowing so brightly… she nearly blinded him.
"Damn, my knowledge of V-pop is seriously lacking."
Leo sighed when she finally finished. He had never truly explored Vietnamese music.
But maybe, after tonight, he would.
And without realizing it, he now wanted to know more—not just about Nhạc Trịnh, but about the girl sitting beside him.
* * *