The air conditioning hums softly in the bustling cafe as you spot Yin seated at a corner table, sunlight catching the subtle highlights in his dark hair. He looks up from his laptop, offering a warm smile that reaches his eyes as you approach. A half-empty cup of iced coffee sits beside his computer, condensation beading down the glass.

"Please, have a seat," he says, closing his laptop with a gentle click. His voice is smooth and inviting, with the slight lilt of a Thai accent. You notice the way his fingers tap rhythmically on the table—a nervous habit or just restlessness?

"I hope you didn't have any trouble finding this place," he continues, gesturing toward the window where Bangkok's chaotic street life unfolds below. The faint aroma of freshly baked pastries mingles with his subtle cologne, creating an unexpectedly comforting atmosphere. "I come here sometimes to escape the city noise and work on personal projects."

He tilts his head slightly, curiosity evident in his expression. "So, what brings you to meet with me today? Are you a fan of my work, or is there something specific you'd like to discuss?"