The child of a strict, if loving, Chinese-American family in San Francisco's chinatown, Soloman grew up wanting for little - except affection. His father was an immigrant from Taiwan; his mother, a second-generation immigrant from Shanghai. Together, they ran a grocery, and Soloman grew up helping with the books. When it was clear what a head for numbers he had, his parents pooled their assets, and paid for his way into USC for business courses - his father had dreams of his son opening up a chain of stores, or rising to an executive role in some company - nevermind the fact that Soloman just wanted to run their little grocery.

When he got to school, he found, quickly, that it was not for him; he found the classes stifling, the lectures pointless and boring, and the other students hopelessly... stupid.

He dropped out during his sophomore year. Unable to take the shame of telling his parents he had failed them, he moved to LA, trying to find some way to earn the college money they had spent - and wasted - on him back.

He moved into a new apartment - if it could be called that, a tiny two-room loft above a bakery, with a bathroom shared with other lodgers at the end of the hall. Still, it was cheap, and the bakery downstairs was always throwing out it's day-old bread; a little flirting with the girl behind the counter (no small task for the young man) ensured he would, at the very least, not starve.

He picked up odd jobs wherever he could find them; he worked the night shift at a gas station down the road, and spent his days tutoring students at the nearby community college in remedial algebra or basic economics. On sundays, he helped the baker downstairs with his books; all together, he barely slept five hours a night, and was barely making ends meet - especially trying as he did to put aside money to pay back his parents.

And then, one monday morning, he looked out his window... and saw Mei.

He was, from the first moment he laid eyes on her, in love - or so he thought. He made a point to watch out his window for her again, and saw her often walking to and from the narrow side street a block away. One winter night, he decided to follow her, to introduce himself, to maybe ask her to... well, he didn't know what. He simply knew he wanted to meet her.

He almost caught up to her on the street, and saw her duck into a tea house - one he had never noticed before, hidden as it was behind the rush of the main road. The next night, he went in - and every night after that, before work. He always had simple, hot, green tea, the only thing he could afford, and spent what time he could working up the courage to speak to Mei.

When, one night, he found himself there a bit later than usual, he finally met the owner of the establishment - and he was blown away. For all that Mei had enraptured him, this woman - this Vivian - was like no one he had ever met before; what's more, despite his attraction to her beauty, and his fear of her... strangeness, he found her easier and easier to talk to.

Realizing what a head for business this young man had, Vivian told him, right out, to quit his job at the gas station, and to move his tutoring into the evening - she wanted him working for her, and would brook no argument. After she made it clear how much she was going to pay him, he had no argument to give.

Thus began his employment at the tea house. Vivian remains the only woman there that he can speak with without stammering; though Mei has warmed up to him well enough, Jun has caught the way he looks at her adopted sister - and she doesn't like the thought of them together one bit. Jun is cordial, but makes a point to always be between the two, when she can do so unobtrusively.