Chapter 3: Aey Rinlada

“N-No, nothing,” Treephat stammered, her voice trembling slightly, though she couldn’t quite understand why. Her eyes remained fixed on the young woman in front of her, as if spellbound.

The woman simply nodded politely before reaching for the siam si fortune-telling tube nearby. She shook it gently, her movements calm and composed, but in the next moment, the sticks spilled across the floor.

Without hesitation, Treephat bent down to help collect them, and the woman did the same. Then—

Their hands brushed against each other.

The brief contact sent a strange sensation coursing through Treephat’s body—a mix of warmth and unease that made her pause. Startled, she quickly withdrew her hand and apologized.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, offering a small smile.

The woman looked up, her large, expressive eyes meeting Treephat’s. She smiled back. “It’s alright. I’m clumsy like this sometimes. This is my life, Aey. That's just how I am.” she said, her voice light and pleasant.

Treephat returned a faint smile, but her heart was still in turmoil. The name “Aey,” which the woman had casually mentioned, lingered in her mind. She now knew the woman’s nickname but felt unsure how to continue the conversation. The desire to know more about her burned inside Treephat, yet she hesitated, fearing she might come across as odd.

Once they finished picking up the sticks, Treephat stepped outside the temple and paced near the doorway, her thoughts a tangled mess.

Who is she?

Why does she look exactly like the woman from my dreams?

Lost in her questions, Treephat didn’t notice Aey emerging from the temple until she saw her walking past.

Treephat inhaled deeply, gathering every ounce of courage she had. Then, she called out, “Khun Aey...”

Aey stopped in her tracks and turned around. “Yes?”

Her large, doe-like eyes stared at Treephat with curiosity. Treephat felt her words catch in her throat, and all she could manage was a slightly awkward smile as she searched for a way to start the conversation.

Taking another steadying breath, Treephat asked, doing her best to mask her nervousness, “Are you a YouTuber by any chance? You look so familiar—I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Treephat felt like she’d just asked the most ridiculous question imaginable, hoping only to use it as a bridge to start a conversation.

“Oh, no, I’m not. You must have mistaken me for someone else,” Aey replied with a polite smile.

“Oh, I see. My mistake. I’m sorry about that,” Treephat said, scratching her head awkwardly and forcing a faint smile to cover her disappointment. She had no idea how to keep the conversation going.

“It’s alright,” Aey replied, flashing another smile before turning to walk away.

Treephat watched as Aey’s figure grew smaller in the distance, leaving behind a swirl of emotions churning in her chest. She stood frozen for a moment, desperately trying to think of something—anything—that could give her another chance to talk to Aey.

Summoning one final ounce of courage, Treephat stepped forward and called out firmly, “Wait, Khun Aey!”

Aey stopped and turned around, her expression tinged with curiosity. “Yes?”

Treephat took a deep breath, steadying herself, and tried to sound as confident as possible.

“I run a jewelry business,” she began. “My company is about to launch a new collection, and we’re currently looking for models for the photoshoot. You fit the concept perfectly. Would it be possible for me to get your contact information in case we could work together?”

As she finished speaking, Treephat handed Aey her business card.

Aey accepted the card and looked at it briefly, her interest piqued.

.

Treephat Akarawongwatana

Chief Marketing Officer

AKRA Group

.

The name and title stood out clearly on the card

"Thank you. It’s a very interesting opportunity, but after thinking about it, I don’t think I’m suited for this kind of work. I’ll have to decline," Aey said politely, her words accompanied by a courteous smile.

Despite the pleasant tone, the meaning behind them hit Treephat like a heavy blow. Disappointment surged through her, though she managed a faint, awkward smile in return. It felt as though all her efforts had been for nothing.

“That’s alright,” Treephat replied, doing her best to hide her emotions. She watched as Aey excused herself gently, then turned and walked away.

Treephat stood frozen, her eyes fixed on Aey’s retreating figure as though willing her to turn back. But no matter how hard she wished, all she could do was watch. Disappointment crept through her chest, filling her completely.

Why is it so hard just to get to know her?

She took a deep breath, steeling herself to follow after Aey, but before she could take a step, a familiar voice called out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Lin!”

Treephat turned to see Nicha standing a short distance away, her face full of curiosity as she glanced around.

“Who were you talking to?” Nicha asked.

The question made Treephat sigh. She didn’t respond, instead turning her gaze back to where Aey had disappeared.

That’s when her eyes landed on something lying on the ground a few steps ahead—a smartphone.

Treephat quickly bent down to pick it up. When the screen lit up, the wallpaper revealed a picture of the very woman she had just been speaking with.

For a moment, Treephat felt a spark of hope ignite within her chest, a chance she thought had slipped away.

A wide smile spread across her face.

This time, I won’t let it slip through my fingers.

.

.

At the renowned antique shop in Ayutthaya,

Sattaya Antique,

Rinlada Sattayanurak, also known by her nickname, Aey, the shop’s owner, sat on a wooden chair. Her long, dark brown hair framed a sharp, elegant face. Her large, almond-shaped eyes, with light brown irises, complemented her heart-shaped lips, creating a striking and memorable beauty.

With delicate care, Rinlada was cleaning two ancient gold rings. Her hands moved with precision and tenderness, as if handling something irreplaceable. The rings bore such a striking resemblance to each other that they appeared to be a matched pair.

One was adorned with a deep blue sapphire.

The other, with a vibrant red ruby.

These rings, masterpieces from the Ayutthaya era, were priceless heirlooms passed down through generations of the Sattayanurak family—a legacy that now rested in Rinlada’s hands.

…

Today, Rinlada was in an unusually good mood. Perhaps it was because she had spent her morning making merit at the temple. Or perhaps… it was because of the intriguing encounter with a woman who had captured her attention in an inexplicable way. That woman was Treephat Akarawongwatana.

“She’s so beautiful… and dressed like a movie star,” Rinlada murmured to herself, recalling Treephat’s poised figure in the temple.

In Rinlada’s eyes, Treephat was the epitome of elegance. Her strikingly beautiful face was complemented by sharp eyes, a prominent nose, and bold, defined eyebrows that gave her an unforgettable presence. Standing at about 168 cm, nearly the same height as Rinlada, Treephat carried herself with grace. Her refined yet eye-catching fashion sense left a strong impression, making it impossible for Rinlada not to admire her.

As she thought back to the moment their eyes met in the temple, Rinlada felt something peculiar—an inexplicable familiarity, as though she had met Treephat before. But logically, she knew that today was their very first encounter.

“We probably won’t see each other again,” Rinlada muttered softly to herself, glancing at the business card Treephat had handed her. She held it with slight hesitation, her gaze distant as she absentmindedly reached for her phone on the desk. But her hand grasped nothing but air.

A wave of confusion washed over her. Rinlada quickly rummaged through her handbag, but the more she searched, the clearer it became—her phone was missing.

She asked one of the shop assistants for help, requesting them to call her number. But when the call went through, there was no sound on the other end. Her worry began to grow.

Moments later, the shop assistant returned, their tone tinged with excitement. “Khun Aey! Someone answered the call! They said they found your phone.”

Relief flooded through Rinlada at those words. She gave a faint smile, took the phone from the assistant, and spoke into the line without delay.

“Hello, this is Aey. I’m the owner of this phone. May I know where you are? I can come and pick it up from you.”

…

It might have been fate, or perhaps just coincidence, but the person who found Rinlada’s phone turned out to be Treephat. Not only that, Treephat had gone out of her way to return it directly to the shop.

“Thank you so much, Khun Lin, and Khun Nicha, for bringing my phone back,” Rinlada said sincerely, her smile warm and genuine.

“It’s no problem at all. I’m more than happy to help,” Treephat replied, flashing a wide smile. She referred to herself as “Lin,” just as she had introduced herself earlier.

Her eyes wandered around the shop, taking in the antique wooden furniture and vintage collectibles. The atmosphere of Sattaya Antique felt like stepping back in time. Nicha, standing nearby, seemed equally enchanted.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to treat you both to lunch as a thank-you,” Rinlada offered.

“Absolutely!” Nicha agreed immediately, grinning broadly.

“In fact, even if you hadn’t invited her, Lin was planning to ask you to lunch anyway,” Nicha added teasingly. “She couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful and charming you are the whole drive here—about your gorgeous brown eyes, your dazzling smile, and how much she wanted to get to know you better.”

“Nicha…” Treephat hissed through gritted teeth, her face flushing red. She tried to maintain her composure, but her embarrassment was plain to see. Rinlada, catching her playful tone, smiled subtly, amused by the exchange.

To change the subject, Treephat quickly asked, “How long have you been in the antique business, Khun Aey?”

“For quite some time,” Rinlada replied with a gentle smile. “Sattaya Antique has been passed down since my grandfather’s time.”

“My grandfather was an avid collector,” she continued, her tone filled with pride. “He traveled far and wide to find rare antiques for the shop. Most of the items here date back to the Ayutthaya era.”

Treephat listened attentively, but her eyes were soon drawn to something in the intricately carved wooden display case in the center of the shop. Inside were two gold rings, prominently showcased.

The rings were so stunning they seemed to exert a magnetic pull. Treephat found herself stepping closer, unable to resist. A strange sense of familiarity washed over her—not just admiration for their beauty but a deep, inexplicable connection.

At the same time, an unshakable sadness crept into her heart.

“These rings…” Treephat murmured, almost entranced.

“They’re ancient gold rings from the late Ayutthaya period,” Rinlada explained effortlessly. “One is adorned with a deep blue sapphire, and the other with a vibrant red ruby.”

“They’re exquisite. You can tell they must hold great significance,” Treephat remarked, her voice full of admiration.

“They are,” Rinlada said, her tone soft. “They’ve been in my family for generations. But I have no idea where they originally came from.”

Treephat continued staring at the rings, her thoughts swirling. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit her, as though something inside her had stirred to life. She raised a hand to her forehead as blurry images began to form in her mind.

.

.

Blurred memories of Phiengwad and La-Orduen began to surface, overlapping with reality, slowly replacing everything Treephat saw before her eyes.

.

.

Within moments, the images in Treephat’s mind became clearer than ever, as if she had been transported back to a distant past. She saw the face of Phiengwad, a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to herself, smiling warmly as she handed a cloth bag to La-Orduen, a woman whose face was identical to Rinlada’s.

La-Orduen accepted the bag with delight, but when she opened it and found three gold rings inside, her expression shifted instantly.

“These three rings… Are they gifts from you, P’Phiengwad?” La-Orduen asked, her voice tinged with confusion and curiosity.

Phiengwad smiled softly, her expression gentle but with an enigmatic glint in her eyes. “That’s only half correct,” she replied.

She carefully removed the three gold rings from the bag, her slender, fair hands holding each one delicately. Treephat, watching this vision unfold, found herself unable to look away.

“These three rings were crafted from ancient gold,” Phiengwad explained. “I commissioned my uncle, a master jeweler, to make them. One is adorned with a blue sapphire, another with a red ruby, and the last with a rare antique pearl.”

Picking up the third ring, the one set with the antique pearl, Phiengwad extended it toward La-Orduen. “This one is the most beautiful. It’s adorned with a rare pearl, and I want you to have it, La-Orduen,” she said warmly, her voice brimming with affection as she gently placed the ring on La-Orduen’s finger.

“The second ring, with the blue sapphire, is mine,” Phiengwad continued with a smile.

La-Orduen glanced at the final ring in Phiengwad’s hand, her curiosity growing. “And the last one? Who does it belong to?”

Phiengwad’s smile widened, her expression hinting at a secret she wasn’t yet ready to share.

“…”

Her lips moved as if to answer, but the scene before Treephat suddenly shifted. No sound escaped Phiengwad’s mouth, as if some unseen force deliberately silenced her words, preventing Treephat from hearing the answer.

Treephat stood frozen, consumed by the mystery and the feeling that something vital was being withheld from her.

.

.

"The truth is, this set originally had three rings," Rinlada’s voice pulled Treephat out of the reverie of her past-life vision, grounding her once again in the present.

"But I have no idea where the third ring is, what it looks like, or who might possess it. Our family has only passed down these two gold rings," Rinlada said with a polite smile.

Treephat’s gaze remained fixed on the two rings in the display case, as if they had a magnetic hold on her. Their exquisite craftsmanship and timeless beauty sent a strange rhythm coursing through her heart, as though they were trying to convey something to her.

“These two rings aren’t for sale, though,” Rinlada explained kindly. “They’re family heirlooms of the Sattayanurak family and must be preserved. But if you’re interested, our shop has other antique rings with similar designs over there,” she added, gesturing to another display case with a warm smile.

Treephat, however, didn’t move. Her eyes were still locked on the two golden rings, and an unsettling image began to take shape in her mind. Rinlada’s face seemed to blend with that of La-Orduen, the woman from her recurring dreams.

Nicha, noticing Treephat’s unusual silence, nudged her gently and waved a hand in front of her face. Treephat startled slightly, as if shaken from another world.

“Khun Aey said that if you’re interested in rings with a similar design, they’re in the case over there,” Nicha said, pointing to the display.

Treephat nodded and managed a small smile, but her thoughts were still in turmoil. An inexplicable feeling gnawed at her, a sense that something significant was unfolding. She hadn’t told Nicha that Rinlada’s face was identical to the woman who had haunted her dreams for so long.

What troubled her even more were the vivid images of a past life that had surfaced the moment she saw the two rings. Those memories, though they shouldn’t exist, felt unnervingly real.

.

.

What if the scenes she had seen were not mere illusions, but fragments of something that had actually happened?

Could it mean that Rinlada, herself, and these three ancient gold rings were connected in a past life?

If in that past life Rinlada was La-Orduen, the owner of the ring adorned with the antique pearl, and she was Phiengwad, the owner of the ring with the blue sapphire… then who was the owner of the final ring, the one adorned with the red ruby?

That question echoed in Treephat’s mind, refusing to fade. Yet, deep within her, something whispered that her assumptions were incomplete, that she was still missing a critical piece of the puzzle.

Perhaps Rinlada wasn’t truly the same as La-Orduen.

…