After the death of his mother, Chan Kai-yuk leaves Guangzhou for Hong Kong in search of his father, a man who abandoned the family and started anew elsewhere. Facing unemployment at a restaurant and an inability to pay his rent, Chan finds himself without a home and suddenly vulnerable to the city’s hard edges. While he sleeps on the streets, a kind gesture from Kam, a chef at the Beloved Community Centre that aims to support people in need, offers him a lifeline. Kam does not just offer shelter; he points Chan toward a possible chance at steady work, but there’s a catch: Chan must first present a proof of address to qualify for a job at the centre.
Desperate for stability, Chan reaches out to Tse Yuen-fan, a middle-aged, childless former singer who lives alone after her most recent tenant moved out. Trust does not come easily to her, and she is initially suspicious of the stranger who appears at her door. The turning point comes when Chan brings her a small, thoughtful gift—a dozen eggs—which convinces her to let him stay as a tenant. Tse’s life is methodical and contained, and she imposes a strict routine on Chan, who gradually learns to navigate the rhythm of her everyday existence. With a fixed address now secured, Chan can begin to build a legitimate life, and he is soon drawn into the Beloved Centre’s work.
At the centre, Chan meets Xiaoyue, a social work intern from Guangzhou, and Fong, a social worker. He becomes part of a food-sharing initiative and begins working under their guidance. Xiaoyue becomes the object of his quiet crush, though he learns that she has her own romantic circumstances. Their professional collaboration deepens as they coordinate efforts to support the community, even as Chan’s personal emotions complicate his focus.
Tse’s sharper wit and practical memory tests take a toll on her, and she undergoes a basic assessment that reveals mild cognitive disorder. At first Chan approaches the diagnosis with a certain detachment, but as Tse’s orientation falters—losing her way while returning home—his sense of responsibility grows. Fearful of how caregiving might upend his life, he temporarily withdraws, leaving Tse to navigate alone. Yet when he witnesses her anxious search for him in the surrounding streets, memories of his own late mother surge back, and he returns to her side. He becomes a steady presence as Tse begins a medical routine intended to slow the progression of her condition.
With Fat’s help, Chan uncovers the hidden thread that connects him to his father and his new family. In a moment of quiet courage, Chan secretly brings his younger stepbrother to an indoor playground and treats him to ice cream, not realizing the boy’s peanut allergy until it’s almost too late. The crisis triggers a harsh confrontation with his father, who, influenced by his new wife, orders Chan to sever ties with the family. Chan leaves the hospital bruised in more ways than one, yet his pain is tempered by Tse’s comforting presence and Xiaoyue’s steadfast support. Tse even asks Chan to call her mother, solidifying a sense of chosen family between them.
As Tse’s condition continues to worsen, she makes a compassionate and symbolic decision: she will name Chan as the inheritor of all her properties, including the flat she once owned, provided he agrees to care for her as if he were her son. The two of them begin to live together as a family unit, with Tse retreating into her long-held love of drawing and Chan taking a new step in his career by starting a job at a restaurant. Their days are now spent balancing care, work, and the fragile hope that comes with aging and memory.
A visit to Beloved reveals a change in Xiaoyue’s life—she has returned to Guangzhou. Her leaving note hints at a deeper backstory: she has admired Chan’s devotion to his mother since they first met in a Guangzhou hospital, though Chan had not recognized her at the time. Xiaoyue’s relationship with her own partner ultimately ends, but she treasures the bonds she built in Hong Kong, especially the warmth and resilience she found in Chan and Tse.
In the end, the story is less about dramatic upheaval and more about the quiet, steady creation of family amid uncertainty. Chan’s loyalty to Tse grows into a restorative form of care, while Tse’s steady presence gives him purpose. The film paints a compassionate portrait of urban life, where strangers become kin, memory shapes present choices, and hope survives through everyday acts of kindness and responsibility.
