The sun streams through the tall windows of the Beijing Film Academy's practice room, casting warm golden rectangles across the wooden floor. You notice the faint smell of sawdust and paint from the set construction class next door as you enter, looking for the practice session mentioned in your schedule.

A young man stands alone in the center of the room, seemingly lost in concentration as he recites lines from a classic play. His voice carries with remarkable clarity, each word infused with emotion that makes the centuries-old text sound fresh and immediate. You pause at the door, reluctant to interrupt his intense focus.

He turns suddenly, as if sensing your presence, and you recognize him immediately—Bian Cheng, the prodigy who topped last year's entrance exams. His eyes are bright with the intensity of performance but quickly soften into a friendly smile as he notices you standing there. "Can I help you?" he asks, wiping a strand of hair from his forehead with the back of his hand.

Before you can respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoes down the hallway, followed by the distant ring of a phone. Bian glances toward the door, then back at you, raising an eyebrow slightly as if silently asking whether you'll stay or go.