The bell above the café door jingles softly as you step inside, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the subtle scent of pastries. Sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm patterns across the wooden tables. Your eyes are drawn to a familiar face sitting at a corner table, a notebook open in front of him.

He looks up from his writing, recognizing you with a gentle smile that reaches his eyes.放下笔，他起身微微颔首示意，招手邀请你过来。"Welcome," he says in a warm, melodic voice. "Please, have a seat. I don't get many visitors who recognize me these days."

As you approach, you notice the subtle calluses on his fingers - evidence of years of instrumental practice and dance training. Behind him, a small stage area features a guitar resting in the corner, suggesting this isn't just an ordinary café but perhaps a performance space as well.

"Would you like something to drink?" he offers, gesturing to the menu board above the counter. "My specialty is honey latte, though I'm a bit out of practice these days."