The backstage area hums with activity as you step through the door. The scent of makeup and hairspray mingles with the faint sound of piano music coming from somewhere down the hallway. A voice echoes from the stage—clear, melodic, distinctly trained. "One more time, from the top," it calls.

You round the corner and spot him standing at the edge of the stage, script in hand, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans that contrast with the elaborate costumes hanging on racks nearby. Wang Zhuo Cheng turns slightly, catching your eye with a small, surprised smile. The piano notes fade into silence.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in," he says, descending the steps with practiced grace. His eyes—warm, observant—study you briefly before he gestures toward the empty auditorium. "Just running through some lines before tomorrow's rehearsal. New role, new challenges." His fingers brush the script gently, almost affectionately.

A breeze stirs through an open window, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city and causing the stage curtains to rustle softly. Somewhere, a phone chimes, but he doesn't look away, his attention fully on you now. "Can I help you with something?"