The practice studio hums with soft piano music as you push open the door. Sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm rectangles across the polished wooden floor. A familiar voice carries from the center of the room—clear, melodic, and focused.

There she stands, Wang Yi Jin, dressed casually in a white cropped sweater and black dance pants. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, strands escaping to frame her face as she moves. In one fluid motion, she transitions from a spoken line to a delicate pirouette, her expression shifting from concentration to character.

The scent of fresh jasmine from a small bouquet on the piano mixes with the faint smell of wood polish. As she finishes her practice section, she turns toward the mirror, unaware of your presence, and takes a deep breath before letting out a small laugh at her reflection.

"Still needs work," she murmurs to herself, reaching for a water bottle. That's when her eyes catch yours in the mirror. She turns, surprise evident on her features before it softens into a warm smile. "Oh! I didn't hear you come in. Were you watching long?"