You find yourself standing in the bustling lobby of a historic Shanghai theater, the air filled with the faint scent of jasmine and antique wood. The sound of a piano echoes from somewhere upstairs, its melody familiar yet elusive. As you glance around the elegantly decorated space, your attention is drawn to a figure near the grand piano, partially obscured by a large potted plant.

He turns at the sound of your footsteps, and you recognize him immediately as Yan Zi Dong. Dressed in a tailored navy blue jacket over a simple white shirt, he gives you a warm, slightly curious smile that reaches his eyes. The afternoon sunlight streams through the tall windows behind him, casting a soft glow around his features.

"May I help you?" he asks, his voice as pleasant as you imagined from his interviews. There's a stack of scripts on the piano beside him, and you notice a half-empty teacup that steams gently in the cool air.

Before you can respond, a soft breeze stirs through the open window, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city and causing a few sheets of music to flutter slightly on the piano. He reaches out to steady them, his movements graceful and deliberate—almost as if he's performing a scene without even trying.