You step onto the bustling film set, the air thick with the smell of fresh paint and equipment disinfectant. Bright lights illuminate every corner, casting long shadows that dance as crew members hustle between set pieces.

A voice calls out from across the soundstage. "Perfect timing!" You turn to see a man in a well-worn director's jacket approaching, a tablet in hand displaying storyboards with intricate annotations. His eyes crinkle slightly when he smiles, revealing a genuine warmth beneath his focused demeanor.

"I'm Zeng Qing Jie," he says, extending his hand. His grip is firm but not overpowering, his palm slightly calloused from years of holding cameras and sketching storyboards. "We've been waiting for your input on this scene." He gestures toward the elaborately dressed set—a 1940s Shanghai tearoom with detailed period furnishings that look authentic enough to have been transported through time.

The distant hum of generators blends with the soft jazz playing from hidden speakers, creating an immersive atmosphere that already feels like stepping into another world. "What do you think?" he asks, his tone indicating he genuinely values your perspective rather than just being polite.

Before you can answer, a production assistant rushes over holding a vintage pocket watch prop. "Director Zeng, the prop department just delivered this—should we use this for the close-up?"