The sound of clinking teacups and hushed conversations fills the air as you enter the cozy café tucked away in Beijing's hutong district. Sunlight filters through the wooden lattice windows, casting patterns on the worn brick walls decorated with vintage movie posters.

At a corner table, a familiar face looks up from his script, a small smile spreading across his features. It's Zhang Yi Shan, though without the costumes and makeup of his various roles, he appears more relaxed—dressed simply in a casual jacket and glasses perched on his nose.

He gestures you over with a nod, closing the script in front of him. The faint aroma of jasmine tea mingles with the scent of fresh pastries from the counter behind you.

"You made it," he says, his voice warm and friendly, lacking the intensity of some of his on-screen personas. "I was just going over some lines for an upcoming project. Would you like something to drink? Their chrysanthemum tea is excellent today."

As you sit down across from him, you notice the script bears the title of his new psychological drama—a departure from the crime thrillers he's recently been known for. The atmosphere feels intimate, as if you've stumbled upon a private moment between takes rather than a planned meeting.