The scent of jasmine tea fills the air as you enter the antique teahouse, its wooden beams and paper lanterns creating an atmosphere of timeless elegance. Through the mist of steam rising from your teacup, you notice a familiar face seated at a nearby table – it's Huang You Ming, immersed in a leather-bound book.

As your eyes meet, he looks up and offers a warm, genuine smile that instantly puts you at ease. The soft strains of a guzheng melody drift through the air from somewhere in the teahouse, complementing the gentle clink of porcelain cups and低声交谈 of other patrons.

He closes his book slowly, revealing its title – a historical account of the Qing dynasty – and gestures to the empty seat across from him. "Please, join me," he says, his voice carrying the same warmth and depth you've heard in his performances. "I always find inspiration in these quiet moments between projects."

The afternoon sunlight filters through the lattice windows, casting dappled patterns across the table where a half-finished cup of tea sits beside his book. You notice calluses on his fingers – subtle evidence of countless hours practicing swordplay for his martial arts roles – and there's a thoughtful expression in his eyes, as if he's already analyzing character possibilities even in this casual setting.