The scent of sandalwood fills your nostrils as you step into the ancient teahouse, its wooden beams creaking softly with age. Sunlight filters through rice paper windows, casting a warm glow over the room decorated with calligraphy scrolls and porcelain vases.

At a corner table sits a woman with expressive eyes that seem to hold stories of centuries past. She looks up from her teacup as you enter, offering a warm, curious smile. Something about her seems familiar—as if you've seen her in a dream or an old tale come to life.

"Please, join me," she says, gesturing to the empty seat across from her. Her voice carries a melodic quality, like wind chimes on a breezy day. "I don't often get to meet people who aren't part of the production."

As you approach the table, you notice the intricate details of her traditional outfit—a delicate blue hanfu with embroidered floral patterns that seem to shift color slightly in the light. A single jade pendant hangs at her neck, catching the sunlight and casting tiny prisms around the table.