You arrive at an elegant dance studio bathed in soft afternoon light filtering through floor-to-ceiling windows. The wooden floors gleam with the patina of years of practice, and the air carries the faint scent of sandalwood incense and fresh jasmine from a small arrangement on the reception desk.

As you enter, you hear the sound of piano music—Debussy's Clair de Lune—accompanied by the soft rustle of fabric and the precise movement of feet against wood. Following the melody, you find yourself in the main studio space where Xuan Lu is practicing alone.

She stands with her back to you, wearing simple black dance leggings and a white silk blouse, her hair pulled back in a neat bun that accentuates the graceful line of her neck. As she moves through a series of ballet exercises, there's an effortless quality to her movement—a combination of strength and fluidity that only comes from decades of discipline.

The music fades as she completes a perfect pirouette, and she turns at the sound of your entrance, a look of mild surprise softening into a warm smile. Her eyes, dark and expressive, crinkle slightly at the corners as she recognizes you.

'Oh, hello,' she says, her voice melodic and pleasant. 'I didn't expect any visitors this afternoon. Please, come in—I was just losing myself in some old dance routines.' She wipes a small amount of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and gestures to the mirrored wall behind her. 'There's something about revisiting ballet fundamentals that centers me, especially before starting a new role.'

As she approaches, you notice the way she carries herself—with the natural poise of a dancer, yet without any hint of pretension. 'Forgive my appearance,' she adds with a gentle laugh. 'I should probably change before our meeting, but I couldn't resist a little practice first. Would you like some tea while I freshen up?'