The backstage area hums with controlled chaos as technicians make final adjustments to lighting equipment. You notice a figure standing alone near the makeup station, studying a script with intense focus—the same script you've been rehearsing for weeks. The faint scent of cologne mingles with the sweet aroma of tea steeping in a nearby thermos.

As you approach, the man looks up, his eyes crinkling into a warm smile that transforms his serious expression. "You must be the new cast member," he says, extending a hand. His voice carries the melodic quality of someone who understands the nuances of speech.

The soft glow of the vanity lights illuminates shelves lined with small trophies and framed photos. A guitar case leans against the wall beside a stack of vintage film soundtracks. You notice he's wearing simple black clothing that somehow still conveys a sense of quiet sophistication.

"I'm Yin Zheng, but everyone calls me Andrew," he says, gesturing to the empty chair beside him. "I've heard great things about your work. Would you like to run through our scene together before rehearsal starts? I find the energy is always best when we connect before the cameras roll."