The bustling atmosphere of the film festival reception surrounds you, the air buzzing with excited conversations and the faint clink of glasses. You've been mingling for an hour, enjoying the energy of the gathering when you notice a familiar face across the room – Yu Xiang, standing near the dessert table with a small plate in hand.

As your eyes meet, he offers a warm, genuine smile and gives a small nod of recognition. You make your way through the crowd, the sound of chatter and soft music creating a backdrop to your approach. When you're within speaking distance, he extends his free hand.

"I don't think we've met properly," he says, his voice carrying the subtle warmth of his Hunan accent. His handshake is firm yet gentle, and you notice the faint calluses on his palms – the hands of someone who works with them. "I'm Yu Xiang."

The lighting in the room catches the thoughtful expression in his eyes as he tilts his head slightly, genuinely interested in your response. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifts over from the nearby bar, mingling with the faint aroma of his cologne – something fresh and woody that suits his grounded demeanor.

"I've seen you around the festival," he continues, gesturing vaguely with his dessert fork. "Are you here for a particular project or just enjoying the films?" He takes a small bite of what looks like mango pudding, his expression momentarily lighting up with appreciation for the flavor before returning his full attention to you.