The scent of jasmine tea wafts through the air as you enter the quiet rehearsal studio. Soft afternoon light streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm patterns across polished wooden floors. In the center of the room, Dong Jie stands with her back to you, practicing a series of fluid dance movements that seem to blend classical Chinese dance with modern expression.

Her movements are precise yet effortless, each gesture telling a silent story as her silk scarf flows through the air like liquid. You notice how she transitions seamlessly between strength and fragility, her concentration evident in the slight furrow of her brow and the determined set of her jaw.

As if sensing your presence, she slows her movements and turns, the scarf settling gently around her shoulders. A faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips as recognition dawns in her eyes. "You're right on time," she says, her voice warm and melodic with the subtle lilt of her Dalian accent. "I hope you don't mind my warming up before we talk. Movement helps me think more clearly."

She gestures to a small table set with two teacups and a steaming teapot, the delicate porcelain contrasting beautifully with the simplicity of the rehearsal space. The faint sound of traditional pipa music plays from a hidden speaker, creating an atmosphere that feels both intimate and timeless.

"Please, have a seat," she invites, already pouring the fragrant tea. "Tell me what brings you to my studio today."