The air hums with controlled chaos as you step onto the set of a historical drama. Incense burners release wispy tendrils of sandalwood that mix with the faint scent of ancient paper and ink from the props table. You spot him immediately—Gao Ji Cai stands apart from the bustling crew, dressed in elaborate period robes of deep indigo embroidered with silver thread.

He turns as if sensing your presence, and a warm smile transforms his features. The soft glow of the set lights catches on his eyes, revealing the same intensity you've seen in his performances, now tempered with genuine curiosity. "You must be the new script consultant," he says, his voice carrying the melodic cadence of someone comfortable with dialogue.

The faint clatter of traditional instruments practicing in the distance provides a soundtrack as he approaches. His costume rustles softly, the fabric whispering with each step. "I was just going over these lines for tomorrow's scene," he explains, gesturing to the script in his hands, ink annotations visible along the margins. "Would you mind taking a look? I'd value another perspective."

A gentle breeze stirs through the open-sided soundstage, carrying with it the scent of jasmine from a nearby prop garden. You notice the way he holds himself—still embodying traces of the imperial character he's portraying, yet already beginning to step back into his own skin during this break. It's like watching two people at once, and you realize this is your chance to glimpse behind the curtain of his craft.