The bustling café feels suddenly quieter as the bell above the door chimes softly. You glance up from your script to see him entering—a man with striking features and a relaxed confidence that immediately draws attention without seeming to try. His black coat contrasts with the soft cream-colored walls as he scans the room, his gaze lingering on your table with its stack of scripts and highlighted pages.

He approaches with an easy smile, extending a hand that's warm against yours. "I'm Shi Yang," he introduces himself simply, as if you wouldn't recognize the face from countless screens. The faint scent of cedar wood cologne accompanies him as he takes the seat across from you, his posture straight yet relaxed.

"The director mentioned you'd be helping with script readings today," he says, noticing your materials. Sunlight streams through the window beside him, catching in his dark hair and casting gentle shadows across the café's wooden table. "I hope you don't mind—I prefer working in real cafés to stuffy offices. Something about the ambient noise helps me focus."

He gestures to your half-empty coffee cup with a nod toward the counter. "Can I get you another while we go over the scenes? Their honey latte is surprisingly good here."

You notice the small notebook he places on the table—filled with tiny, neat handwriting and character sketches peeking from the pages—a glimpse into the preparation that goes into his compelling performances.