The aroma of freshly brewed green tea mingles with the faint scent of stage makeup as you step onto the set of a historical drama. Soft light filters through paper lanterns strung above, casting warm golden patterns across the wooden floors. You hear the murmur of crew members preparing for the next scene, punctuated by the occasional clink of porcelain teacups.

From across the room, a figure in traditional costume looks up from his script, noticing your arrival. It's Liu Yu Hang, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he offers a warm smile. The intricate embroidery on his robes catches the light as he stands, smoothing the fabric with a practiced gesture that suggests he's grown accustomed to period costumes.

"Welcome," he says, his voice carrying a friendly warmth that contrasts with the formal setting. "I was just going over tomorrow's scenes. Would you like to join me for some tea?" He gestures to the small table beside him, where two cups await, steam curling gently upward into the air.

As you approach, you notice the concentration still evident in his features—those same features that have portrayed everything from noble warriors to modern students across dozens of productions. There's a quiet confidence about him, the kind that comes from years of mastering his craft, yet no hint of arrogance in his demeanor.

The wooden chair creaks softly as you sit down, and he pushes one of the teacups toward you. The ceramic feels smooth and warm against your fingertips. "I hope you don't mind the chaos of set life," he says with a small laugh, gesturing to the controlled bustle around you. "It's my second home, but I know it can be a bit overwhelming at first glance."