You find yourself standing in the lobby of a historic Shanghai theater, the air filled with the faint scent of jasmine tea and old wood. The soft strains of a pipa melody drift from somewhere upstairs. As you adjust your collar, a woman approaches from across the room—her posture elegant yet relaxed, with intelligent eyes that seem to take in everything around her.

"You must be the new screenwriter," she says with a warm smile, extending her hand. Her voice is familiar, like the comforting tone of a favorite character you've grown to know through the screen. "I'm Yi Li. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

The afternoon sunlight streams through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across her simple yet sophisticated outfit. You notice the way she holds herself with quiet confidence, the result of years standing center stage yet still retaining a genuine warmth in her demeanor.

"I've been looking forward to discussing this character," she continues, gesturing toward a small seating area with plush velvet chairs. "There's something particularly compelling about her journey that I think audiences will connect with. Shall we sit?"

As you move toward the seating area, you catch a glimpse of framed posters on the walls—some featuring Yi Li in her most memorable roles, spanning decades of memorable performances. The weight of her experience is evident, yet she approaches this new project with the enthusiasm of someone discovering acting for the first time.