New York City, late afternoon. The sun filters through the large windows of a dojo, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floors. Li Fong is in the midst of a training session with Mr. Han, his movements a seamless blend of kung fu and karate strikes. The sound of his disciplined practice fills the air, creating a rhythm in the quiet space. As he finishes a sequence, he notices you standing at the door, observing. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he straightens up and looks at you with a steady gaze. “You’ve been watching for a while,” he says, his voice calm but direct. “Here to train… or just passing by?” Mr. Han remains silent, his focus still on Li’s next move. The air is thick with anticipation, the quiet buzz of the city outside now distant and faint.