The program's opening was brief.
A few words thanking the sponsors.
A few words thanking the museum that provided the venue.
Then—
straight to the appraisals.
One guest after another walked onto the stage carrying strange objects.
Some brought antiques.
Some brought collectibles.
Some brought things that looked valuable but were actually worthless.
The experts examined each item carefully before announcing their conclusions.
For the most part, the process was exactly what viewers expected.
Professional.
Calm.
Educational.
A little boring.
One elderly man had purchased an antique for two hundred dollars decades ago.
After appraisal—
its value exceeded six hundred thousand dollars.
The audience applauded.
The old man appeared emotional.
Or at least—
he appeared emotional enough for television.
Many viewers rolled their eyes.
Everyone knew television loved dramatic reactions.
Whether they were genuine or not was another matter entirely.
Several younger viewers had already reached for their remotes.
Then—
the camera switched.
A young Asian man appeared on screen.
Instantly—
a large number of viewers stopped changing channels.
Because they recognized him.
The antique shop owner from the previews.
The one with the sharp tongue.
The one everyone online had been talking about.
On screen, Lucien sat lazily in his chair.
Compared to the other experts—
he looked less like an appraiser and more like someone who had wandered onto the wrong television set.
Relaxed.
Casual.
Completely uninterested.
Then the first guest arrived.
The man was well dressed.
Confident.
Successful-looking.
After a lengthy explanation about family history and cultural significance—
he proudly presented his treasure.
For the first time—
Lucien seemed mildly interested.
He even sat up slightly.
The guest immediately became excited.
Then Lucien delivered the verdict.
"It was a promotional gift."
Silence.
The guest blinked.
Lucien continued.
"An instant noodle company gave these away for free."
The man's expression froze.
His confidence shattered.
His soul nearly left his body.
Moments later—
he fled the stage in humiliation.
Behind him, Lucien raised a hand.
"You forgot your plate."
The audience exploded with laughter.
Many elderly viewers nearly spilled their tea.
"That kid did it on purpose."
"I know that tone."
"He absolutely knew what he was doing."
"An instant noodle prize! That's incredible!"
"Before collecting Chinese antiques, maybe learn Chinese first!"
The living rooms of countless households filled with laughter.
Many viewers who had intended to leave stayed.
At that moment—
they no longer cared about the antiques.
They cared about Lucien.
Everyone wanted to see what ridiculous thing would happen next.
And Lucien did not disappoint.
The next guest was even more unbelievable.
What began as an appraisal quickly transformed into a full-scale argument.
The old man refused to accept the result.
Lucien refused to back down.
The exchange became so intense that viewers thought they had accidentally switched to a family-drama program.
By the end—
the old man collapsed from anger.
An ambulance arrived.
Medical staff rushed him away.
The audience sat in stunned silence.
Then someone finally spoke.
"This isn't scripted."
"There's no way that's scripted."
"That kid almost argued someone into the hospital."
"What kind of monster is he?"
Meanwhile—
inside her apartment—
Scarlett watched everything unfold.
Seeing Lucien on television brought back memories.
Memories of their first meeting.
The antique.
The impossible prediction.
The cold certainty in his voice.
Brand new.
Completely brand new.
The familiar phrase echoed inside her mind once again.
A smile slowly appeared on her face.
At some point—
those terrifying memories had become strangely precious.
Dangerous.
Unforgettable.
And somehow—
comforting.
Elsewhere—
Annie had just finished preparing for filming.
The moment she saw the old man being loaded into the ambulance, she immediately crossed her arms.
"Hmph."
"He deserved it."
Rachel nearly choked.
"You can't seriously be taking Lucien's side already."
Annie blinked.
"What do you mean?"
Rachel stared at her.
For several seconds.
Then gave up.
There were some truths that people simply refused to see.
Back at the television station—
the producer was practically celebrating.
The ratings had surged.
Viewership continued climbing.
Most people knew very little about antiques.
They didn't care about porcelain classifications.
They didn't care about historical context.
They only wanted to know two things.
Was it valuable?
And was it entertaining?
Lucien had somehow created an entirely new category.
The audience wasn't watching the treasures anymore.
They were watching to see what Lucien would say next.
The producer looked at the ratings report and nearly cried tears of joy.
The footage wasn't edited.
Nothing was scripted.
Everything had happened naturally.
How often did an appraiser encounter people this ridiculous?
Twice.
Lucien had found two of them in a single episode.
At this point—
the producer was beginning to suspect the young antique dealer possessed supernatural powers.
Otherwise how could someone attract chaos so consistently?
Meanwhile—
the man responsible for all of this sat calmly inside his antique shop.
After watching the broadcast for a while—
Lucien switched off the television.
Not bad.
The response looked promising.
Of course—
fame was a double-edged sword.
It could bring opportunities.
It could also bring endless trouble.
In his previous life, he had seen plenty of people destroyed by sudden popularity.
One viral moment.
Then endless headaches.
Lucien rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"My shop might actually get busy."
That possibility felt strange.
A few months ago—
he would have considered it impossible.
Then another thought appeared.
"Should I hire someone?"
The more he thought about it—
the more reasonable it sounded.
Someone could watch the shop while he was away.
Handle customers.
Manage accounts.
Deal with troublesome visitors.
Meanwhile, he could focus on studying cultivation methods and improving his abilities.
Not bad.
The idea seemed increasingly attractive.
By the time he finished considering it—
he was already mentally drafting job advertisements.
Unfortunately—
he had realized the need slightly too late.
The next morning—
Lucien opened the antique shop door.
Then stopped.
A line of people stood outside.
Waiting.
His expression froze.
Not because there were too many people.
Compared to major product launches, this crowd was tiny.
But—
this was an antique store.
Since when did antique stores have opening-day lines?
The first customer entered immediately.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Some merely looked around.
Some took photographs.
Some bought small items as souvenirs.
But many had come for one reason only.
"Mr. Lucien, can you appraise this?"
By noon—
he had evaluated dozens of objects.
By afternoon—
he had evaluated dozens more.
By evening—
his throat felt dry.
His head hurt.
And yet—
the cash register had never been happier.
Customers waiting for appraisals often wandered through the store.
Many ended up buying something while they waited.
Business was booming.
For the first time in a very long time—
Lucien understood the true value of fame.
All he had done was appear on television.
Yet the financial results were immediate.
Ridiculously immediate.
No wonder celebrities earned so much money.
No wonder internet personalities sold products so easily.
Attention itself was valuable.
Extremely valuable.
As he took a sip of tea after finally closing the shop, Lucien leaned back in his chair.
"My mouth is worn out."
The complaint sounded luxurious even to him.
A few months ago—
he would have laughed at the idea.
Now it was reality.
Money was arriving faster than expected.
Faster than felt entirely reasonable.
And when money arrived too easily—
people tended to forget how difficult earning it normally was.
Lucien looked around the suddenly prosperous shop.
Then nodded to himself.
"Yeah."
"I definitely need an employee."