Dusk settled slowly over Hollywood, painting the sky in shades of amber and fading gold.
The pedestrian street was alive.
Tourists filled the sidewalks, voices blending into a constant hum of excitement. Neon lights flickered to life, cameras flashed, and beneath it all, the iconic stars embedded in the pavement stretched endlessly—each one carrying a name that once ruled the world of film and fame.
Among the crowd, a couple moved at a slower pace.
Lisa walked ahead, her steps light, almost bouncing with excitement, while Jamie trailed behind her, clearly struggling to keep up.
"Lisa… can we stop for a bit?" he finally said, letting out a tired breath. "I swear, my legs are about to give out."
Lisa turned back, smiling brightly, completely unfazed.
"Honey, this is the Hollywood Walk of Fame! We came all the way here—you're not seriously telling me you want to rest already?"
Jamie gave a helpless laugh.
Of course he didn't.
Not when she looked that happy.
Hollywood wasn't just another city—it was the center of global entertainment. And the ground beneath them, lined with the names of legends, made the entire place feel larger than life.
"Alright, alright," he said, shaking his head with a small smile. "Lead the way."
Lisa grinned and continued forward.
It didn't take long before something caught her attention.
"Jamie—look!"
He followed her gaze.
Tucked between sleek luxury boutiques and brightly lit brand stores stood something completely out of place.
An antique shop.
Its exterior was modest, almost aged, with a quiet presence that felt strangely detached from the modern world around it. Compared to the polished glass displays beside it, the shop looked like it belonged to a different era entirely.
"Let's check it out," Lisa said immediately.
Jamie nodded without hesitation.
Lisa had always loved trying new things—new food, new places, new cultures. Back in their hometown, there was a small Chinese restaurant she adored, and thanks to her, Jamie had gradually developed an interest in that culture as well.
And this place…
It was different.
Curious.
Intriguing.
He pushed the door open.
A soft chime rang.
Warm light spilled out to greet them, along with a calm, almost tranquil atmosphere that stood in sharp contrast to the noise outside. Inside, everything was arranged with deliberate care—ink paintings hung on the walls, porcelain pieces rested on wooden shelves, and jade ornaments glimmered faintly under the light.
It felt… refined.
Almost sacred.
Jamie paused for a moment, taking it all in.
Then he noticed the man behind the counter.
A young man sat there, quietly reading.
Black hair. Dark eyes. Sharp, composed features.
He looked up when the door opened.
For just a brief second, their eyes met.
And Jamie felt something—
A flicker.
Something strange.
But when he blinked and looked again, it was gone. The man's gaze was calm, ordinary, almost indifferent.
"Welcome," the young man said simply.
His tone was polite.
But his eyes…
They weren't.
There was no warmth in them. No enthusiasm, no interest in customers.
Instead, there was something else.
Something Jamie couldn't quite place.
Surprise.
Thoughtfulness.
And beneath it all—
Pity.
It was the kind of look someone might give a person who didn't have much time left.
Jamie felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Before he could think more about it, Lisa's voice broke his focus.
"Jamie, look at this!"
She had already wandered deeper into the shop, her curiosity fully ignited.
"These are beautiful… they look nothing like the stuff outside," she said, picking up a piece of jewelry carefully. "And this—this is blue and white porcelain, right? I've seen it in books!"
Her excitement was genuine, almost childlike.
The antiques seemed to draw her in effortlessly.
Soon, she stopped in front of a bracelet.
"Excuse me," she called out, turning toward the counter. "How much is this one?"
The shopkeeper's gaze shifted toward her, as if noticing her properly for the first time.
Jamie, still watching him closely, felt that same strange sensation again.
That look.
It was the same one he had given him.
The young man closed his book slowly.
"That one?" he said. "Two hundred dollars."
Lisa nodded.
That was well within her budget.
But just as she was about to say something—
"There's a problem."
She paused. "What problem?"
The young man's voice remained calm. Steady.
"You might live long enough to buy it," he said, "but not long enough to use it."
Silence.
For a second, neither of them reacted.
Then—
Anger surged.
"What did you just say?" Jamie snapped, stepping forward instantly. "You think that's funny?!"
Lisa's expression had also darkened, shock quickly turning into irritation.
Who says something like that to a customer?
The moment they meet?
"You damn brat—" Jamie started, clearly ready to escalate things.
Lisa grabbed his arm immediately.
"Jamie, stop," she said quickly. "It's not worth it."
She didn't like what was said either—but causing trouble here wasn't going to fix anything.
"Let's just go," she added firmly. "We're not buying anything from this place."
Jamie clenched his jaw, still furious, but eventually relented.
With one last glare at the shopkeeper, he turned and walked toward the door, pulling Lisa along with him.
Just as they were about to leave—
"…If you receive any packages from unknown sources," the young man's voice came again from behind them, "don't bring them home."
They paused.
"Otherwise," he continued, "you might regret it."
Jamie scoffed.
Lisa shook her head.
Neither of them took it seriously.
To them, it was nothing more than the rambling of someone clearly out of touch with reality.
The door closed behind them.
And the noise of the outside world rushed back in.
Inside the shop, silence returned.
The young man sighed faintly, shaking his head as if watching something inevitable unfold.
Then he lowered his gaze back to the book in his hands.
"This really isn't easy to understand…" he muttered softly. "Looks like I'll have to read it a few more times."
His name—
Was Lucien Blackwood.
Twenty-one years old.
Though, in truth, his mind carried far more years than his body suggested.
Because this wasn't his first life.
Rebirth.
Something he had only ever read about—something that belonged in fiction—had somehow become his reality.
At first, it had been confusing.
Then overwhelming.
And then—
It became clear that things were far from fortunate.
He had been reborn into a children's welfare home in the United States.
And those places…
They weren't kind.
Not unless you were lucky.
Before things could take a darker turn, someone appeared.
Old Su.
A man from China, with a past he never fully explained, who had taken Lucien in and brought him here—to this antique shop.
From that moment on, this place became his home.
Old Su wasn't ordinary.
That much was obvious.
A man who could own property on the Hollywood Walk of Fame wasn't someone simple, no matter how he explained it.
But whatever secrets he carried—
He took them to the grave.
Lucien had been the one to handle his funeral.
And he had been the only one there.
No relatives.
No friends.
No one.
It was… quiet.
Too quiet.
Since then, the shop had been his responsibility.
And unfortunately—
Business was terrible.
Most people here weren't interested in antiques, especially not ones tied to a culture they barely understood. Compared to the luxury stores surrounding it, Lucien's shop felt invisible.
Out of place.
Forgotten.
He had tried to fix that.
Thought about ways to promote it, to attract attention.
But without money, without connections…
There was only so much he could do.
Eventually, he stopped trying.
For now.
Instead, he spent his time reading.
The books left behind by Old Su.
Ancient texts.
Complex.
Difficult.
But—
Not useless.
Because recently…
Something had changed.
A faint notification surfaced in his mind.
Clear.
Unmistakable.
[You studied the Taoist classic Huangting Jing. Your comprehension has increased.]
Lucien's fingers paused on the page.
A slow smile formed on his lips.
"…Now that," he murmured quietly, "is interesting."
And just like that—
Everything had begun to shift.