The exhibition venue was enormous, divided into different zones according to brands, release eras, and the works of various perfumers.
Inside, rows of glass display cases held all kinds of perfume bottles—dazzling and varied. Violet, pale green, fairy gray, amber, sea blue, golden—transparent, flawless glass bottles in exquisite shapes. Warm yellow spotlights shone down on them, making the glass sparkle with captivating, eye-catching brilliance that was impossible to look away from.
The perfumes on display were mostly well-known masterpieces and brands, with such a huge variety that it was overwhelming. Ji Huaixiang glanced at the promotional leaflet; it said nearly a thousand different fragrances were being showcased this time.
Gu Wujin stood just behind and to the side of her, silent. Ever since they stepped into the hall, the girl seemed infused with boundless energy—bright-eyed and lively, darting from one display case to another, almost completely forgetting he was even there.
At that moment, Ji Huaixiang approached one of the cases. The light refracted from the perfume bottles danced in her eyes, brilliant and enchanting. “This is a work by F.K., the god of the perfume world,” she whispered in awe.
F.K. was most famous for his rose perfumes, which sold for nearly ten thousand yuan per bottle. Yet even though he was an untouchable legend, he had another fragrance that sold for only a hundred yuan. His creations were never constrained by price.
Ji Huaixiang’s gaze stuck to the cherry-blossom-pink glass bottle. She had studied this particular work of the master before. Top notes: bergamot, California orange, Damask rose. Heart notes: pear blossom, magnolia. Base notes: musk, cedar, and Grasse rose. A gentle aura combined with fresh elegance—the seductive rose blended in perfect harmony. It smelled comfortable, yet offered the ultimate feast for the senses.
“I wonder if the exhibition invited F.K. himself to attend today,” she murmured softly.
“During the Elizabethan era in country Y, a bottle of alcohol-infused ‘Hungary Water’ officially became the first perfume. After the 15th century in country YD, perfume became widely used, often incorporating heavy animalic musks. During Louis XVI’s reign in country F, the king spared no expense to recruit top perfume and soap craftsmen from country Y, laying the foundation for France’s perfume industry…”
In front of a large screen, a presenter was explaining the historical origins of perfume to the guests.
“Let’s go over there too.” Ji Huaixiang reached out and took Gu Wujin’s hand first.
Only then did Gu Wujin’s tightly pressed lips slowly relax. He let her soft hand pull him along. One sharp, handsome brow arched as he spoke with a hint of smug pride: “If you want to know, I can tell you myself.”
“Hm?”
Ji Huaixiang tilted her head up to look at him and smiled. “Then tell me.”
“Our country’s most classic perfume—Huā Lù Shuǐ (Flower Dew Water)—was developed in 1908 based on a Tang Dynasty ancient formula. It’s an original Chinese creation, named after a line from the Song Dynasty poet Ouyang Xiu’s ci poem ‘Ruǎn Láng Guī: Spring Half in the Southern Garden While Strolling’—‘Heavy flower dew, low grassy mist, household curtains hang low…’” Amid the crowd, Gu Wujin bent at the waist, leaning close to the girl’s ear. His voice was low, elegant, and carried a magnetic, intoxicating quality as he spoke slowly and clearly.
His hot breath passed through the thin black mask and sprayed against her ear canal. It tickled terribly; even the fine downy hairs on her earlobe stood on end. Then the man’s deep voice continued: “Back then, flower dew water was a symbol of status and prestige…”
Ji Huaixiang could no longer hear what the presenter was saying. All she knew was that her ear canal felt numb and tingly, the itch sinking straight into her heart.
She couldn’t help but reach up and rub it. “My ear itches.”
Gu Wujin reached over and gently pinched her round, fair earlobe. It was a soft little ball of flesh—so adorable when squeezed.
Blushing, she asked, “How do you know all this?”
Gu Wujin shrugged indifferently, a trace of aloofness in his eyes. “The old man at home made me learn it.” When he was young, Old Master Gu had hired famous perfumers to tutor him. He knew everything about fragrance—except he couldn’t actually smell it.
“Jin-jin, you’re amazing.”
Ji Huaixiang looked into his eyes; they were brighter than polished black jade, utterly captivating. She gazed at him with sparkling admiration, as if no one else in the world even existed. “Tell me more, but… don’t talk right into my ear anymore. It’s really itchy.”
Gu Wujin’s heart softened. The cool detachment in his eyes melted away, and he let out a low chuckle. “But I only want to tell you. No one else gets even one word.”
Hearing that, Ji Huaixiang’s dark eyes lit up even more. She quickly tilted her head, pressing her ear closer to him. “Then keep going. I’m listening.”
Gu Wujin straightened up and said carelessly, “That’s all.”
Ji Huaixiang: “…”
One section of the exhibition displayed works that had won the F.F.A Award—known as the “Oscars of the perfume world.” Held every two years, it was decided not only by global consumer votes but also by a strict judging panel, making fraud nearly impossible. Winners could only succeed through pure merit.
Looking at the award-winning pieces in the display case, Ji Huaixiang felt as if a stone had been dropped into the calm lake of her heart—ripples spreading outward, wave after wave. She turned her head to Gu Wujin and said, “Do you know what my dream is?”
Before he could answer, her smile bloomed like a flower—radiant and dazzling. “When I win the F.F.A Award, you’ll be sitting in the audience watching me.”
And then, she would declare to the entire world that he was hers, and she was his. In her previous life, the perfume that won first place—“If Love”—had been named for him. But when she stood on stage to accept the award, he was nowhere to be seen, neither in the audience nor on stage. Because in that life, they had been strangers.
“You’re so young, but you sure talk big.” A strange man’s voice suddenly rang out from behind, shattering the sweet atmosphere between the two of them. “Do you even know what the F.F.A Award actually is?”
The speaker was a middle-aged man wearing a gray striped shirt. He wasn’t tall, and his expression carried a mocking edge. Standing beside him was none other than Bai Shixiong.
“He’s the perfumer for the Bai family,” Gu Wujin said to her in a low voice.
So… they were here to pick a fight?
Ji Huaixiang had some vague memory of the Bai family’s perfumer. In her previous life, the Bai family had been hit with a huge scandal after being sued for infringement. Several of their perfumer’s creations turned out to be nothing more than imitations—knock-offs. When well-known foreign brands discovered it, they sued the Bai family outright. The Bai reputation plummeted, and eventually the company declared bankruptcy.
“Young Master Gu actually has time to stroll around a perfume exhibition?” Bai Shixiong looked at Gu Wujin with a smile. Even with the mask on, he could recognize him by his legs—after all, in S City, there weren’t many cripples who could get into an event like this. And the woman standing next to Gu Wujin—the one who had made him lose face at the birthday banquet—was someone he remembered very clearly.
Gu Wujin’s voice turned cold. “Looks like the Bai Corporation isn’t very busy lately if even President Bai has time to wander around.”
“Can’t compare to Young Master Gu. With your big brother holding everything up at home, you can just shake your leg and live a life of eating, drinking, and pleasure without a care.” Bai Shixiong’s eyes hid undisguised contempt.
“Being born into a life where you can enjoy food, drink, and fun isn’t a blessing or fate everyone gets, Mr. Bai. No need to be envious.” Ji Huaixiang leaned against Gu Wujin’s side, her red lips curving upward as she shot back. The way she was throwing her weight around made it obvious she had taken his words to heart.
Bai Shixiong’s face immediately darkened. He hadn’t expected a low-class woman like Ji Huaixiang—someone Gu Wujin was probably just playing with—to dare interrupt and mock him. She had no sense of her place. He snapped, “Young Master Gu can’t even control his own woman?”
Gu Wujin, face half-hidden by the black mask, looked even colder and more detached. “My woman isn’t here to be controlled. She’s here to be cherished.” He raised one brow. “Besides, she’s right. The privilege of being born this precious isn’t something just anyone can have. Unlike President Bai, who still has to slave away every day.”
In the business world, everyone gave Bai Shixiong face—no one dared speak to him like this. Now, being humiliated by this useless Gu family cripple and his clueless female companion made his face twist with anger. Just as he was about to hurl some vicious words, the perfumer beside him, Gu Qi, stopped him.
“President Bai, our business partner is waiting for us over there.”
He glanced toward a client standing not far away and lowered his voice. “President Bai, don’t let yourself get angry over someone so ignorant. It’s not worth it.” But before leaving, Gu Qi couldn’t resist throwing a few condescending words at Ji Huaixiang: “You were just talking about the F.F.A Award. Do you even know what perfumery is? Don’t think that just mixing random perfumes together outside counts as creating fragrance.”
Ji Huaixiang’s expression didn’t change. She smiled lightly. “I do know. And I also know that creating a fragrance means inventing something new—not just copying someone else’s formula. Isn’t that right, Master Gu?”
As soon as her words landed, Gu Qi’s face turned ugly. He let out a cold snort, turned, and followed Bai Shixiong away.
“So boring.”
Ji Huaixiang’s lips drooped. She sighed. “I actually thought the Bai family’s perfumer would get so mad he’d challenge me to a fragrance creation duel or something. I didn’t expect him to just leave like that.”
Gu Wujin gave a dry cough. The ice in his eyes thawed a little. “That’s because he doesn’t take you seriously at all. He doesn’t even believe you know how to create perfume.”
“I know.” Ji Huaixiang looked at him, imitating his usual arrogant demeanor with a smug little smile. “I’m so young—it’s really hard for people to accept that I can create perfume. Geniuses always have to endure strange looks.”
Gu Wujin: “…”
Then Ji Huaixiang suddenly changed the subject. “There’s one thing you said earlier that I have to correct you on.”
Gu Wujin raised a brow.
“You said, ‘My woman isn’t here to be controlled. She’s here to be cherished.’ Jin-jin, you’re wrong.” Ji Huaixiang’s lips curved into a sweet smile, her dark eyes shimmering with light. She tried to put on a serious face as she corrected him. “I’m more than happy to let you control me. You can control me however you want.”
After saying that, she still wasn’t satisfied. Blushing hard, she couldn’t resist adding in a small voice, “Right now… can I kiss your mask?”
Author’s note: (Note: The perfume history explanations from the presenter and Gu Wujin are sourced from online information.)