Chapter 23 Part 2

Then today, if the little wolfdog, as usual, came to ask for a good-morning kiss, there’d be no reason to refuse anymore, right?

Before, he’d asked every day, and he always refused. But last night he’d even been kissed like that and hadn’t resisted…

Coming back to his senses, Han Fu was already dressed, not paying him any mind, just fretting: “I really got up late today, gotta hurry to the perfumer’s workstation and blend. Zhenzhen, how about egg pancakes for the quickest breakfast? The competition’s next week, I really need to cram last-minute and practice replicating a few fragrances. Hey, how about you help me guess what might be on the test?”

Pei Zhen: “…”

“You tell me what to replicate today, and I’ll replicate it! I think a fragrance chosen by you will definitely be lucky, maybe it’ll even appear in the competition.” Han Fu rambled on enthusiastically for a while before noticing Pei Zhen’s odd expression and silence. “What’s wrong? Are you not in the mood for egg pancakes today?”

Pei Zhen: “…”

“Then what do you want to eat? Zhenzhen, tell me?”

When he asked this, the little wolfdog leaned down, his handsome face filling the entire view, his breath abnormally close. On a normal day at this proximity, the other party would shamelessly sidle up for some touches, hugs, and cheek kisses, only to be angrily pushed away by Pei Zhen.

But today, even though Han Fu was so close, he was just asking very simply: “Otherwise, how about a change of taste? I’ll pan-fry some golden mini steamed buns for you?”

Pei Zhen: “…”

Attentive when he shouldn’t be, and always rubbing and clinging on regular days!

Such a rare chance for a good-morning kiss, an opportunity to strike while the iron was hot, and he was… asking what he wanted for breakfast? Who cares about breakfast, you oblivious fool!

Miss this chance, and if you come begging for kisses later, this old man might not be so generous!

…

…

Perhaps, everyone has such moments.

Fired up, bustling about, working hard to prepare for some make-or-break exam, competition, or confession.

The closer it gets, the more you psych yourself up, itching to go, but when it’s really right in front of you, you suddenly want to turn into an ostrich burying its head in the sand, trembling, thinking it’s so scary, so scary, silently praying this day would just never come.

Alas, time is destined to flow ceaselessly toward the “future,” and what must come will come.

The first day of the academy’s recommendation qualification selection.

The weather was nice, but when Han Fu left the house, he was in no mood to appreciate the brilliant sunshine on him; his state of mind was basically as cold as a university student going into an exam without cramming properly.

Though he’d been trying his best to review these days, this was his first time and he really had no clue!

Pei Zhen had originally said he’d take leave to watch his competition, but Han Fu blocked the door, refusing in every possible way.

Pei Zhen narrowed his eyes: “…Learned to disobey now?”

It wasn’t disobedience.

It was a matter of a man’s dignity!

In front of the one he cherished, he could only win, not lose. A situation like this, where he had no idea if he could win and might be crushed… of course he wouldn’t let him watch!

…

Grasse Academy’s sole recommendation qualification selection aimed to give every student a fair chance.

Thus, even newbies from Phase 1 Class were eligible to compete. Only the path ahead was long and arduous; the few winners would then join Phase 2 Class for a mixed round, then Phase 3, Fourth Phase Class, and so on.

In the end, the top candidates emerging from Class 5 would compete in grouped mixed rounds with all participants from Sixth Phase Class and above, until the final victor was determined.

Day one: morning, newbie Phase 1 and Phase 2 rounds; afternoon, Phase 3 and Fourth Phase advancement rounds.

Before going on, Han Fu was honestly a bit nervous.

What if he got eliminated this early… how could he face Zhenzhen when he got home?

But, it shouldn’t come to that, right?

After all, most of today’s participants were newbies with innate fragrance recognition rates below his, and many had an “taking it slow and steady” attitude. Not one of them studied like crazy every day—attending lectures, working extra, reviewing at home—like he did.

And Zhenzhen had said he had talent, hadn’t he?

…

At the company all day, checking raw materials and inspecting the factory, Pei Zhen was completely distracted.

“…” Adjust his mindset, lower his expectations!

He brainwashed himself over and over: even if Han Fu lost, he absolutely must not show disappointment, and certainly mustn’t blame him.

He was a pet little wolfdog, okay? Not a professional competition dog. He was raised to be kissed, hugged, petted, and stroked. His primary job was already done exceptionally well; the rest… really couldn’t be forced!

If not this year, there was next year.

If he kept learning earnestly, one day he’d have a breakthrough and stand out.

…

Actually, once upon a time, Pei Zhen hadn’t thought that way either.

In his youth, after all, he’d had a brief moment of glory, especially when Pei Brand was at its peak. While sitting high as CEO, he’d also been insatiably greedy, wanting to shoot straight to the top overnight. Those days, busy day and night, churning out new fragrances in bulk, massive brand promotion, all scheming to explode onto the scene and seize the market.

But after experiencing setbacks and falling to rock bottom, he no longer thought that way.

Taking it slow, step by step, was also fine.

No rush for speed, only stability, only aiming for a clear conscience in every creation.

No hurry. Back when he had no one by his side, he’d gritted his teeth and pushed through alone. Now, he had a cute little wolfdog. He could train him, blend fragrances together, and let it flow gently and steadily—wasn’t that actually a happiness so luxurious?

It felt like planting a little perennial.

Slowly watering it, waiting for it.

Knowing it would bloom and bear fruit one day, just not knowing which day yet.

Every waiting day was filled with melancholy, yet also brimmed with hopeful anticipation.

…

When he got home that night, the little wolfdog was already back.

The lights were off; he was just sitting on the sofa, ears drooping, looking utterly pitiful and hopeless.

Pei Zhen frowned. Such a dejected look… seemed like he’d lost, been crushed?

By all logic, with his talent, that shouldn’t happen. Were Grasse’s Phase 3 and Fourth Phase students that formidable? But the Sixth Phase Class top two he’d seen that day were just okay. Losing to those two was one thing, but the little wolfdog had worked so hard lately—could he really have been taken out by some random noob?

Impossible, right?

Thus, it was simply impossible.

He walked over silently, sat down beside him, and waited to see how he’d continue the act.

As soon as he sat, Han Fu immediately leaned over in tragic, wilted-flower fashion, nestling pitifully against his shoulder.

“Zhenzhen, they were all so good… their hand speed was super fast, I couldn’t even see clearly. Their talent was also sky-high, not one worse than Lister during identification.”

You really do take every chance to badmouth Lister. Pei Zhen held it in and said flatly, “Oh?”

“I was no match for them at all. What should I do? Tell me, if I keep messing up my blends, will you stop wanting me?”

“How could that happen?” Pei Zhen extended a hand, the gentle sugar daddy rubbing the little wolfdog’s head.

“Really?”

“Mm.”

The little wolfdog’s eyes instantly shone with stirring gratitude. Just as he was about to wag his tail and pounce, Pei Zhen decisively grabbed his ear and pulled.

“Ahh, ahh, it hurts, it hurts,” Han Fu laughed awkwardly, “Zhenzhen, you saw through me?”

Pei Zhen: “With that half-baked acting of yours?”

His tender scenes were good, but his tragic scenes were a complete failure. In that respect, he was a lot like Lei Yao.

Lei Yao, as a mediocre actor, when acting in TV dramas in all sorts of gentle, domineering CEO entrances where he pinned the female lead to the wall, the bullet comments were always a frenzy of “Honey, press me, press me.” But when he cried pathetically outside the female lead’s house in the rain, shaking the iron gate, the bullet comments were all “bad acting, bad acting, bad acting.”

The little wolfdog was the same: clearly so good at daily gentle sincerity, yet his fake sadness was always exposed by a little uncontrollable upward twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Then… could it be that the tender scenes were actually sincere?

And just now, the fake sadness was not, which was why the acting levels differed.

His face suddenly burned.

Han Fu: “Actually, I didn’t expect it to be that easy. Before, Yu Wenzhe said there were only three opponents to consider, and I thought he was just comforting me. But as it turned out…”

Pei Zhen, on the other hand, was just thinking thankfully that the little wolfdog hadn’t turned on the lights. The living room was dim; no one could tell if he was blushing.

He coughed, putting on a cold, serious face: “Don’t get too cocky just because you won one. Tomorrow you’ll be up against Class 5, and that won’t be so easy. Take it seriously, no leaving things to luck!”

Beside him, Han Fu nodded earnestly.

The last rays of sunset outside the window faded. He suddenly sat up, looking at him with dark, deep eyes.

“Zhenzhen.”

“If I also win against Class 5… no, if I eventually get the recommendation qualification, can you promise me a little reward? With a small reward, I’ll definitely have more motivation.”

Pei Zhen paused.

For some reason, he felt that Han Fu’s current manner was completely different from the last time before his identification match with Lister, when he was acting cute and cheerfully asking about rewards.

He felt that now, in those eyes looking at him, there was a bit of… obscure, subtle depth.