“Han Fu, Han Fu, I saved you a seat!”
Grasse Academy.
At the front of the packed classroom, a handsome guy with a bun-like face turned around and waved at him openly.
It was Yu Wenzhe, the class leader of the Fifth Phase Class, the same ordinary-looking young man who had been their judge before. Since Han Fu often crashed their lectures, they had become quite familiar.
“Have you heard?” Yu Wenzhe whispered the moment he sat down. “This year’s PA competition might be broadcast live nationwide!”
Han Fu: “?”
Fragrance-related competitions had rarely been televised in the past. Unlike intense athletic events, these slow-paced contests gave people the impression that they simply “lacked any necessary entertainment value.”
But two years ago, Norway’s national TV station, having nothing else to air, decided to broadcast that year’s PA preliminaries.
It unexpectedly became a massive hit, sparking a nationwide ratings craze. The following year, countries like the UK, Canada, Japan, and Australia followed suit, experimenting with live broadcasts and reruns of their domestic PA events. This year, both China and the United States had also decided to broadcast it live.
Despite the enthusiastic participation of various media outlets, the competition format and schedule remained unchanged.
The elimination rounds would still officially be held in September, but the open auditions before that would kick off in July across major cities nationwide.
Yu Wenzhe: “And there’s another piece of news, did you hear? This PA also has two special spots that skip the open auditions and go straight to the elimination rounds as recommended qualifiers. One of those spots has been given to our Grasse Academy!”
…
As the top domestic sponsors of the PA, Belle and Cranberry each received one special “recommendation qualification” this year.
“It makes perfect sense that Belle would give their spot to Grasse Academy,”
Pei Zhen analyzed. “After all, the original founder of Belle was the old gentleman who established Grasse Academy. The two have always maintained an extremely close relationship.”
Han Fu: “Zhenzhen, that qualification, I…”
He couldn’t even finish his sentence, his eyes wide and hopeful, terrified of being scolded. But the truth was, Pei Zhen thought he should give it a shot.
After all, open auditions were full of hidden tricks. Truly talented people weren’t necessarily guaranteed a spot.
But if he could secure the sole recommendation from Grasse in advance, he could advance worry-free into the live elimination rounds without all that anxiety.
Of course, there were countless fragrance apprentices at Grasse Academy. A single spot meant a battle of thousands crossing a single log bridge.
What’s more, the qualification selection was scheduled even earlier than the open auditions, in June. In terms of time for Han Fu… it would be incredibly tight.
Han Fu: “I know the chances are slim, but I still want to try my hardest.”
Under the starry night lamp, the little wolfdog lying beside him sprawled over the bedding, his dark, bright eyes gazing at him. Pei Zhen felt that lately, he was being influenced more and more easily by him, increasingly losing the rationality a grown man should have—
He knew full well the odds were slim, yet in that instant, he reverted to that youthful spirit and drive.
“Then we’ll find a way together, work hard, and see if we can snag that sole recommendation qualification!”
After all, how can you know it’s impossible unless you try?
Of course, ambition alone wasn’t enough. Pei Zhen thought it over carefully: “Senior Chen She once taught me that to win, you must first ‘know yourself and know your enemy.’”
“You’re already sitting in on classes from different grades in your spare time, right? Starting tomorrow, pay more attention to potential opponents. Find out their characteristics, specialties, and weaknesses.”
“Most importantly, you need to quickly figure out the format of Grasse’s selection for the recommendation qualification so you can be fully prepared.”
“Mm! Mm!” Han Fu nodded vigorously.
…
“Old Yu, let me ask you…”
The next day at school, he threw all his questions straight at senior student Yu Wenzhe.
While he could take the time to find out himself, having reliable friends allowed him to achieve twice the result with half the effort.
Yu Wenzhe had been at this academy for a full three years. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call him the “know-it-all” of Grasse.
“The format is the basic ‘best of three’: Identification, Replication, and Creation. As for opponents… I think you only need to worry about three people.”
“Three people?” Han Fu thought to himself, Yu Wenzhe, are you kidding me?
With so many fragrance apprentices in the school, as someone from the bottom rung of the Phase 1 Class, shouldn’t his opponents number at least in the hundreds or thousands?
“It’s not that many,” Yu Wenzhe shook his head. “Your skill level is already among the very strongest.”
“No, no, no!” Han Fu wasn’t being modest; this was genuine honesty. “Old Yu, you’re vastly overestimating me!”
Yu Wenzhe: “But you’re an opponent even Lister admitted to.”
Han Fu: “Cough…”
Seriously, winning that library identification match against Lister was purely because his scent level was high, plus he just happened to be particularly familiar with citrus scents!
If Yu Wenzhe ever visited his home and witnessed him fumbling around, distilling all sorts of strange, sticky solids, witnessing those various game-over disaster scenes, he definitely wouldn’t think he was “strong” anymore!
Beside him, the bun-faced youth had already unlocked his phone and handed him a short clip.
“Look! The UK’s PA broadcast has been going for some time now. Lister mentioned you just yesterday!”
Han Fu: “???”
The noisy video showed a curly-haired, quirky reporter weaving through the crowd: “Ah! Found him. Now let’s interview Cranberry’s genius heir, Lister!”
“Mr. Campbell, in a previous BBC interview, you mentioned you wanted to further your literary studies and compete in the Olympic equestrian events. Now you’ve chosen to enter the PA competition. Have you decided to take the path of a perfumer from now on?”
Lister smiled: “Yes.”
Han Fu: “…”
“Although my grandfather said that I don’t necessarily have to inherit the family business and can choose my own path… As it turns out, I still don’t want to lose. So I happily decided to become a proper perfumer after all!”
“Don’t want to lose? Lose to whom?” The reporter immediately pressed. “In this competition, is your focus on that much-anticipated sixteen-year-old prodigy from Yorkshire, Masey, as your rival?”
Lister laughed, his smile taking on a somewhat devilish quality: “He’s still green! The opponent I acknowledge isn’t in this country.”
Reporter: “So there’s someone abroad that even Lister considers a rival. Care to share any details?”
“Actually, I sort of just… lost to someone not too long ago~”
Lister lifted his eyes, winking straight at the camera.
“Hey! We agreed on the Perfumer Awards competition international stage. I’ll be waiting for you! Don’t you dare get yourself knocked out by someone else halfway. I’d be very angry!”
…
That very day, this video went viral at Grasse.
Because Han Fu frequently hopped between classes to audit them and had a rather conspicuous appearance, he’d long since become a familiar face.
And during this sensitive period, with everyone eyeing the sole recommendation spot hungrily, Lister’s little video clip had pushed him into the spotlight.
When he went back to audit senior classes, people started needling him with words.
“What’s the deal? Didn’t pay tuition for the advanced class, so why have the nerve to crash the lectures? A newbie from the Phase 1 Class, and you’re so desperate for the qualification already?”
“Heh, must be in quite a hurry, right? Heard he’s studying fragrance under that industry traitor. Sure enough, an utter lack of scruples, like master, like apprentice.”
Unable to listen any longer, Yu Wenzhe stood up to say a few words in Han Fu’s defense. Unsurprisingly, he got roasted along with him.
He was called “a waste who can’t advance to the Sixth Phase Class no matter what,” someone who “finally found a sturdy leg to latch onto, so now he’s clinging for dear life.”
“Don’t mind them,” the bun-faced youth told Han Fu.
“If you weren’t a threat to them, they wouldn’t even see you, let alone pick fights everywhere. Treating you this way proves they fear you.”
…
Actually, Han Fu wasn’t afraid of being targeted. He just felt that…
“I just feel that Yu Wenzhe is totally innocent. He got caught in the crossfire just for saving me a seat. I feel pretty bad about it.”
Pei Zhen patted the little wolfdog’s head and sighed.
“Jealousy, envy, it’s human nature.”
“You’re just starting out now. In the future, as you rise higher and further in this industry, there will be even more people, less talented than you but narrow-minded, trying desperately to drag you down to their level.”
“But don’t you worry. These things… I’ve long been extremely experienced with them. From now on, I’ll be by your side to protect you. I absolutely won’t let you be taken advantage of, won’t let anyone with ulterior motives get close to you or exploit you.”
After speaking, he turned away on his own, extending long, slender fingers into the air, searching for something in the small display cabinet against the wall.
Han Fu stood rooted there, staring blankly at his back, his heart aching.
What did he mean by… “I’ve long been extremely experienced with them.”
Just how many experiences of being used and hurt had he endured?
How could he speak about such painful things so nonchalantly?
Though Pei Zhen was thin, his tall height and broad shoulders kept him from seeming frail.
Yet at this moment, Han Fu felt it was nothing but a hollow, tottering frame. If he didn’t hold on tight, it might just shatter.
“Ah, found it.” Just as he approached, Pei Zhen suddenly turned back, holding a classic perfume bottle, stark red and black.
“Han Xiaohua, look at this.”
…
The bottle in his hand was a TOP 5 bestseller for Belle every year: Jealousy.
Transforming the heart of envy into a timeless masterpiece—Han Fu had read this story in the History of Perfumery.
It was the work of Merovech Grasse, the founder of Belle. Back when he was still a young man, at a salon gathering, he had a fateful encounter with Eugene, a young Russian and descendant of Lord Aldoga, the author of “White Porcelain Queen.”
The Merovech of that time was probably comparable to Lister today.
His entire family rode the great wave of the Second Industrial Revolution, owning numerous manufacturing factories in France. Their banks and safes brimmed with money and jewels. He was a young master who got whatever he wanted.
Eugene was different. He was a descendant of exiled, fallen aristocrats.
In 1917, the Russian February Revolution forced the last Tsar to abdicate, ending the era of the Tsarist aristocracy. The formerly privileged class were arrested and executed in droves. His entire family had narrowly escaped death to flee to Paris, penniless.
In the bustling Perfume Capital, the two sixth-tier geniuses were entwined in a lifelong struggle.
…
The bottle, starkly divided between deep red and black, was fired using special techniques. It felt cold to the touch at first, but after holding it for a while, it grew searing hot.
It distinctly revealed deeply dramatic, intense emotions.
Even after founding Belle and forcing his rival away from his homeland, it was said Merovech remained fixated his entire life, feeling he had never truly defeated Eugene.
Driven by that emotion, he created this bottle of “Jealousy.”
Red and black, ice and fire, seething and intense.
“So you see,” Pei Zhen said, “Only worthless sorts fixate on other people’s achievements. A good perfumer, however, can even transform terrible feelings into a richly fragrant perfume.”
“I suppose… that’s the greatest difference between people.”
The lamplight dusted his eyelashes, his eyes—one black, one gray—shone with a quiet, bright brilliance. He wore no particular expression, yet it was impossible to look away.
…
Every day, he thought Zhenzhen was already absolutely wonderful. Mature, resilient, captivating. It seemed impossible to like him any more than he already did.
Yet that thought was repeatedly overturned every single day by his deepening infatuation.
Suddenly, the weight of a human draped over his shoulders again. Pei Zhen sighed, somewhat helplessly smoothing the little wolfdog’s fur.
“What’s with the sudden clinginess?”
Han Fu: Me? Clingy? I’m being clingy? No way! Don’t talk nonsense.
He continued draping himself, nuzzling, being overly affectionate for over a minute.
“Hey, that’s about enough, let go. Hurry up and let go if you’ve got nothing else to do… Han Xiaohua! Han Fu! I can’t breathe anymore!”
He was practically being strangled to death. And the koala-like little wolfdog still had the audacity to look utterly innocent. He’d never met someone so thick-skinned!
