Chapter 28: · Bluebell Part 1

S City, a renowned coastal mega-city and one of the nation’s top-tier urban centers, boasts a population of approximately 25 million.

A sales target of one thousand bottles, logically speaking, should be easily achievable if just one in every 25,000 people decided to make a purchase. Yet, this cheerful math clearly overlooked the consumption habits of the domestic market.

In this country, the vast majority of residents simply aren’t in the habit of wearing perfume daily. Many men go their entire lives without personally buying a single bottle, and even among the women who do purchase fragrances, many reserve them strictly for grand occasions, to be worn as accessories alongside evening gowns and high heels.

Even the “Les Étoiles” line, whose domestic perfume sales consistently rank in the top five, normally only sells about five thousand bottles online per month.

Meanwhile, other items under the same brand—clothing, shoes, hats—routinely sell ten times that volume.

“Conversely,” Pei Zhen said, “it could also be seen as… a market with boundless, immense potential.”

“Besides, the new generation of young people has grown up. I feel like, in the future, things are only bound to look brighter.”

His fingers were lifted from the bathtub.

The Little Wolfdog’s fingertips gently pressed along his knuckles and finger joints, kneading with perfectly calibrated pressure—an incredibly comfortable sensation.

Pei Zhen narrowed his eyes in bliss and relaxed back into the bath for a moment.

“Perfect timing. My contract factory is releasing a new fragrance next week. It’s already been finalized and sampled.”

“We’ve already held test panels with high school and university students in the surrounding area. The feedback was great, and the bottle design has been widely praised. Next week, I’ll have the product relabeled under your name and run a promotional campaign. One thousand bottles… in one week? That target should be reachable.”

Han Fu froze.

“How can that work? Zhenzhen, what I promised Lister was that whatever I sell must be a fragrance I blended with my own hands!”

The bathroom was thick with steam, warm tendrils of moisture sliding down from his temples.

Pei Zhen looked up, his gaze carrying the weight of an experienced veteran as he helplessly glanced at the clueless junior by his side.

“But so far, all you’ve ever done is replicate other people’s work. If you want to create your own fragrances, you’re still far from ready.”

Han Fu swallowed nervously. “I know that, but since I made the promise, I have to try my best. I… I’ll go give it a shot first thing tomorrow morning!”

“…” But, do you really think it’s that simple?

Pei Zhen shook his head.

“Even for many top-tier perfume brands, before a new product is launched, it takes years of back-and-forth—revisions, rejections, research, final decisions.”

“Not to mention the finished product has to account for coloration, preservation, bottle design, regulatory filing, advertising and marketing, and a whole slew of other issues. Even for my small contract factory, the launch of a new fragrance often takes six months or longer after the scent profile is finalized.”

And you—someone who has never independently created a fragrance before, a complete and utter first-timer—you actually think you can develop a ‘work’ in just one week, and successfully pass the test of the market and consumers, quickly selling one thousand bottles?

Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

He didn’t want to crush the Little Wolfdog’s spirit. But having navigated the perfume market for years, Pei Zhen knew the fundamental rules of this industry inside and out.

…

“Han Xiaohua, be good. The circumstances are special. For this round, just use my finished fragrance.”

Pei Zhen reached out with a hand still covered in bubbles and rubbed the Little Wolfdog’s handsome face. “There are still more than two months until the PA Competition. You can use this time to slowly learn how to blend your own perfumes and properly fill in your knowledge gaps.”

Han Fu: “But, Lister…”

Pei Zhen: “Relax. Lister has no way of telling whether or not you actually made this perfume. Even if he’s suspicious, you are, after all, my ‘apprentice.’ It’s perfectly natural that your style would be influenced by mine, and your fragrance notes would be similar to mine, isn’t it?”

Han Fu was silent for a moment.

He seemed lost in thought, but in the end, he still shook his head quietly.

“Zhenzhen, I can’t deceive Lister. Cheating is wrong, even if I won’t get caught.”

Pei Zhen withdrew his hand, his face cooling as he sat up straight.

The way that was said… as if he was the only one here incapable of telling right from wrong, as if he didn’t know lying was bad.

The problem was, faced with such a harsh and impossibly demanding task, if one refused to adapt, wouldn’t that only lead straight to a dead end?

“Han Xiaohua, should I call you optimistic, or do you just not grasp the situation?” Pei Zhen stared at him. “You don’t understand the market. You don’t understand consumers. You don’t understand perfume product design, and you certainly don’t understand just what a target of one thousand bottles in one week means. Do you truly intend to act on nothing but blind passion?”

“Or is it… that you think the perfume industry and the entire business world are far too simple?”

“I don’t,” Han Fu said softly. “I just feel that this seems like… a matter of professional ethics.”

Pei Zhen hurled the Screaming Duck aside.

“Fine! I’m the one infamous for my utter lack of professional ethics anyway!”

It’s what I deserve.

Wholeheartedly thinking only of you, only to have my own professional ethics questioned in return? Fine, fine, the student has surpassed the master. You can graduate right now, kid. I have nothing left to teach you.

“…”

“That’s not it, Zhenzhen…”

The Little Wolfdog was terrified. He hurriedly hugged him from behind, resting his chin on Pei Zhen’s damp shoulder, holding on tightly, so tightly.

Oh no, he’d said the wrong thing.

Ugh, why did it have to be… the very thing Pei Zhen hated hearing most?

…

…

Pei Zhen lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, unable to sleep.

It wasn’t anger. He wasn’t so fragile that a single mention of “professional ethics” could wound him. After all the open spears and hidden arrows he’d weathered before, such an unintentional slip was truly a minor thing.

… It was just that his mind was a mess.

From the end of the bath until getting into bed, he hadn’t said a single word. This made the Little Wolfdog incredibly nervous, who then clung to him desperately, pitifully acting cute and trying to appease him. When that failed, he had finally drifted off, looking utterly wronged.

Even now, his two hands stretched out from under the covers, gently clutching the corner of Pei Zhen’s pajamas, looking for all the world like a pup afraid of being abandoned.

“…” Pei Zhen turned his head, watching his eyes shut tight, still looking rather distressed. He sighed silently.

Then, he smiled a helpless smile.

Despite rolling around and acting cute, begging for forgiveness the entire time, on the matter of principle, Han Fu hadn’t yielded an inch today—he hadn’t accepted the relabeled perfume. Even though, in any previous argument, he habitually took all the blame onto himself.

So, he actually had that much backbone. It was a bit of a surprise.

Yet somehow… it made Pei Zhen like him even more.

With that thought, he felt much calmer.

In truth, how could he ever feel proud of such a scheme—swapping one thing for another, using a false name? It was just the old truth that the young see right and wrong, while adults weigh pros and cons. He had simply been at his wit’s end, unable to think of any other way.

He knew perfectly well that, at Han Fu’s current skill level, even with potential genius lurking beneath the surface, his time studying fragrance was simply too short. He was nowhere near capable of independently creating a complete perfume.

If he truly let Han Fu fumble on his own, there was a 100% chance he’d miss Lister’s deadline. The result: no PA qualification, no participation in the competition…

So what if he couldn’t compete? Then he just wouldn’t compete.

Better to let him focus, wholeheartedly, on crafting his very first meaningful, original fragrance—a life milestone.

Who cares how the market reacts, or whether it sells well or not?

As long as he pours his heart into it, works hard, and ends up with a clear conscience, that’s all that matters.

Finally, everything clicked.

Clarity washed over him. Han Fu’s road was truly still long. There was no need to rush, and indeed, he must not be rushed. That first creation, so immensely important to him personally—it could be raw, imperfect, even something he’d later look back on and deem utterly terrible.

But it absolutely, positively had to be something he’d completed independently, with his own hands.

And Pei Zhen himself—however much he worried about his Little Wolfdog, however much he wanted to step in and help—this was the one thing he was destined never to casually interfere with.

His heart settled, and his gaze slowly drifted towards the window.

Tree shadows swayed in the pale moonlight, casting a crisscross pattern of window-frame silhouettes onto the bedding.

Pei Zhen turned his head back. Thinking of all the Little Wolfdog’s wronged, pitiful looks from before, he felt a pang of remorse. He reached out and gently stroked him a few times.

As it turned out, the Little Wolfdog hadn’t been sleeping at all.

“Zhenzhen~” Completely crestfallen moments before, the instant Pei Zhen touched him, his dark eyes lit up like twin stars, instantly resurrected to full health.

He shifted across the vast bed at lightning speed, using that heart-meltingly tender puppy-dog voice to call out “Zhenzhen,” “Zhenzhen” over and over. As if that wasn’t enough, he simply burrito’d the man in the blankets, crawled on top of him, rubbed him fiercely, wriggled some more, and finally settled down, thoroughly content.

Pei Zhen stared at the ceiling, silently remembering his ancient decree: “Each utterance of ‘Zhenzhen’ incurs a fine of fifty yuan.”

Forget it. He wouldn’t bring it up. He’d pretend it never existed.

Last month, his Little Wolfdog’s salary had been docked down to four digits, and he still hadn’t learned his lesson. If Pei Zhen kept nitpicking with him this month too, he was afraid the man would truly end up working for free every day… and still owing money on top of that.

Resigned, he freed a hand and patted the Little Wolfdog’s back.

Result: this proved to be a terrible, terrible decision. The Little Wolfdog, who had just relaxed his nerves from a state of anxiety straight into one of carefree ease, was patted like a baby by Pei Zhen. So comforted, he instantly dropped into a deep sleep within a single second.

Pei Zhen: “…”

Get off me! The full weight of your thighs and body, you damn dog—it’s so heavy!

Can’t breathe, the Sugar Daddy’s being crushed to death.