2049, Chengdu.
Lin Tian's sister Lin Yu died.
Lin Tian resurrected her sister in the live broadcast room. The holographic image perfectly reproduces my sister's voice, expression, and even the angle of her smile. Night Gardenia perfume sold over three million bottles.
Until an anonymous email came with only one word:
Smell.
Lin Tian started to smell something that didn't exist. The smell of night gardenia. Not a perfume. It comes from somewhere else.
She flipped open her sister's old flip phone. The battery is long dead. The screen suddenly lit up. SMS content:
Happy birthday, sister.
Today is her birthday. She forgot.
My sister's last diary entry before her death contained the same sentence.
Lin Tian found out that her sister had participated in a brain-computer interface experiment before her death. Experimental data was deleted.
She followed the clues deeper. You can smell the night gardenia with every step you take. The deeper you go, the thicker it gets. So thick it's suffocating.
What did my sister leave behind?
The night gardenia is about to bloom.
She made a new recipe.
Maybe you can smell it.
