Shen Zhi took her household registration booklet to a matchmaking date, all so she could register her marriage before her grandmother's will expired and inherit an old manual on traditional perfumery.
Across from her sat Xie Huai, a "regular perfumer" who seemed gentle and harmless. Their agreement was clearly written: she would get the manual, and he would get the right to use its formulas.
As she signed, she caught the scent of a perfume on him that had been discontinued three years ago. It was the very first product her brand had ever made.
Only later did she learn the truth: he was the heir to Huaixiang Group, he had stockpiled white gardenias for three years, and he had secretly photographed the notes in her study. From the matchmaking date to their marriage registration, every step had been calculated.
But she couldn't smell white gardenias. Neither could he. The most important ingredient in the formula was, of all things, a flower neither of them could smell.
He could steal the formula, but he couldn't steal the scent she remembered.
