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Reborn three years ago, it was the day I first created the perfume called "First Love" for Julian Lancaster's "Muse," Serena Sullivan.

I was sitting in front of the aromatherapy table, my nose surrounded by the intertwining scents of Cymbell roses and white musk, with a sealed sample placed beside me.

Julian Lancaster stood right in front of me, his handsome face showing the gentle smile I was once most enamored with.

"Clara, thank you for your hard work. Serena said she's been out of inspiration lately, but with your 'First Love,' she will definitely be able to design the best works."

At his words, I looked up, meeting his deep eyes.

My heart suddenly ached, the scorching pain from being engulfed by fire in my past life, mixed with his cold words "let her burn clean," flooded my mind like a tide.

In my past life, as the only heir of the Everard Family of perfumers, I fell in love with Julian Lancaster, a senior without any background, at first sight.

For him, I rejected all top perfume company offers and resolutely used the Everard Family's name and resources to help him establish the brand "Aethel."

I thought he loved me, my person, my soul.

But I was wrong.

What he loved was never me, but my nose that could bring him endless wealth.

Once the brand was on track, under the guise of "protecting a national treasure-level aromatherapist," he trapped me in this suburban villa.

I became his caged tool, day after day providing creativity and fragrance bases for Serena Sullivan, that plagiarizing "genius designer."

I watched him holding Serena Sullivan's hand under the spotlight, announcing to the world that Serena Sullivan was his one and only Muse;

watched him use the perfumes I created to earn trophy after trophy for Serena, paving her a floral path to the altars;

further watched him use the money I earned to buy Serena a castle in Valoria, a mansion in Vesperia, making her the envy of women worldwide.

While all I received were his occasional returns, with a weightless "Clara, thank you for your hard work."

Until I, from years of excessive use, gradually lost my sense of smell, unable to create perfumes that amazed him.

He, without hesitation, used a big fire to burn me and what little I had left to the ground.

At the moment of death, I completely awoke.

I realized how outrageously wrong I was.

Julian Lancaster and Serena Sullivan, one greedy, one deceitful, they were truly a match made in heaven.

I should not have blinded myself for so-called love, offering up my family's skills and dignity to these scoundrels.

The love that is forced is not only bitter but deadly.

It's a pity it took a whole life for me to learn this lesson.

"Clara? What's wrong?" Julian's voice interrupted my thoughts.

He took that bottle of "First Love" sample and was about to leave.

I called out to him.

"Julian, about the cooperation agreement..."

He paused, thinking I was rushing him, his voice still gentle but with an undertone of commanding irrefutability.

"Don't worry, since I promised to marry you, I won't go back on my word. I've already had legal draft the agreement, sign it, and once 'Aethel' goes public, you'll rightfully be Mrs. Lancaster. I need to deliver this 'First Love' to Serena; sign the papers and wait for me to come back."

:

I remember in my past life, I signed that "contract of selling my soul" which completely imprisoned me.

No flowers, no ring, not even a formal proposal, yet I was happy to accept it.

Watching his eager back, I lowered my eyes and smiled self-mockingly.

What I mean is, let's forget about our cooperation.

In this life, I won't give you the chance to destroy me and everything I have.

I picked up an unlabelled bottle of iris root extract from the perfume station.

Iris root is a fixative in perfumery and also one of the most potent organic solvents.

The paper agreement on the table was instantly corroded into a large hole, emitting a pungent smell.

I looked at the USB drive left by Julian Lancaster on the table.

It contained the electronic version of the agreement.

A cold smile curved on my lips.

I opened the computer and changed the beneficiary section in the agreement from "Julian Lancaster" to the name of an overseas wildlife conservation fund I had anonymously set up.

Then, I opened the gift box containing the sample of "First Love," took out the perfume, and replaced it with one I had blended myself, "Return to Nature."

Its top notes were Cymbell roses and white musk, exactly the same as "First Love."

But three minutes later, its middle and base notes would transform into an extremely pungent, cheap synthetic industrial fragrance.

Enough to ruin any "genius designer's" career.

After doing all this, I put the USB drive and the gift box back exactly as they were.

Julian Lancaster, Serena Sullivan.

In this life, I will no longer covet things that do not belong to me.

I will lift you to the pedestal you dream of and then let you fall hard from the highest point.

I sent Julian a message, telling him the agreement was signed and everything was left in the mailbox by the door.

His reply came quickly, just one word.

"Okay."

I looked at that word and laughed.

I knew he must be with Serena Sullivan now, tenderly and lovingly, admiring the work I put my heart and soul into.

In this life, I will no longer guard this cage, waiting for his occasional crumbs.

I packed my luggage briefly and drove back to my home in the city.

The next day, I went to a spice plantation owned by my family.

At the entrance, I saw my father's old friend, and the head of Everard Fragrances, Uncle Shaw.

He was directing workers to pick the season's newest Damascus roses, his actions skilled and professional.

I watched quietly, remembering in my past life, how I almost broke ties with the entire family because of Julian Lancaster. Uncle Shaw tried to persuade me multiple times, but I turned a deaf ear. In the end, The Everards were annexed by Julian Lancaster and Serena Sullivan together due to my stubbornness, and Uncle Shaw died depressed.

I took a deep breath, calmed my emotions, and walked over.

Uncle Shaw saw me, and his smile froze instantly.

He walked over, looking me up and down with concern, his voice full of fatigue and helplessness, "Child, didn't you say you wouldn't marry anyone but Julian Lancaster and even abandoned your family? How come you still know to come back?"

His eyes were full of red veins, his tone carrying a kind of regret for my lack of resolve.

I didn't say much and simply handed over a prepared share transfer intention document.

"Uncle Shaw, I came back to tell you that I'm prepared to give up all my shares over there at 'Aethel'."

Uncle Shaw's gaze swept over me heavily, his voice cold.

"Shut up! Serena just won an international perfume design award and is famous now. You want to give up the shares now—so she would think you're jealous of her behind her back?"

Oh, right, Serena Sullivan is also Uncle Shaw's distant niece. It was Uncle Shaw who introduced her to me as my assistant back then.

"Uncle Shaw, that's not what I mean, I want to transfer the shares to..."

I wanted to explain, but before I finished saying "you," he interrupted me in a low voice.

"That's enough. I don't care what dispute you and Julian are having; Aethel was brought up single-handedly by you, and it's the Everard Family's hard work! You'd better have some sense and not let your father be uneasy even in Heaven!"

After saying this, he didn't even look at the intention document, turned around, and walked into the depths of the flower fields.

Seeing him unwilling to listen anymore, I gave up on explaining.

Anyway, I'm planning to leave. He will eventually find out what kind of person he prides his niece on.

I didn't linger any longer and turned to leave.

A few workers who were resting gathered together and chatted.

"Did you hear? That designer Serena Sullivan is our Mr. Shaw's niece. She's really amazing. She just won the 'Golden Pear Blossom' international design award a few days ago, and I heard the chairman of the judging panel praised her on the spot as a once-in-a-century genius."

"Isn't it? Not only does she have talent, but she also has good fortune. Her fiancé, Mr. Lancaster of Aethel Group, to support her, forcibly transformed an obscure brand into a domestic front-line. I heard that to make her win this time, Mr. Lancaster spent tens of millions just on PR costs. Marrying a man like this, it's just too fortunate!"

I listened quietly.

Julian Lancaster indeed loved her deeply as they said.

He poured all his resources into Serena Sullivan, even at the cost of using my talent and hard work to pave the way for her.

He really "loved" her.

But this time, he doesn't need to spend any more effort. Because I have personally returned this "glory" to Serena Sullivan.

And I won't repeat the same mistakes.

With this thought in mind, I went directly to the airport.