ManyWriters

On our wedding day, my fiancé publicly called off the marriage, using a million-dollar endorsement deal for his pure love as a bride price.
As I was being mocked by the crowd, my childhood sweetheart from a medical dynasty family returned from studying abroad.
He knelt and presented me with 9,999 flaming roses, along with a ten-billion-dollar bride price, proposing marriage.
Grateful for his appearance, I immediately accepted.
Three months into my pregnancy, there was an accident in the lab, and my childhood sweetheart personally performed my surgery.
When I woke up, he choked up as he told me the baby couldn't be saved, and my olfactory cells were permanently damaged - I would never be able to smell any scent again.
I was devastated. My childhood sweetheart held me tightly, vowing to protect me for life and let me be his one and only princess forever.
But six years later, I accidentally overheard his conversation with his assistant:
"Mr. Grey, for Vivienne's sake, you not only helped her fake the perfume formula, but also deliberately released toxins in the lab to make Melody miscarry, using that not-yet-formed fetus as an ingredient for her. Was it worth it?" "Vivienne hasn't been able to create a new fragrance since losing her sense of smell! She cries all day and looks haggard! Do you really want to stand by and watch such a talented and outstanding woman fall from grace?"
"I only regret that this child was premature and not pure enough. Otherwise, Vivienne's limited edition perfume would have gone down in history!"
What I thought was true love turned out to be a long-planned trap to steal my essence.

My Husband Turned Our Miscarried Embryo into Perfume

"Foolish child, perfumery doesn't necessarily rely on smell! When I received your thesis, I knew your understanding of fragrances had already transcended the senses."


"I specifically invited you here because I've discovered a new method of perfume creation. Your experience might help more people like you."


"Don't waste your talent. Your mother has always been proud of you."


Then, the female dean took me on a tour of the special fragrance research lab.


At a workbench, a young researcher was busy at work.


Her name was Anna, a perfumer born without a sense of smell.


Yet, through her study of molecular structures of fragrances, she had created stunning pieces.


For some reason, her eyes reminded me of my own longing when I was pregnant.


It turns out, losing your sense of smell doesn't mean giving up on your dreams.


A few months later, I had fully adjusted to life here.


Every day, I research fragrance theory in the lab, and occasionally attend Anna's classes.


Chapter 8