Larissa’s confidence returned. “Cecilia. I’llpete against you.”


    A faint, knowing smile lifted the corners of Cecilia’s lips. One look at Larissa told her exactly what she was thinking.


    That’s exactly the effect she wanted.


    She didn’t argue, but asked Eldridge to help set things up.


    After consulting Sir, Eldridge brought out a long table.


    Two sets of perfume ingredientsy on the table.


    Everyone watched with great interest.


    Eldridge asked, “Anything else to add?”


    Larissa proposed, “I suggest each of us chooses a theme and creates based on that. Fairer, don’t you think, Ms. Zamora?”


    She worried Cecilia might use the Holiday Series perfume to win.


    “Fine.”


    Cecilia had no objections.


    Wesley disagreed. “Larissa, that’s enough.”


    Larissa replied confidently, “Brother, I’ll prove myself.”


    True to form, Cecilia picked a theme from the Agricultural Almanac System.


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    “The Winter Solstice.”


    Larissa thought, Just as expected.


    Thanks to her cleverness, she’d added that extra rule.


    She offered her own theme.


    “Moonlight.”


    Cecilia epted.


    Both began crafting their perfumes.


    Nobody took their eyes off them.


    Larissa measured ingredients precisely down to grams or milliliters, while Cecilia used no measuring tools at all, relying solely on instinct.


    “Doesn’t it seem like Ms. Zamora’s just messing around?”


    “Absolutely. How can anything goode from such carelessness?”


    After all, even a single drop of spice can make a huge difference in


    scent.


    They are extremely careful when blending perfumes, not daring to use even a bit extra.


    Cecilia ispletely reckless.


    Larissa heard those words, and she became more confident in herself.


    But Cecilia acted as if she hadn’t heard, just continuing to add a bit


    here and there.


    Sir watched, his eyes full of nostalgia.


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    Once, Gwendolyn Wilkinson was the same; she disdained using measuring tools and preferred to mix freely.


    The scents that different spices created when they collided due to varying amounts fascinated her.


    Clearly, Cecilia is the same.


    Tears welled in Sir’s eyes; he saw Gwendolyn’s shadow in Cecilia.


    Cecilia and Larissa had almost simultaneouslypleted their


    creations.


    The trays were ced before Sir.


    He sampled each fragrance meticulously, yet instead of announcing his verdict, he randomly invited ten individuals to join the evaluation.


    After all had experienced the scents, Sir instructed them to stand beside their preferred perfumer.


    Within three seconds, every person aligned themselves behind Cecilia.


    Whether it was “Winter Solstice” or “Moonlight,” Larissa stood utterly


    alone.


    She clenched her palms, disbelief etching her features.


    “Impossible.”


    She refused to ept this oue.


    Stepping forward, she lifted the perfume Cecilia had crafted and inhaled deeply.


    The next instant, the bottle slipped from her grasp.


    It shattered into pieces on the floor.


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    Her face drained of color as she staggered backward.


    How? How could Cecilia possibly create a perfume of such exceptional quality?


    Winter Solstice captured the ethereal scent of snow.


    Moonlight embodied an elegant, pristine chill.


    She couldn’t even bring herself to smell her own creation again


    Eldridge dered Cecilia the winner.


    No one questioned Cecilia’s perfumery skills anymore.


    Humiliated, Larissa forced a smile. “I’ve been outmatched. Congrattions.”


    She turned to leave.


    “Wait.”


    Cecilia’s voice stopped her.


    Larissa already knew what wasing. She wanted to leave, but after just two steps, Luciano Wilkinson blocked her path.


    Behind her, Cecilia’s voice cut through the air like ice.


    “Larissa, do you think you deserve the Holiday Series perfume?”


    Her words were frigid and unyielding.


    Ever since learning the Holiday Series perfume bore Larissa’s name, sleep had abandoned Cecilia.


    Yet she’d found no chance to reim what was rightfully Prisci’s.


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    She could only wait.


    And now, that day had finally arrived.


    Step by deliberate step, Cecilia advanced toward Larissa.


    Her gaze sharp as knives, she looked ready to cut Larissa into a thousand pieces.


    “Larissa, the Holiday Series perfume was Prisci’s creation! How dare you put your name on it?”


    “You never visited her while she lived. Never called her ‘sister.‘ What gives you the right to steal her perfume?”


    “I…” Larissa’s voice failed her.


    Her past smugness now mirrored by present humiliation.


    Yet Cecilia had no standing to interrogate her.


    Larissa’s eyes reddening, she abandoned all thought of retreat.


    Facing Cecilia squarely, she fired back: “Aren’t you unting her identity and perfume forms everywhere too?


    What right do you have to question me?”


    Cecilia wasn’t exactly a saint.


    Cecilia scoffed contemptuously, “So what? Hasn’t the Holiday Series perfume always belonged to Prisci?”


    When sheunched the Holiday Series perfume, she used the name Prisci.


    Later, she never considered changing the creator credit to Cecilia.


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    Larissa elenched her jaw.


    Her dignityy in ruins.


    “Can’t even replicate Winter Solstice, Ms. Wilburn. Are you truly worthy of being called a perfumer?”


    Cecilia sneered, presenting Prisci’s blended perfumes to the onlookers.


    “Let everyone smell your creations. See if any can measure up to Prisci’s Holiday Series masterpiece.”