Zhou Yan was sentenced to life in prison with a reprieve. In jail, he tried to develop a "repentance perfume," but he lost his way, seeking to control the other inmates with it—and the prison banned his research entirely.
He sent a message through a go-between, demanding I help him continue his research, or he would expose the detail that I had intentionally increased the concentration of the hallucinogenic spice powder back then.
I visited him in prison regularly, but I refused to help him make the control perfume. Instead, I sprayed the soothing perfume on him every time I went. "True repentance is not about controlling others. It's about admitting your mistakes, about making amends in the right way."
Slowly, Zhou Yan came to his senses. He cooperated with psychological counseling, confessed all his crimes, and even helped the other inmates reflect on their own mistakes.
I, too, stopped running from the past—from the fire, from my foster father, from Zhou Yan. Every time the memories surged, I crafted a little more of the soothing perfume, calming my emotions, reconciling with myself.
Some people questioned me, calling me a criminal with a record, accusing me of using underhanded methods. I did not explain. I only continued to use my perfumes to help people with psychological trauma, to help the children at the orphanage.
As time passed, the doubts faded, and recognition came. I donated the healing perfumes to the orphanage, to all who needed them.
I finally let go of the hatred, let go of the past, let go of all the pain. I had stepped out of the prison of scents, and out of the prison of my heart.
I used my sense of smell, my hands, my craft—to warm myself, and to warm others.
This is my ultimate redemption.