又一个春天到来之际，格雷诺耶跟着佩利西埃在巴黎郊外的花田里漫游。
呼吸之间，他们嗅到薰衣草、森林和阳光的味道，香味和清风混合，美妙地萦绕在他们身边。
上帝给了格雷诺耶无与伦比的嗅觉天赋，接着又将他送到慧眼识珠的伯乐身边。
他成为佩利西埃的助手已经一年了。
自从那一夜格雷诺耶证明了他自己，他就再也不是一个籍籍无名的皮匠学徒，而是正式成了佩利西埃的左右手。
这个阴沉瘦小的半大少年，用一种佩利西埃自己、乃至所有巴黎人都始料未及、难以言传的天才方式，创造出了不可磨灭的奇迹。
现在谁都知道，只有铭刻着佩利西埃家徽标志的产品，才是最精美上乘的高档货，能供给尊贵的公爵夫人们使用，甚至能得到蓬帕杜伯爵夫人或王后殿下的垂青。
而佩利西埃在确认他的价值后，便当机立断，立即赋予了他应有的一切待遇，尽全力留住这个人才。
他是如此看重这个外表上毫不起眼的黑头发小子，以至于众人凭借对勋爵的了解，私下里都猜测，勋爵没结婚也没有孩子，要是格雷诺耶再小几岁，勋爵很可能愿意直接立他为继承人，以后让他全面继承自己的事业。
孤儿出身的格雷诺耶，从未享受过今天这么好的生活，他时时随同在佩利西埃身边，同吃同住，几乎形影不离。
塞纳河畔初遇时，格雷诺耶这可怜的学徒工还衣衫破烂，满手都是粗活重活留下的冻疮或老茧，被沉重的苦役过早压弯了年轻的脊梁。
而现在，他穿着一身洁白如雪的制服，浑身上下浆洗笔挺，脚蹬一双崭新的靴子，脖子上打着蔚蓝领带，整个人异常干净整洁，就连脸上的疤痕都已用粉敷过。
经过如此的遮掩装饰，他现在看上去就是个出身优渥的少年，虽然容貌普通了些，个子也不够高，但仍显得十分体面。
他的个子长高了一些，不过当他抬头凝视前面金发青年高挑的背影时，身量仍然只到他的脊背。
他们漫步在柔软的芳草地上，白羽的鸟儿时不时从天空中掠过，云朵移动，影子也如鸟雀。
不知不觉，前面的佩利西埃忽然停步，伸手一指前方的大片的薰衣草花田，回头对他微笑，“想进去坐坐吗？”
格雷诺耶顺着方向望去，看见一处用于掩在花丛中的一个隐蔽小缺口，想必花农灌溉时就从这里进去。
四野宁静，平坦广阔的土地上，视线所及的近处只有他们两个，而这片薰衣草顶端的穗状花苞大半都未开放，没到收割的时候，现在如果他们躲进去，就能度过一段清净不受打扰的时光。
他们藏了进去。
勋爵此时表现得像个小孩子，拉着格雷诺耶坐在疏松绵软的泥土上，整个人歪过身子，靠在少年的肩头，笑道，“其实是我困了，想睡一会儿。”
青草根茎的微苦气味、泥腥气、近又遥远的各种花香，还有勋爵身上难以具体描述的微微香气，心旷神怡地一齐传入格雷诺耶的鼻端。
佩利西埃把头靠在自己的小助手身上，用一种十分信赖的姿态倚靠着他，很快就睡着了。
几缕卷曲的淡金长发扫在格雷诺耶脖子上，他转头动了动鼻翼，凑到那发丝面前，吞吐着来自佩利西埃的味道。
因他的动作，佩利西埃揽住他肩膀的手臂松了松，整个人慢慢地要从他肩膀上往下滑。
格雷诺耶及时扶住他，一只手插入他的肋下，把他的脑袋固定在自己胸口处。
今天的勋爵也照旧用一条精致的浅紫发带束着一头长发，搭配淡紫色的绒面外衣。
勋爵很爱美，为了保养和光大自己的美貌，每天都保持着规律的作息和健康饮食，出门也要精心打扮。
他对人也十分洁癖，看不得身边的邋遢鬼，但他并不讨厌自然的味道，他可以像现在这样坐在泥土和草屑里，却对杂乱狼藉的房间完全无法容忍。
格雷诺耶悄然解开了他的发带，拨开他蓬松的长卷发，埋头进去，深深吸了一大口，薄荷和焦糖的味道传入他的肺中，格雷诺耶的鼻尖蹭着那如云的金发，感到心里涌起一股难以言喻的满足。
日复一日，佩利西埃身上的味道也有着微妙的不同，不同的心情、不同的洗浴露和须水、衣物和发带上偶尔变动的熏香味，和来自他本人身体深处的味道，都综合起来，成为一种复杂又纯粹的肤香，也一同融入到他的灵魂、他的美之中，让欣赏他成为一种享受。
气味也有高下之分，佩利西埃不是他曾遇到的那个捧杏少女，他是一个男人，但他的味道同样动人心弦。
格雷诺耶闻着他，心里发痒，曾经他掐死了那个女孩，可是她死去之后，气味也消逝无踪，最后只余下尸体**的臭味，气味就像一个人的灵魂，虚无缥缈又确切存在着，他能嗅到，却无法长久地保存。
格雷诺耶的内心贪婪又焦灼，渴望着保留下它们，但现在却又无计可施，他知道自己还需要学习更多，学习如何像萃取花香精华那样，把人体自身的美妙味道单独提取出来，凝固成为一种香水。
未来他或许能做到，但现在他只能又抱紧了一点佩利西埃，将这芳香之源拥在怀中，让他的味道和自己久久相伴。
这漂亮的金发羔羊埋在自己的胸口，佩利西埃的呼吸轻柔平稳，脸颊贴在衬衣纽扣处，偶尔轻轻动弹一两下，将平滑的衣襟压出褶皱。
格雷诺耶挺起身，垂头看他，用手指缓慢地梳理着他金色的长发，另一只手移到他的颈侧，粗糙的指腹和掌心摩挲着勋爵暖玉般白腻的皮肤。
如果他现在用力掐下去，睡梦中的佩利西埃不会有反抗之力，金色的羔羊，它空有黄金般贵重的长毛，却无法想象屠刀的恶意。
如果勋爵知道，自己亲手将一个杀人犯，一个冷血无情、缺乏人性的怪物引入他的生活，并彼此朝夕相伴，他会露出什么样的表情呢？
一丝险恶的弧度从格雷诺耶嘴角勾起，这一年以来，他不无得意地接近着这美丽的猎物。
他为了最美好的气味而生，他要留在他的身边，在这芬芳的味道最美、最成熟、最恰当之时，攫取它，得到它的精华，让它长存在自己身边，彻彻底底地占有它。
薰衣草花田里，苍白瘦弱的少年温存地抱着怀中俊美的男人，身处在如诗如画般的景色，他心里转动着的却是些罪恶又无法言喻的念头，并且越想便越冷静，越坚定。
直到一双臂膀环住他的后腰，佩利西埃双手环扣住他，寻找最舒服的姿势。
但他睡得很深，眼看着脑袋就要滑倒在地，清醒过来，格雷诺耶粗糙的手及时稳稳地托起他，曲起腿，干脆让他枕着自己的胳膊，躺在他用自己身体搭出的摇床中。
现在的佩利西埃更像一个孩子了，简直是个毫无防备也毫无反抗能力的婴儿，只是他的容貌太过闪耀，睡着了也在熠熠生辉。
格雷诺耶悄然低头，和他鼻尖相对，手指探开他红润如樱桃的双唇，去闻他口中的味道，是淡淡的湿润感觉，格雷诺耶用鼻端在他唇边轻蹭，他并无旖旎之心，这动作比起轻薄，更像一只在判断情况的动物。
格雷诺耶闭着眼睛，自得其乐，不多时，又抬起勋爵的脖颈，闻他隐含血液流动的雪白皮肤，脸埋进他深深的锁骨里，嘴唇时不时隔衣碰到男人，如果有第三人在场，一定会误认为他在偷偷亲吻。
但他懂得见好就收，他知道勋爵对于男女接近时一致的厌恶，还不想为此触怒他，在意识到佩利西埃即将醒来时，他便又恢复了正常距离，只充当一个合格的午睡枕头，靠着花丛一动不动。
佩利西埃在他怀里睁眼，一双湖水绿的柔和双瞳，原本还有些朦胧，几秒后便恢复了清醒，那张象牙般的面庞泛着刚醒来的一点红晕，饱满的唇边，又扬起了格雷诺耶熟悉的、致命的微笑。
“你一直守着我吗？”年轻男人用修长纤细的手指摸了摸格雷诺耶苍白矫饰的脸，他的养尊处优的手指触感细腻，被他抚摸，就像被繁多的花瓣簇拥着。
格雷诺耶喉咙发干，点点头。
佩利西埃笑笑，理了理衣服，坐起身，当先走出了花丛。
他似乎没有发现自己头发散开，丢了发带，格雷诺耶便悄悄地将那条绸带拾起，快速塞进自己的外套口袋。
佩利西埃并不清楚得力助手那些黑暗又隐秘的小心思，只是一如既往地信任他，和他同进同出，形影不离。
因而他也就不知道，每个早晨，总是提前醒来的格雷诺耶，殷勤地替他梳好头发、系上发带后，会不着痕迹地一捋檀木梳子上残留的发丝，然后飞快地藏入口袋。
佩利西埃平日喜欢穿来自东方的丝绸睡衣，轻薄丝滑，但最近，洗衣妇们总是很容易就将脆弱的衣袍泡皱、变形乃至撕裂。
佩利西埃不在意这种小事，又多买了些睡袍，偶尔穿坏几件，当格雷诺耶问可不可以送给他时，也大方地表示同意。
他以为格雷诺耶会交给洗衣妇洗净了再穿，完全不知道衣服的事背地里全是格雷诺耶搞的鬼。
格雷诺耶现在正沉迷于收集他的贴身物品，因为它们身上还缭绕着他的味道。
他已经开始摸索新的制香方法，这个佩利西埃知道，甚至还在和他一起研究学习，但佩利西埃从不清楚，得力助手内心的唯一目标，实际上正是自己。
夏日的一个深夜，灯光已经熄灭，他们正在一座沿海的小城里旅行，住在勋爵父母早年买下的一座小庄园里。
佩利西埃在卧室里熟睡，在梦中，他发泄着夏天躁动的**，他梦见一个少年，苍白、瘦削、眼神倔强，他觉得熟悉，却忘了他的名字，只是沉沉地走过去，……
他压制着少年，他们一起滚倒在柔软的芳草丛中，把这里当做伊甸园，他们是亚当和蛇，蛇诱骗人类品尝了禁果，随后化身为人，又引诱他堕入**。
……
他制着少年单薄的双手手腕，附身狠狠吮吸着少年口中的津液，动情又饥渴地和他交换着甘霖。
……
这时他才舒爽地喘了一口气，手指松了松，这场真实的春梦似乎也在散去，他的指尖触到了毛茸茸又微微硬挺的感觉。
佩利西埃半梦半醒，觉得好摸，便像打猎时摸小野兔那样，抚摸着那毛发，同时……让他不由自主地轻叹一声，声音婉转悦耳，又饱含**，简直是湿漉漉地勾引。
闭着眼睛的佩利西埃看不到，他宽阔的床铺上，被子已经散落一边，格雷诺耶正钻进他的睡袍……
而佩利西埃的手则放在少年的脑袋上，无意识地、嘉奖般地轻轻抚摸着，就像在安抚某种小动物。
As another spring approached, Grenouille accompanied Pelissier on a meandering stroll through the flower fields outside Paris.
With each breath, they inhaled the scents of lavender, forest, and sunshine, the fragrances blending with the gentle breeze to create an enchanting atmosphere around them.
God had endowed Grenouille with an unparalleled olfactory gift and then led him to a discerning patron who recognized his talent. It had been a year since he became Pelissier's assistant.
Since that night when Grenouille proved himself, he was no longer an obscure apprentice tanner but had become Pelissier's right-hand man. The sullen, slender adolescent created wonders in ways that neither Pelissier nor anyone in Paris could have anticipated or easily put into words—a genius that left an indelible mark.
Now everyone knew that only products bearing the emblem of the House of Pelissier were the finest luxury goods, worthy of noble duchesses and even favored by the Countess du Barry or Her Majesty the Queen herself.
Pelissier, having confirmed Grenouille's worth, acted decisively to provide him with all due privileges, doing everything possible to retain this talent. He valued this unremarkable-looking black-haired boy so much that people who knew the lord speculated privately that, given Pelissier's unmarried status and lack of children, if Grenouille had been younger, the lord might have considered naming him as his heir to take over his business entirely.
Grenouille, an orphan, had never experienced such a good life before. He was constantly by Pelissier's side, eating and living together, almost inseparable. When they first met by the Seine, Grenouille was a pitiful apprentice, dressed in rags, his hands calloused from hard labor, and his young spine prematurely bent under the weight of heavy tasks.
Now, he wore spotless white livery, immaculately starched and pressed, with new boots on his feet and a navy blue cravat around his neck. He was impeccably clean and neat, even his scars covered with powder. After such adornment, he looked like a well-born youth, though somewhat plain in appearance and not very tall, yet still respectable.
He had grown taller, but when he looked up at the tall figure of the blond young man ahead, he barely reached his back.
They walked on the soft grassland, where white-feathered birds occasionally flew overhead, and shadows moved like birds across the landscape. Unbeknownst to them, Pelissier suddenly stopped and pointed toward a vast field of lavender, turning to smile at Grenouille, "Would you like to sit for a while?"
Grenouille followed his gaze and saw a hidden small gap in the flowers, likely used by farmers for irrigation access. The surrounding area was tranquil, and within sight, there were only the two of them on the expansive flat land. Most of the lavender's spike-like buds had not yet bloomed, and it was not yet time for harvest. If they hid inside now, they would enjoy a peaceful, undisturbed moment.
They slipped into the field.
At this moment, the lord behaved like a child, pulling Grenouille to sit on the loose, soft earth, leaning against the boy’s shoulder, and said with a laugh, "Actually, I'm just sleepy and want to rest for a while."
The faintly bitter scent of grass roots, the earthy smell of damp soil, the nearby yet distant fragrance of various flowers, and the subtle, indescribable aroma emanating from the lord—all these scents filled Grenouille's nostrils, bringing him a sense of exhilaration.
Pelissier rested his head on his young assistant, leaning against him in an attitude of complete trust, and soon fell asleep. A few strands of Pelissier's curly light blond hair brushed against Grenouille's neck. He turned his head slightly, flaring his nostrils to inhale closer to the hair, absorbing Pelissier’s scent.
With this movement, Pelissier's arm that was around Grenouille's shoulder loosened, and he began to slide off. Grenouille steadied him in time, slipping one hand under his ribcage to hold Pelissier's head against his chest.
Today, as usual, Pelissier had tied back his long hair with an elegant pale purple ribbon, complementing his soft velvet outer garment of the same hue. The lord was very particular about his appearance; to maintain and enhance his beauty, he kept a regular schedule and healthy diet, and always dressed meticulously when stepping out.
He had a strong aversion to untidiness but did not dislike natural scents. He could sit among dirt and grass without complaint but could not tolerate a disheveled room. Quietly, Grenouille undid the ribbon, parted the lord's tousled curls, and buried his head in them, taking a deep breath. The scent of mint and caramel filled his lungs. His nose brushed against the cloud-like blond hair, and a profound satisfaction welled up within him.
Each day, Pelissier's scent subtly changed, influenced by his mood, different soaps and colognes, and the occasional variation in the scent of his clothes and ribbons. All these combined into a complex yet pure skin fragrance, intertwined with his soul and beauty, making it a pleasure to admire him.
Scents, too, have their hierarchy. Pelissier was not like the peach girl he had once encountered; he was a man, yet his scent was equally captivating. As Grenouille inhaled, a tickling sensation stirred inside him. Once, he had strangled that girl, but after her death, her scent vanished, leaving only the stench of decay. Scent was like a soul—ethereal yet real, perceivable by him but not preservable.
Grenouille's heart was consumed by greed and anxiety, yearning to preserve these scents. But for now, he was powerless. He knew he still had much to learn, how to extract human essence like flower essences, condensing it into perfume.
One day he might achieve this, but for now, he held Pelissier a little tighter, embracing the source of fragrance, allowing their scents to mingle.
The handsome blond lamb nestled against his chest, Pelissier breathed gently and steadily, his cheek resting against the buttons of Grenouille's shirt, occasionally stirring slightly, creating creases in the smooth fabric.
Grenouille sat up straighter, looking down at him, slowly combing through the golden locks with his fingers, while his other hand moved to the side of Pelissier's neck, his rough fingertips and palm caressing the lord's warm, ivory skin.
If he were to squeeze now, the sleeping Pelissier would have no strength to resist. The golden lamb, with its precious golden fleece, could not fathom the malevolence of the butcher's knife. What expression would Pelissier have if he knew he had introduced a murderer—a cold-blooded, inhuman monster—into his life, living side by side?
A hint of malice curled at the corner of Grenouille's lips. Over the past year, he had approached this beautiful prey with no small amount of pride.
Born for the most exquisite scents, he wanted to remain by his side, capturing the essence of this fragrance at its peak, possessing it entirely.
In the lavender fields, the pale, frail youth embraced the handsome man tenderly, surrounded by picturesque scenery, while harboring unspeakable and wicked thoughts, growing calmer and more resolute with each passing moment.
Until Pelissier's arms encircled Grenouille's waist, clasping him tightly in search of a comfortable position. However, Pelissier slept deeply, and just as his head was about to slip to the ground, waking up, Grenouille's rough hands caught him firmly, bending his legs and letting Pelissier rest his head on his arm, cradled in a makeshift hammock formed by his body.
Now, Pelissier resembled a child, almost a defenseless infant, though his appearance was dazzling even in sleep. Grenouille lowered his head quietly, their noses nearly touching, probing the rosy lips with his fingers, smelling the faint moisture within. He grazed his nose against the lord's lips, an action more animalistic than amorous.
Grenouille closed his eyes, reveling in the moment. Soon, he lifted Pelissier's neck again, inhaling the blood-infused white skin, burying his face in the hollow of his collarbone, occasionally pressing his lips against the fabric covering the man. An observer might have mistaken it for secret kisses.
But Grenouille knew when to stop. Aware of Pelissier's consistent aversion to physical closeness between men and women, he did not want to provoke him. Sensing that Pelissier was about to wake, he resumed his normal distance, serving merely as a proper pillow, motionless amidst the flowers.
Pelissier opened his eyes in Grenouille's embrace, his lake-green eyes initially hazy but quickly regaining clarity. His ivory face flushed slightly from sleep, and his full lips curved into the familiar, lethal smile that Grenouille knew all too well.
"Have you been watching over me all this time?" The young man touched Grenouille's pale, almost artificially fair face with his long, slender fingers.
His pampered fingertips felt delicate, and being caressed by them was like being surrounded by countless petals.
Grenouille's throat went dry, and he nodded.
Pelissier smiled, straightened his clothes, sat up, and was the first to walk out of the flower patch.
He seemed not to notice that his hair had come loose and that he had lost his ribbon.
Grenouille quietly picked up the silk ribbon and quickly tucked it into his coat pocket.
Pelissier was unaware of his assistant's dark and secret thoughts and continued to trust him implicitly, going in and out together, inseparable.
Thus, he did not know that every morning, when Grenouille always woke up before him, he would diligently comb Pelissier's hair and tie the ribbon, then subtly gather the strands left on the sandalwood comb and swiftly hide them in his pocket.
Pelissier usually liked to wear silk nightgowns from the Orient, which were light and smooth. But recently, the laundresses had easily wrinkled, deformed, or even torn the delicate robes.
Pelissier did not mind such trivial matters and bought more nightgowns. Occasionally, when a few were worn out, and Grenouille asked if he could have them, Pelissier generously agreed.
He thought Grenouille would give them to the laundresses to be cleaned before wearing them, completely unaware that the issues with the clothes were all Grenouille's doing.
Grenouille was now obsessed with collecting items that belonged close to Pelissier because they still carried his scent.
He had already begun exploring new methods of perfume-making, something Pelissier knew about and even studied with him.
However, Pelissier never understood that his capable assistant's sole target was actually himself.
On a summer night, with the lights extinguished, they were traveling in a small coastal town, staying at a small estate that the lord's parents had purchased earlier. Pelissier slept soundly in the bedroom...
……
And Pelissier's hand rested on the boy's head, unconsciously stroking it in a gesture of praise, as if soothing some small animal.
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第2章 2、花丛相依