Season 4 Set

One cap, carved from wood a sunken ship held for over a century, closes all three bottles.

The timber came up harder than wood and softer than stone, and no two pieces are alike — some carry nail holes, some the tunnelling of sea worms.

Under that object sits the season it belongs to: a family whose money came out of timber, and the three generations of women who ran it. The house frames the story as tension and pull rather than harmony, and the three read as variations on one idea — green flowering, the same sap worked cold, warm and bitter in turn.

3 × 30mL — Chai Lee, Chai Na, Chai Ching
Only 60 are in existence.

Damfool writes before he blends. Each release starts as a person — a place, an era, a life with something unresolved in it — and the formula follows the character rather than the other way round. Lord of Tree is drawn from an Ah Cheng novel. Most of the rest are his own.

Nothing in the line shares a signature, and none of them is the lead. The recurring figures are altar keepers, aunties, and people coming home after too long away, closer to the characters met at the edge of a world than to anyone at its centre. The seasons make it literal: Cantonese memory in the first, Fujian in the second, a Macau port town in the third, three generations of one timber family in the fourth.

Behind all of it is one Macanese perfumer at one bench in Chengdu. He builds his own components and tinctures instead of buying them ready-made, and works with materials that are hard to get or specific to one place — aged nutmeg paste from a Penang spice factory running for over a century, Tibetan yak extract that took a year to render.