Ghost house — a woody-balsamic perfume made especially for wearing in the mid-autumn. This is a story about an old wooden house, with thick, soft dust, creaky floorboards, and winding stairs. Wind blowing through a broken window leaf touches the strings of an old grand piano, making them tremble soundly with sadness. Old coarsened bindings tightly hold pages, dry-cured by the adamant time — a blooming bush of wild roses in the autumn garden.