What an easy and effervescent shrub. With the hilarious second name: Ligustrum quihoui. That's "kwee-WHO-ee". Don't be afraid of going high-and-flutey with your voice on the "Who" either, almost like a one-syllable yodel. When do you have the opportunity otherwise, not least while speaking Latin?
Yes, quihoui is a privet—but it's the one to grow for the flowers.
Long fluffy spires of them, as white as astilbes but a month and more later. And, of course, gracing a privet not a perennial, so you can have your white plumes of flowers at, so to speak, various elevations. I'm training my tall and adolescent quihoui into a standard. It's well back in my Mixed Border, so if it's not six or eight feet and higher, it won't even show. It's high enough now, and just needs some time to fill out its head. (So do adolescents of every species.) Because this ligustrum, like all privets, blooms at the tips of the new growth, a serious Spring pruning (and the increased branching-out that it inspires, and the (somewhat) later blooming that results) is all to the better. Perhaps I'll grow mine as a pollard instead of letting it fill out top to bottom. Although I love how this waist-high twig is in bloom right through adjacent leaves of a Ligularia palmatilobum clump...
...a huge and high white ball of flowers is (possibly) even more startling than a huge white column of flower. Somewhere, someday, for a client I'll spec a hedge of Ligustrum quihoui: What an astounding show to have a perfect and dense wall of this floral display top-to-bottom, side-to-side? Wherever you plant your quihoui, try to have it close enough to see the narrow, almost rosemary-like leaves.
They bring an almost coniferous-like texture to a shrub that is clearly anything but.