When the day of Seraphina's eighteenth birthday finally arrived, Mo Zenith couldn't take his eyes off his daughter. She seemed radiant, as if her very presence had the power to light up the grand halls of Mount Hua. Her smile was bright, a rare and beautiful departure from her usual composed demeanor.
Her dress was a masterpiece of design—a flowing blue gown that shimmered like frost under moonlight. It framed her silver hair, cascading down her shoulders, and brought out the icy brilliance of her blue eyes, a gift from her late mother. Adorning her was a platinum tiara that rested regally upon her head, paired with a sapphire necklace and earrings that glinted with every turn of her head.
