The emerald-gold pillar of light pierced the gray morning clouds above the convention center.
Inside the Grand Imperial Pavilion, the air shimmered like liquid amber.
In Little Guo’er’s small hands, the nine jade petals of the celestial lotus began to unfurl one by one. Each petal was carved from translucent white nephrite and rimmed with pure golden light.
A gentle, sweet aroma filled the fifty-thousand-square-meter exhibition hall.
It did not smell like common perfume. It smelled of morning dew on lotus leaves, mountain rainfall, and pure celestial vitality.
A visible mist of emerald-gold Wood-Lotus Spiritual Qi rolled outward across the polished marble floorboards like gentle ocean waves.
Little Guo’er gasped softly.
Her tiny cheeks, which had once carried a faint pallor from the winter malnutrition and chronic asthma that Taichu’s medical team had cured back at Sunshine Orphanage in Jiangcheng, flushed with radiant peach-blossom vitality.
