Cen Zhi looked at the daughter who had somehow grown up without him noticing.
Her whole being emanated a cold detachment, her conversations plain and to the point, exactly as one would talk to a stranger, without a hint of charm.
Yet, she stood tall and straight, reminiscent of her father.
He remembered when Mo Shangjun was just born, she was extremely adorable and would laugh and play with anyone. Back then, a young Mo Shangshuang wouldn't leave her side and wished she could spend every moment of the day with her.
It felt like in the blink of an eye, Mo Shangjun had grown up, and he didn't even know how that baby had turned into the person before him now.
Raising his hand, Cen Zhi took off Mo Shangjun's training cap.
Her short, slightly tousled hair was soft and supple. A few strands fell forward, concealing her smooth and ample forehead, her long and attractive phoenix eyes looking straight ahead, clear and cold, devoid of any emotion, and so bright they were almost blinding.
