Mu Xia lowered her lashes, schooling her expression into a mask of perfect composure. Gathering the hem of her gown in both hands, she took the first step down. The first thing the crowd saw was a single, exquisite foot, shod in a Jimmy Choo heel. The exposed toes were small and perfect, the ankle so slender it seemed a single hand could encircle it. Under the lights, her skin seemed to possess a soft, pearlescent glow. That single foot was enough to send their imaginations soaring. Even Situ Qingshan was stunned to discover that someone’s feet could be so beautiful they belonged in a modeling campaign. She subconsciously glanced at the guests’ reactions; several of the men were practically drooling. Then she looked at Ye Sijue. His dark eyes, too, were fixed on that foot. A wave of indescribable dread washed over Situ Qingshan. But it vanished in an instant, replaced by her previous anticipation. She was here to watch a show, after all. So what if she had a nice foot? Once Mu Xia’s whole body was in view, those men wouldn't be drooling; they'd be gagging. The thought had barely crossed her mind when she noticed Mu Xia had picked up her pace, descending the stairs more quickly. *That’s right!* *Go faster!* Even she had to be careful in heels that high. There was no way Mu Xia wouldn't take a tumble. It would be perfect if she tripped right now and came rolling down the stairs. But to Situ Qingshan’s surprise, not only did Mu Xia not fall, she moved with a swift, steady grace. The tall, thin heel of her shoe struck each step with the stability of a nail being driven into a board. A fall seemed impossible. Disappointment and disbelief warred within Situ Qingshan. How could she walk so steadily in those heels? What Situ Qingshan didn’t know was that Mu Xia had once worn a mask to fill in for a supermodel friend on an international runway. She had walked in fifteen-centimeter stilettos before; a mere ten centimeters was child’s play. Situ Qingshan suddenly recalled seeing some country temple fairs on TV, where people wore ridiculous masks and walked on wooden stilts. Perhaps Mu Xia had experience on those laughable stilts? Just then, Mu Xia’s waist came into view, so narrow it looked as if a single hand could snap it in two. When she had first stepped off the helicopter, her clothes had been so large and dirty that her figure was completely hidden. Situ Qingshan never imagined she could be this thin. So thin it made her jealous. But what good was being thin? With a plain, ugly face, a man would probably have to turn out the lights to even tolerate her. The jealousy in Situ Qingshan’s heart quickly faded, replaced by a single thought: *Faster! Go faster!* As if granting her wish, Mu Xia seemed to accelerate again. Situ Qingshan saw long, slender arms, their lines fluid and graceful. Then came a lovely collarbone, an elegant, swan-like neck… As more of Mu Xia was revealed, Situ Qingshan’s fists clenched tighter at her sides, though she didn’t know why. She was nervous, but she couldn’t name the source of her anxiety. Finally, Situ Qingshan saw Mu Xia’s face. It was a delicate, palm-sized face. Her features were three-dimensional, each one flawless on its own. But together, they formed a face of such devastating beauty that Situ Qingshan had never seen its equal. Her eyes, in particular, seemed to shimmer with the faint light of a midnight moon. They weren't eyes; they were a pair of priceless gems. Breathtaking, devastating, a face that could launch a thousand ships… In that instant, every idiom for describing beauty Situ Qingshan had ever known flashed through her mind. And yet, none of them came close to doing Mu Xia justice. Was this… Mu Xia? Was this really Mu Xia?! She had a face like *that*? Situ Qingshan’s complexion instantly turned ashen, then darkened, before flushing a furious crimson. Mu Xia was this beautiful, and she herself had given her an expensive, perfect gown that suited her to a tee? A storm of shock, regret, jealousy, and anger churned inside her, and Situ Qingshan felt like she was about to explode. She was losing her mind! She was going to scream! Situ Qingshan’s face had turned a mottled shade of purple. She couldn’t even bear to look at Mu Xia anymore, because the comparison filled her with a sense of utter inadequacy. She turned to gauge the crowd’s reaction. Every single guest was frozen, as if under a spell, their eyes locked on Mu Xia, following her every move. They were completely enchanted. As for Ye Sijue, a flicker of an emotion Situ Qingshan couldn’t decipher crossed his usually impassive face. Was that… awe? Had even a man like Ye Sijue been stunned by her beauty? Mu Xinyue was also dumbstruck. She had always known that her short-lived sister possessed a divine, unparalleled beauty. But she never imagined that Mu Wanyue's daughter, raised in the countryside, would not only fail to be ruined by her upbringing but would actually surpass her mother. At this rate… Mu Xia could crush her own daughter with her face alone! Mu Xinyue’s gaze immediately shot to Situ Hai. His eyes were wide and transfixed, but as Mu Xia's father, his expression lacked the covetous desire of the other male guests. Instead, a sharp, calculating glint shone in his eyes. Knowing Situ Hai as she did, Mu Xinyue was certain he felt as if he had just discovered a priceless treasure. He must be ecstatic to suddenly have a daughter of such exquisite beauty. This would not do. She couldn't let Mu Xia steal an ounce of the affection that belonged to her and her daughter. She had underestimated Mu Xia. She could not let her stay. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, Mu Xia turned to look at the expression on her “dear sister’s” face. Situ Qingshan’s features were twisted into a grotesque mask, her appearance having clearly shattered all of Situ Qingshan’s expectations. Mu Xia was certain that if the hall weren't filled with people, Situ Qingshan would have already lunged forward to claw at her face. A girl’s jealousy could sometimes be more destructive than an atomic bomb. Mu Xia, pretending to be oblivious, glided over with a beaming smile. “Happy birthday, sister. But what’s wrong? You don’t look so well. Are you feeling alright?” Her voice was as clear and pleasant as silver bells, like the sound of a babbling brook carrying a sweet chime. But to Situ Qingshan’s ears, it grated like a saw on metal. Situ Qingshan struggled to maintain a semblance of composure, forcing a dry, brittle smile. “No, I’m… fine.” “I’m glad to hear it. By the way, this dress you lent me is so beautiful. It’s a perfect fit.” She deliberately stressed the words “perfect fit.” The barb hit its mark. For a moment, it felt as though all the blood in Situ Qingshan’s body reversed course before surging straight to her head. *She did it on purpose!* *Mu Xia definitely did it on purpose!* “You…” Situ Qingshan opened her mouth to retort, but the words wouldn’t come. Her vision swam. And then, in a fit of pure, unadulterated rage, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed. “Ah… Sister!” Mu Xia hadn’t expected Situ Qingshan to actually faint. She instinctively reached out to catch her, but she was a second too late. With a heavy thud, Situ Qingshan hit the floor.