"Where is Ye Lin?"
Just as Ye Lin was about to head back to the estate, a cool, clear voice rang out behind him.
Hearing it, Ye Lin frowned, halted, and turned around.
In the distance, a figure was walking toward him.
Ye Lin looked in the direction of the voice.
Clouds churned like a sea, and heavenly light poured through gaps in the layered clouds, setting off that figure as though a celestial being had descended into the mortal world.
The newcomer was exceptionally tall—taller and more slender than any woman he had ever seen—yet she did not appear coarse in the slightest.
The figure wrapped in that frost-white long gown was proportioned so perfectly it was almost unreal.
Her waist was narrow enough to encircle with one hand; below it were long legs that even the skirt could not conceal, while above it, the line from shoulder to neck curved with ultimate fluidity.
She came treading upon the clouds, her steps unhurried, yet every step seemed to fall upon some invisible rhythm, making it impossible to look away.
Only when she drew closer did Ye Lin make out her face.
Once he saw that face clearly, Ye Lin's eyes narrowed slightly.
Her beauty was beyond reproach.
There was nothing about it that could be faulted.
It was an almost perfect face, exquisite as though the Creator had poured every thought into sculpting this one singular masterpiece.
Her brows were like distant mountains, dark without paint; her eyes were like cold pools, clear even without anger.
Her nose was high and fine without losing its softness. Her lips were pale, thin, and faintly pursed, carrying an innate aloof chill.
Every individual feature was peerless; together, they formed a breathtaking beauty so striking that one scarcely dared look directly at