A Corner of Qian Yuhan's Millennium-Long Holy Image Shattered After She Saw Lin Yan's True Face

Qian Yuhan's eyes sparkled.

In truth, she had indeed remembered someone.

Back when the Creator God's incarnation had descended into the mortal world, she had briefly held that boy in her arms.

Those hands had been thin.

His clothes had been worn.

His entire body had carried the chill of wind and snow.

But she had always remembered that face.

Like a white moon hidden within the long years.

Clean, bright, impossible to forget.

Lin Yan fell silent for a moment.

Then, the Creator God form spanning the sea of stars began to dissipate.

The radiance faded.

His immense figure shrank, returning to the size of an ordinary person.

He stood before Qian Yuhan, still barefoot, still with his eyes closed.

His features were handsome and exquisite.

Every feature looked like a work of art meticulously sculpted by the Creator's own hand.

But his hair was a mess.

His face was pale, with dark circles beneath his eyes.

He looked as though he had not slept well and could collapse at any moment.

Where was the terrifying presence that had spanned the sea of stars and overlooked entire eras just moments ago?

Qian Yuhan stared blankly.

She stared at him for a long time, then suddenly burst into laughter.

"I never thought this was what a god would really look like. Why do you look like you haven't slept enough? You have no energy at all."

Lin Yan looked at her expressionlessly.

His face had already been exceptionally beautiful, and that naturally dazed, half-awake look inexplicably made people want to pinch him.

Qian Yuhan suddenly felt that such a thought was far too blasphemous.

Yet no matter what she did, she could not suppress the corners of her mouth.

She suddenly understood why mortals always depicted gods as twisted, indescribable