```
Outside the window, thunder roared and the rain poured down, while inside, the doorbell rang tirelessly, nonstop.
Lin An, however, was gazing deeply at Chen Shuyun, with a seriousness he had never shown before.
He licked his lips and simply crouched down, tilting his head in confusion as he looked at the witch on the floor.
Spirituality – he couldn't be mistaken – there was a unique spirituality about Chen Shuyun.
Even without the support of her gaze.
He reached out to touch the witch's limp arm. His fingertips pressed down like they were touching soft cotton, then slid along.
Then, his eyes lit up as he quickly gathered the spiritual energy buried deep within himself to enhance his brain's capacity for careful analysis of the textures at his fingertips.
Soft and smooth, but he could faintly sense an extremely fine scale-like texture, reminiscent of python scales.
