'Gu Yin usually can't get enough of me, wanting to be all lovey-dovey every second of the day. Why does he want to leave me at home by myself this time?'
"What happened?"
An Jin walked over, her voice laced with worry.
Gu Yin pulled her completely into his embrace, his tall, athletic frame leaning over her. He lowered his head and caressed her face. "I'm about to start molting, so I need to rest quietly at home. I can't go out."
That was why he had been so adamant about stopping her from leaving.
If he wasn't by her side, he couldn't rest easy.
An Jin subconsciously nuzzled his hand, then placed her own right hand over his. She felt that the skin of his palm, which was usually firm and smooth, was now somewhat wrinkled and loose.
—Like a withered tree trunk, or a piece of old, slackened cloth.
This was the sign that Gu Yin was about to molt.
