He's in Detective Conan, and he's the mastermind behind everything.

Ying Sheng pushed himself up and moved his legs. The pain was still there, but it was bearable.

"Willpower is indeed a magical thing, senior. What's the next training exercise?"

Xiao Lan looked up at him, but did not get up.

"Mizuki-kun is very disappointed in me, isn't he?"

"It's like seeing an orchid swaying in the wind by a secluded stream, about to be transplanted into a greenhouse. There are indeed some, but not many. Ultimately, it's your own choice, and it's nobody else's place to comment."

"Others..."

"Everyone in this world except you is someone else."

Seeing Xiaolan deep in thought again, Ying Sheng smiled and said, "I've always liked to talk nonsense. I can talk for an hour with even a homeless person I meet in the park. It's just oral exercise, don't take it too seriously."

Xiao Lan sighed softly and stood up.

"Feel sorry."

"I already said it's nothing. Becoming a detective's assistant is not bad either. From now on, you two will be a husband and wife team."

I'm not interested in mystery novels, so I can't recommend any. Just ask Kudo to give you a reading list; he'll be overjoyed.

As for your dislike...

If you just imagine all those detectives as Kudo, that should be fine; his charisma when solving cases is indeed quite dazzling.

"And so, let's begin the new training."

Xiao Lan's eyes were quite complicated, but since the matter had come to this point, she could only nod emphatically and begin to concentrate fully on guiding Ying Sheng in his training.

Then she discovered that Hotaru was an absolute genius in karate practice. He could learn any move she taught at a glance and quickly apply it to other situations.

"Has Shuiyue-jun practiced this before?" Xiaolan asked curiously.

"Yes, didn't you notice that before?"

"That's just physical flexibility, which is different from systematic training. Mizuki-kun's body looks... well, sorry, there aren't many signs of training."

"Just consider it as me having neglected this for a long time, and now I'm picking it up again and continuing."

Not long after, Xiaolan couldn't help but ask, "Is it because of... low blood sugar?"

"Yes."

Xiaolan pursed her lips, a sense of shared misery welling up in her heart. When her parents first separated, she was also depressed for a long time.

Mizuki-kun's parents must have gone even further, committing suicide by cutting their wrists... After all, she wasn't wrong.

"Mizuki-kun's parents..."

"They've gone on a business trip to a faraway place and won't be back for a long time, so don't worry about them."

"Oh……"

The training continued, and Xiaolan's eyes dimmed slightly; she remained silent. She could clearly sense that Ying Sheng wasn't very enthusiastic.

As for why...

Isn't it obvious?

She's actually a terrible person.

As dusk fell, everyone else in the dojo had already left. Because Xiaolan and Yingsheng were so engrossed in their training, which was really damaging to their confidence, not a single person dared to come over and say hello.

It wasn't until Ying Sheng's weak body finally gave way and he collapsed to the ground, dizzy and disoriented, that they belatedly realized that everything around them was completely silent.

Ying Sheng waved to Xiao Lan, who rushed over to help him, "This time it's really low blood sugar. Do you have any chocolate?"

"Wait a minute, I'll go buy it right away!"

Xiao Lan ran away in a hurry. Ying Sheng stared at the dim ceiling, not thinking about anything. It was as if only a blink of an eye had passed when a chocolate bar with its wrapper unwrapped was handed to him.

Ying Sheng reached out to take it, but before he could even move, the chocolate was placed to his lips.

He had no choice but to open his mouth.

Chew gently, and a hint of sweetness enters your throat.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"It's 6:50 at the store," Xiaolan said.

"You can go now, just leave the key behind."

"How could I possibly leave you here alone?"

"You should also prepare dinner for your father; he might be starving."

"He'll definitely sneak a beer anyway, he won't starve."

"Ha, interesting."

The sugar worked quickly, and Ying Sheng regained a little strength. She forced herself to stand up and staggered toward the locker room.

See you tomorrow, senior.

"Is Shuiyue-kun starting to hate me?" Xiaolan asked in a low voice.

"You're overthinking it. I'm just thinking about where to eat later."

"I don't believe it. Doesn't Mizuki-kun bring his own lunch? He cooks for himself, doesn't he?"

"When you're too tired, you just want to slack off."

Hotaru yawned, went into the changing room, took a quick shower, and changed back into his blue Teitan High School uniform.

He received a missed call on his phone. He called back, but the number was not in service. He shrugged, turned off the light, and left.

"Huh, is the senior still there?"

The Japanese-style sliding door at the club entrance was half-open, and the sky was already tinged with twilight. A blurry figure stood under the red countdown, appearing and disappearing in the distance.

"I will win the championship," she said.

"Oh, best of luck." Ying Sheng smiled politely, picked up his dirty clothes and headed for the door. "I'll be at the venue that day to cheer you on, senior."

"It's not because of Shinichi."

"No, no, that's definitely not it."

"It's not because of you."

Ying Sheng didn't slow her pace at all, and nodded. "Of course it's not because of me. I'm not that self-conscious. You're fighting for your own glory. Keep it up, you'll definitely win."

Ying Sheng stepped out the door, then peeked back in.

"I need to take a taxi home. Is it on my way, Mori-kun? Want to ride together?"

The glimmer of light in her eyes dimmed again, and Xiaolan gently shook her head.

"no need."

"Heh, what are you expecting?"

"No, there isn't."

Has anyone ever told you that you care too much about what others think?

"Am I...doing this wrong?"

"Gentleness, kindness, understanding, and even tea ceremony, flower arrangement, and etiquette. Can you tell me the difference between the so-called 'good marriage style' in Japanese culture and prefrontal lobotomy?"

Xiao Lan remained silent.

"I may be exaggerating a bit, but that's how it is in my eyes."

Hotaru smiled and said, "So, try your best to become Kudo's detective assistant. That's a huge improvement over the fact that you were just a pretty face before."

After saying this, Ying Sheng turned and left, never looking back.

The empty hall remained silent.

Chapter 18 The rain continues, let's have a fight!

The water is flowing.

As Xiaolan put on her beige apron and washed vegetables in the kitchen, she had completely forgotten how she got home and what her father had said earlier.

Inside the living room, a familiar middle-aged man was laughing heartily, and amidst the deafening sound of the television program, occasional silly chuckles could be heard.

"Hehehehe...Miss Yoko..."

What usually follows is a burp.

Over the course of ten years, Xiaolan had witnessed this scene countless times and had long since grown accustomed to it.

But today, she found it inexplicably jarring.

She shook her head, took a deep breath, tried to calm herself, and sped up the preparation of dinner. But by the time she put the food on the table, it was already nine o'clock.

Smack smack—

"Xiao Lan, what's wrong with you? The taste is much worse than usual today."

After wolfing down his food, a disheveled middle-aged man made this comment.

Xiaolan remained silent, clearing away the dishes and then tidying up the room and the detective agency downstairs. There were many mud stains on the floor from somewhere, so she carefully mopped the floor and then opened the window to let it dry. The night was already deep.

Back upstairs, a figure reclining on the sofa was snoring loudly. Xiaolan turned off the TV and took out a thin blanket to cover him.

After washing up and taking a shower, by the time Xiaolan returned to her room and took out her phone, it was already eleven o'clock.

Three hours ago, her best friend Sonoko shared a funny story about what happened in the tennis club: a few people bought a new type of lottery called the Detective Index and lost everything.

Twenty minutes ago, I sent her a ^_^ and a goodnight message.

Nothing else.

Xiaolan closed her phone, lay back on the soft bed, and didn't want to think about anything anymore.

Go to sleep.

The next morning, a light drizzle fell from a slightly overcast sky.