Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

I thought it was a vacuum.

I was terrified.

She patted her chest to calm her racing heart.

I checked the time; he'd been taking a really long shower.

Thinking about what Aozawa might be doing in the bathroom, Ran Mouri felt her face burning and her whole body flushed.

She quickly buried her face in her hands.

I can't think about it, I can't think about it...

Qingze returned to the bedroom, turned on the bedside lamp, and sat up against the headboard.

My phone vibrated; a message had been sent.

[Bai Yu: Rum has [Binga] infiltrate Interpol's [cross-age recognition system] development team to seize technical control of cross-age recognition.]

Qingze frowned.

Cross-age recognition system?

It's a dangerous thing.

Ignore him, stop playing the role of Binga.

If Rum can't find Binga, he'll naturally go to Vermouth.

Infiltration, substitution, disguise—Vermouth is the expert.

He temporarily replaced Binga with Baiyu, only because Binga was needed at that time.

Bai Yu: Understood.

Qingze put away his phone and started planning the days ahead.

Rum has a lot on his plate lately, dealing with the Metropolitan Police Department saga and Interpol, so he can't really take action.

It's really difficult to make someone like that disappear without causing a series of chain reactions.

Chapter 404 sounds like a lot of fun.

In the bedroom, a warm bedside lamp casts a soft glow, illuminating the headboard.

The heating inside was on full blast, keeping out the freezing cold outside and making the room so warm it was almost stuffy.

Qingze leaned against the headboard, slowly turning the pages of his diary, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the already fragile pages.

The more he looked, the more confused he became.

The information conveyed between the lines was like scattered puzzle pieces; instead of piecing together a clear picture, it plunged his thoughts into a chaotic quagmire.

Who is he?

What does it mean to wake up?

What is the ultimate sadness?

The death of parents?

He woke up, but where did Fukuda Tomohiro go?

What about memories?

Where have the memories gone?

Why are there so many mysterious people everywhere? They can't even explain things clearly, they're like riddle tellers.

Unfortunately, the person had already died, and they couldn't be found anywhere.

His worldview was once again violently impacted, jumping from materialism to ideology, which made him extremely uncomfortable.

Although he has accepted the various irrationalities of this world, met a flying witch, and even personally experienced the experience of swapping consciousness with another person.

But he was ultimately a materialist.

As a result, now even one's own existence has become idealistic...

Perhaps we should go and see that witch?

The thought flashed through my mind, but it was accompanied by even deeper doubts.

Why would a witch help him?

How can he be sure the witch doesn't have any ill intentions towards him?

He flipped through the diary again from beginning to end, and between the pages, a forgotten red maple leaf quietly appeared.

The small red maple leaves, dried and flattened by time, seem to have been enchanted, their most splendid moment of life permanently frozen at the moment they were picked.

Decades have passed, yet it has become an eternal record frozen between these yellowed pages.

He carefully picked up the slender leaf stem, gently lifted it from between the pages, and gazed at the maple leaf that had traversed time, his eyes somewhat unfocused.

The maple leaves cast shadows on the paper, merging with the half-broken doodles on the paper to form a complete image.

His gaze fell on the paper, as if a corner of a long-forgotten memory had been uncovered.

"Zhiyu, if Mom wants to create a puzzle that only you can understand, how should you design it?"

"Then let's use something that only the two of us know, something that I will know when I see it."

……

In the morning, sunlight tried to penetrate the heavy curtains. Right on time, Ran Mouri knocked on Aozawa's door.

"Get up!"

I knocked a few times, but there was no response from inside the house.

She gently pushed open the door and peeked inside.

A bulge appeared on the bed, its face completely covered by the blanket, as if determined to live or die with the bed.

She couldn't help but chuckle as she walked to the bedside, reached out her finger, and gently poked the soft hair that was sticking out from under the covers.

"It's past eight o'clock, time to get up."

The blanket twitched slightly, and Qingze reached out and completely covered his head.

I don't want to get out of bed, I just want to sleep.

Ran Mouri sat down on the edge of the bed and continued poking him through the blanket.

"What would you like for breakfast? How about toast, and some boiled eggs and corn..."

Qingze sighed, threw off the covers, and was forced to accept the fact that he had to get up.

"It's all right."

Ran Mouri keenly noticed the lingering redness in his eyes and his obvious weariness, and asked with concern:

Didn't sleep well last night?

Her gaze fell on the diary beside her pillow.

Have you been reading your diary the whole time?

"Ah."

Qingze gave a vague reply, sat up, and rubbed his slightly throbbing temples.

Fragmentary memories surfaced, floating in and out of my mind, intermittent and dreamlike, impossible to grasp or see clearly.

As he sat up, the blanket slipped off in front of him, revealing his well-defined, strong chest.

Ran Mouri's gaze was involuntarily drawn to it, and two blushes quietly rose on her cheeks.

Mmm, that looks so tempting.

Want to touch.

Qingze keenly sensed the ulterior motive in her gaze, lowered his eyes slightly, and curled a smile that was neither a smile nor a frown at the corner of his mouth.

"What are you looking at?"

Ran Mouri looked away as if she'd been burned, her eyes darting around nervously. "N-nothing!"

"whispering sound!"

I don't believe you! My face turned red.

Hearing Qingze's hiss, Ran Mouri turned her face away in embarrassment and annoyance.

She went to see what was wrong!

She'll watch!

Her gaze fell on him again with unwavering certainty, tracing the lines of his abdominal muscles downwards...

Then, it was covered by the blanket.

"Do you usually...sleep naked?" she blurted out in a moment of impulse.

Qingze raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Depends on my mood, why?"

The thought that she had also slept in this bed caused Ran Mouri's face to flush red, which instantly spread to her ears.

"Ahem, it's nothing, just asking. I'll go make breakfast, you should get up soon."

With that, he vanished as fast as lightning.

Qingze looked at the door she had closed and tilted his head.

I always get the feeling that she's thinking about something erotic.

He sat on the bed for a while, his gaze unconsciously drifting to the sliver of light filtering through the gap in the curtains.

In the stillness of the early morning, that question resurfaced uncontrollably once again:

Who exactly is he?

After looking at it for a moment, he twitched the corners of his mouth, forming a smile that wasn't really funny.

Who I am is not important.

He whispered to himself, more like a confirmation.

"The important thing is... I am me."

……

After washing up, Qingze picked out clothes in the dressing room.

If you're going out for fun, it's best to wear something casual.

After some picking and choosing, he put together an outfit.

Considering the low temperature in the mountains, I put on a woolen hat that covered my ears and a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

After getting dressed, he stood in front of the full-length mirror and examined himself.

The fluffy hat softened the usual aloofness between his brows and eyes, and the glasses concealed some of his sharpness, adding a touch of calm and artistic flair.

After looking at it for a moment, he picked up a soft cashmere scarf and gloves before turning around and going downstairs.

In the restaurant, Ran Mouri had just set breakfast on the table when she looked up and saw his outfit, her eyes lighting up:

"Huh? Today's style is retro and artsy?"

Qingze strolled leisurely to the dining table and sat down, his tone casual: "Just dressed up. What do you think?"

"He carries a faint sense of melancholy. A melancholic pretty boy!"

"Please describe him as handsome."

Looking at the person whose lips were practically drooling, Ran Mouri smiled indulgently.

"Yes, yes, a melancholy handsome guy."

Leaving the warm indoors and going to the garage, a chill hits you, and your breath condenses into clearly visible wisps of white mist in the cold air.

"It's so cold, the temperature feels even lower."

"The weather forecast says there will be heavy snow this evening."