Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

Lapel pins and cufflinks are like two seals, making one want to break them and peel back the suit and shirt little by little to see the true face beneath.

Ran Mouri suddenly covered her flushed face.

This person looks even more alluring in a suit than if she weren't wearing anything at all!

She tapped the photos rapidly with her finger.

Save! Save!

Qingze waited for a long time, but there was no reply. So he made a video call.

Ran Mouri answered the call hastily, and when she saw the impeccably dressed, meticulous man in the video, her face flushed even more.

Qingze pretended to tug at his collar.

"I thought you were already asleep."

"No...not yet..."

Qingze's gaze fell on her pajamas and her slightly flushed face, and he raised an eyebrow slightly, "Then why didn't you respond to me?"

"I'm admiring the photos!"

"Do you want to admire it for that long?" Before Ran Mouri could answer, he nodded thoughtfully to himself, "Oh, I see, you like uniform fetishes."

No! No!

"You're just trying to cover it up."

Ran Mouri's eyes darted around, and she coughed twice. "Ahem, are you going to wear this tomorrow?"

"I'll wear it if you want to see it." Qingze leaned closer to the camera, his eyes teasing. "Do you want to see?"

Ran Mouri felt that the person in the camera was like a succubus, and she nodded without realizing it.

"You still say you don't like uniform fetishes?"

"Humph~"

╯^╰

"I'm hanging up now. Get some rest. Goodnight."

With that, Qingze hung up the video call.

He took off his suit jacket piece by piece, carefully placed the lapel pin and cufflinks into the box, and went to wash up while humming a cheerful tune.

Ran Mouri felt a pang of regret when she saw the video call end.

She lay back down on the bed, covering half her face with the blanket; her cheeks were still a little hot.

Could she really like the idea of ​​wearing uniforms?

There was definitely a hidden agenda behind her gift of cufflinks.

Cufflinks have a special meaning; when a girl gives a boy cufflinks, it signifies that they are a token of love.

As for the lapel pin, I saw it when I was buying cufflinks. I thought it would look good on him, and since it matched the color of the cufflinks, I bought it as well.

I have to say, it really suits her.

She picked up the photo again to admire it, and unconsciously closed her eyes.

……

While Ran was asleep, many people were still awake.

Vodka sat in front of the computer scrolling through his phone. His older brother was recovering from an injury and didn't need him; it was his time off lately.

I originally wanted to check if any of my favorite stars were having concerts, but somehow I ended up clicking on LINE.

He doesn't have many LINE friends, just the few people he added at the villa last time, and some fan friends he met online.

Then, an excited smile immediately appeared on his previously bored face.

Oh dear, look what this is.

A photo of Koniak and his girlfriend!

The handsome young man and beautiful young woman were bathed in the glow of the setting sun, looking at the camera with gentle and radiant smiles.

As he watched, Vodka's initial schadenfreude turned into a sour feeling.

Their love life is truly enviable.

People even celebrated his birthday!

Damn it!

His gaze shifted to the comments.

More than an hour has passed since the post was published, and the number of likes and comments has already exceeded double digits.

He gave a thumbs-up to prove his existence, opened a bottle of vodka, and fell into emo.

He hasn't celebrated his birthday in years...

Fryward, who is also on Ran Mouri's friend list, saw this post.

She raised an eyebrow slightly.

Is it Koniak's birthday today?

I glanced at the time; the day is almost over.

She walked to the liquor shelf, her fingertips hovering among several dark bottles before finally settling on a bottle of cognac.

Unscrew the cork and pour the amber-colored liquid into the glass.

She picked up the wine glass, and with a slight twist of her wrist, the amber-colored wine, wrapped around ice, rippled in concentric circles on the glass.

A fresh and rich fruity aroma spreads from the glass, the crispness of lemon intertwined with the slight bitterness of orange peel, and also wrapped in a faint floral fragrance.

Smelling the aroma of wine, her gaze fell on the smiling face frozen on the phone screen, and a meaningful smile curved her lips.

The aroma of the young cognac perfectly complemented the sweet-looking face in the photo.

She brought the rim of the glass close to her lips, parted her red lips slightly, and let the wine slide into her mouth.

The icy sensation first washed over the tip of the tongue, suppressing the harshness of the alcohol.

Then, the sweetness of ripe fruit gently unfolds, with layers of apricot and honey flavors building up, and a refreshing tartness in the finish that perfectly balances the sweetness.

The spiciness of the alcohol is perfectly enveloped within, making it smooth and silky on the palate, leaving only warmth and a lingering sensation as it passes through the throat.

She relaxed her body, leaned back in the soft chair, and gently swayed her wrist.

The amber liquid in the glass rippled, and the ice cubes gently touched the glass, making a soft tinkling sound.

"The wine tastes good."

Looking at the wine, a glint of light flashed in her eyes, and her smile deepened.

"I wonder what it tastes like to me personally."

She picked up her phone, took a picture of the glass and the wine, and posted it on social media.

The cognac tastes really good.

Vodka glanced at the newly refreshed status and his gaze fell on the vodka in his hand.

The icy and smooth liquid goes down your throat clean and pure, without any unpleasant aftertaste.

Slightly tipsy, he took a picture and posted it online.

[60-degree water of life, you deserve it.]

Cognac isn't anything special; it has to be vodka to really kick it in.

Vermouth was mixing drinks. She had originally intended to order a martini, but her eyes fell on the vermouth instead.

Absinthe and gin, I wonder what it tastes like.

The bitter, medicinal aroma of wormwood blends with the unique fragrance of juniper berries. Add lemon juice and syrup, pour in a little soda water, and garnish with a slice of lemon peel. A beautiful and delicate glass of wormwood gold is thus created.

She took a small sip of the wine in her glass, shook her head, and sighed.

The wormwood flavor was too strong, overpowering the gin flavor; this wormwood gin was a failure.

She put down her glass and made herself another martini.

This time, it tastes right.

Unfortunately, I can only drink it myself.

She picked up her phone, looked at the various posts, and smiled knowingly.

Then, I posted the two glasses of wine I had on hand.

Absinthe is still not as good as Martini.

Cohen, upon seeing his colleagues' wine tasting notes:

"..."

They usually don't post anything for half a year at a time, so what's gotten into them today?

His gaze fell on the whiskey beside him.

If you're going to drink alcohol, then of course you should drink whiskey.

----------

----------

P.S.: Last time, I used Conan titles for my 50-word book review. Now that I've reached a million words, let's try a different style.

I've come up with some book titles, can you pick five for me?

What are you doing with my body?!

Me, a top-tier assassin, doing your homework?

The assassin is doing his homework in a beautiful girl's body today too.

After switching bodies, the assassin's persona crumbled.

"A healing story meets a depressing one, and it's surprisingly sweet?"

After swapping bodies, a romance storyline was added.

When the assassin inhabits the body of a high school girl

After switching bodies, he became obsessed with love.

...

Chapter 472 A Living Legend

night.

The door to the VIP ward slid open silently, and light fell on the snow-white sheets, outlining the body wrapped in medical equipment on the bed.

Kuroba Touichi walked in slowly.

He was dressed in a black suit, his shirt collar buttoned up meticulously, maintaining his original appearance, and walked to the bedside and stopped.

The elderly man lay on his back in the hospital bed, a transparent oxygen tube extending from the ventilator and firmly fixed to his aged face.

Her skin was so thin it was almost transparent, with bluish-purple veins winding beneath. Her eye sockets were sunken, and her once sharp gaze was now buried beneath wrinkles and loose skin.

The rise and fall of my chest was not instinctive, but rather driven by the rhythm of the machine, one beat after another.

The green line on the electrocardiogram beat steadily and monotonously, like the heartbeat of some kind of machine.

Kuroba Toichi's gaze lingered on the old man's face for a few seconds before slowly shifting to the instruments.

ECG monitor, infusion pump, feeding tubing, breathing tubing...

All these cold metals and plastics form a complex system that barely keeps this body, which could collapse at any moment, on the edge of "living".

He's over 140 years old...

For ordinary people, this number goes beyond the realm of "lifespan" and is more like some kind of abstract legend.

But for this old man, it was just a constantly updated experimental data point—a limit sample proving how long the human body could be extended.