Conan: When Shinjiu and Maolilan swap bodies

Qingze stood up. The coffee on the table had gone cold, but he hadn't touched it at all.

"I've agreed to your cooperation. That's all for today." He adjusted the collar of his coat, his tone as indifferent as if he were talking about something trivial. "I'll contact you when I need it."

Without waiting for Yusaku Kudo's response, he turned and walked towards the door.

His steps were neither hurried nor slow, as if the people behind him, this conversation, and even the fate of the entire organization were none of his concern.

The door opened, and the wind chimes rang once.

A cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed in, swirled in the warm yellow light, and then disappeared without a trace as the door closed.

Yusaku Kudo remained seated, staring at the door.

The snow was still falling outside the window. Through the fogged glass, the black figure gradually receded into the distance, finally swallowed up by the swirling snowflakes, like a drop of ink falling into water, leaving no trace.

He turned his gaze back to the empty chair opposite him.

"Unexpected, yet perfectly logical..."

Yusaku Kudo leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingertips lightly on the table twice.

He closed his eyes.

The clues, like scattered beads, began to roll in the same direction.

Outside the window, the snow is still falling.

Light footsteps sounded, and someone sat down.

Yusaku Kudo opened his eyes.

"Qingze" sat in the spot where Koniak had just been sitting.

That face, so strikingly similar, now exuded a completely different aura.

The light fell on his face, but it lacked the sharpness of Koniak.

It's like one standing in the sunlight and the other walking in the darkness—similar yet completely different.

“Mr. Kudo,” he began, his voice gentler than Koniak’s, “how did the conversation go?”

"Not bad. If you were worried, why didn't you sit next to me earlier?"

Qingze gently shook his head, his gaze falling on the swirling snow outside the window.

“It’s not appropriate,” he said, his tone indifferent, revealing no emotion. “In some situations, my presence would actually be in the way.”

"You care about him a lot."

Qingze's gaze fell on the window; the snow was still falling.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, his voice very faint.

“That’s what blood ties are.” He paused, a cold smile curving his lips. “Whether there are feelings or not, they can’t be severed.”

Chapter 595 We Will Always Love You

Snowflakes fluttered down, silently covering the entire city.

Qingze put his hands in his pockets, pushed open the door, and walked out of the coffee shop. A cold wind hit him in the face, carrying fine snowflakes.

He pulled his hood down, covering most of his face, revealing only a few strands of hair ruffled by the wind. His steps were unhurried, treading on the freshly fallen snow.

Snowflakes landed on my shoulders, then melted quickly, leaving dark water stains on my black coat.

He took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth.

Smoke billowed from his lips, rising upwards in a hazy mist, only to be dispersed without a trace by the wind.

Several pairs of eyes quietly fell on him from the shadows.

He didn't turn around.

"Is that Koniak?"

Conan sat in the car, looking out through the privacy-protected window.

For safety reasons, Yukiko forcibly disguised him as a little girl.

He pressed the button on his glasses frame.

The lens zoomed in, and the black figure seemed almost within reach.

This was the first time Conan met Koniak.

He had heard that code name countless times—in Haibara's descriptions, in Akai's reports, and in all sorts of fragmented intelligence.

He had imagined it many times—brutal, insane, and chilling.

But the person in front of me is completely different.

He had no expression.

Walking in the snow felt like walking in a deserted wilderness. The hood obscured most of his profile, revealing only the outline of his chin and wisps of smoke rising from his lips.

As the smoke dissipated, he lowered his eyes slightly, as if he were thinking about something, or as if he wasn't thinking about anything at all.

Melancholy.

The word suddenly popped into Conan's mind.

He strolled through the swirling snow, feeling as if he were separated from the world by a transparent pane of glass.

"Hmm." Subaru Okiya responded, his gaze also fixed on the figure. His face was expressionless, and it was unclear what he was thinking.

The coffee shop door was pushed open again.

Kudo Yusaku came out, followed by Aozawa.

Seeing that his father was safe and sound, Conan's tense shoulders relaxed slightly. His gaze passed over his father and landed on the person next to him.

Qingze stood at the door, not taking a step immediately.

His gaze passed over the falling snow and landed on the black figure gradually disappearing into the distance.

The figure had already walked quite far and was about to disappear around the street corner.

He just watched from afar.

His face was expressionless; he just stared.

It's like looking at a stranger. Or like looking at another version of yourself.

“Aozawa-kun,” Kudo Yusaku opened his umbrella and nodded to him, “I’ll be going now.”

Qingze withdrew his gaze and nodded.

He looked up and glanced in the direction of the Mori Detective Agency upstairs. Warm yellow lights shone from the windows, and he could vaguely see shadowy figures moving about.

He adjusted his scarf, turned around, and walked in another direction.

Two similar figures walked further and further apart through the swirling snowflakes.

One goes left, the other goes right.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, quickly blurring their outlines. In the end, they were all swallowed up by the white.

Qingze stood deep in the dimly lit alley, his back against the cold wall.

The eaves act as a natural barrier, keeping the snow from falling.

The alley was dry, with only the occasional gust of wind blowing in, swirling up a few scattered snowflakes that landed at his feet.

He held the burnt-out cigarette between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the swirling snow outside the alleyway.

After estimating the time, he took out his phone and made a call.

"Are you home yet?"

"Hmm." Another voice came from the other end of the phone, sounding like someone who had just come back from outside.

"I've boiled some ginger and brown sugar water in the pot, it's still hot. Drink some to warm yourself up."

"I'm not cold anymore..."

"During your period, drinking some is good for your health."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a smug, conciliatory reply: "Okay, okay."

Soon, the receiver picked up the soft sound of a pot lid being lifted, along with the clattering of bowls and chopsticks.

A slight smile appeared on his lips.

The moment he looked up, he saw someone walking towards him from the other end of the alley.

His eyes narrowed.

The call ended. The phone silently slid into his pocket.

a woman.

Her deep red hair almost reached her waist, and she wore a dark cloak, the hem of which swayed gently with her steps.

Snowflakes drifted down behind her, as if blocked by some invisible force, daring not to touch her.

She exuded an indescribable aura—not a murderous aura, but something more ancient and profound.

She walked over step by step, her high heels making no sound on the dry ground.

She stopped three meters away.

The alleyway was very quiet.

The wind stopped.

The sound of snow falling on the eaves seemed to be shut out.

Koizumi Akako looked at the person in front of her.

Those red eyes narrowed slightly, their gaze slowly moving from his face to his entire body, then back to his face. His brows furrowed deeper and deeper.

“You have a special scent,” she began, her voice as clear and crisp as the moonlight on a winter night.

Qingze raised an eyebrow, looking at this woman with a peculiar yet inexplicable aura.

"Oh? What does it taste like?"

A red light shone from Koizumi Akako's eyes, as if she had activated some kind of detector.

Qingze felt as if he had been exposed to some kind of X-ray, and he had a very uncomfortable feeling.

He rubbed the burnt-out cigarette butt in his hand, a cold glint in his eyes.

Koizumi Akako took out a crystal ball with a crack on it. She whispered something, and mist swirled inside.

Qingze remained still, quietly watching the woman in front of him.

The crystal ball, and its unique aura, reminded him of an identity—

The witch riding a broom that I saw when I saved Kid that night.

It's incredible, but in this vast world, consciousness swapping is possible, so having a witch isn't that hard to understand.

Qingze's gaze fell on the crystal ball.

Inside the sphere, the image expands and then converges, as if stirred by an invisible hand. The mist surges, slowly gathering, and finally coalesces into a single point—the outline of a gemstone.

Calling it a gemstone is inaccurate.

It resembles an unpolished glass sphere, rough and primitive, showing no particular features. But within that transparent shell, a teardrop-shaped red crystal floats silently, like a cluster of light sealed in time.

Hongzi's eyes suddenly shrank to pinpoints.

She stared at the gem as if it were something that shouldn't exist in this world.

Pandora!

Her voice was out of control, sharp enough to pierce the silence of the alley.

It's as if those three words unlocked a lock.

Deep within Qingze's mind, something suddenly loosened.

Memories surged up from the deepest darkness, carrying the glow of the past and two gentle yet weary faces.

"Zhiyu, this is a tenth birthday present that your mom and dad prepared for you."