Xiaobai could, to some extent, sense the unspoken tension between two people.
Jiangxia Tongzhi recalled that Toshihiko Takasugi and Sayuri Matsumoto were childhood sweethearts who'd had feelings for each other. But years ago, Takasugi's family had suffered some kind of accident, and he'd been whisked away. Just like that, the two were separated.
By some cosmic prank, they ended up at the same university. Sayuri immediately recognized Takasugi. But Takasugi, being your typical dense male lead, had no idea that Sayuri was the girl he'd once liked—because back then, they'd just run around together without even exchanging names. Iconic.
Jiangxia considered their melodramatic, half-baked romance, then glanced at Xiaobai, who was practically vibrating with anticipation. He hesitated for a second before giving in.
Sayuri Matsumoto might be a little naive, but she was ultimately a good person. And if helping her meant Takasugi wouldn't go through with the murder, then hey—same outcome, less mess. Sure, Jiangxia wouldn't get to enjoy the sweet thrill of extracting killing intent, but sometimes you just had to sacrifice a little fun for the greater good.
Plus, it was Children's Day. Might as well let Xiaobai play around. Maybe it'd get excited enough to unlock some new ghost skills or something.
As soon as Jiangxia nodded, Xiaobai snapped out of its earlier funk, revived like a shikigami with a battery replacement.
It reached into its ghostly outfit and pulled out what looked like a translucent notebook, shimmering faintly like it was made of fish scales.
Jiangxia leaned in for a better look. The title read "Script," with a fine line of text trailing underneath.
Jiangxia: "…"
This ghost really was the offspring of drama queens.
And its parent ghosts weren't slacking either—teaching an infant ghost to write scripts already? Talk about tiger parenting in the afterlife.
At least the ghost family seemed to get along. The lazy spiritualist gave them a silent thumbs up from the soul.
…
After agreeing to help with Xiaobai's script, Jiangxia didn't hang around the bride's waiting room. He made up some excuse about work and slipped back to the main venue.
There wasn't much to actually do. The wedding was starting soon, and the other staff had already finished everything while he was off being a tool person.
So Jiangxia wandered into the lounge, slouched onto a sofa, and closed his eyes in fake-nap mode, slightly guilty but not guilty enough to move.
His consciousness slipped into the Xiaobai puppet he'd made earlier. Using the puppet body of a little boy, he quietly made his way down the hallway, dodging glances like a ghost on a stealth mission.
…
Back in the bride's waiting room, people were coming and going like they'd installed a revolving door. Besides Ran Mouri, Sonoko Suzuki, and Conan, various relatives and well-wishers came by to check on Sayuri Matsumoto.
Conan hadn't had lunch, so Ran stepped out to buy him a sandwich from a nearby shop.
He wolfed it down in three bites—classic—and then left the room, heading toward the restroom to wash up.
In the bustle of the church, nobody noticed his quiet departure.
Nobody… except for one.
From around the corner of a nearby hallway, a pair of eyes tracked him silently before slipping into pursuit.
Naturally, it was Jiangxia, piloting Xiaobai's puppet form.
He'd just read Xiaobai's script and found that the very first line was:
A beautiful play should not be interrupted by a detective heroically barging in during a tragic separation scene between the male and female leads.
Jiangxia: "…"
This ghost… was thorough. A budding auteur among spectral infants.
Jiangxia tucked the script away, satisfied. This was easy to handle—just remove the detective from the equation.
…
Conan cupped water from the restroom sink, casually rinsing his face.
Mid-rinse, he froze. A cold chill slid down his spine.
That unmistakable feeling of being watched by something ghostly crept in.
He jerked upright and stared into the mirror.
There were two reflections. One was his.
The other belonged to Xiaobai, silently standing behind him like it had respawned out of thin air.
Conan blinked. "Wait—!"
He didn't finish.
A sudden, sharp pain jabbed into his lower back.
Conan: "…"
The world spun.
He tried to steady himself on the sink. No need to check—Xiaobai had definitely stuck him with a needle.
Couldn't we have just talked? Was there a Man in Black in the church? A bomb? A high school detective who needed backup?
And if so, what's it got to do with me—an innocent first-grader?!
Conan's mind was racing, filled with righteous fury and unanswered questions.
But his limbs had other plans. They stopped working before he could voice a single complaint.
He crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
Jiangxia looked down at him.
Still reassuringly fragile, that one.
He calmly pulled out the anesthetic syringe, then dragged Conan over to a hallway bench and posed him like he'd just dozed off.
A kid sleeping mid-wedding? Totally reasonable.
In a bit, Ran and the others would head down this corridor on their way to their seats. They'd find Conan peacefully "napping" here and bring him along. Problem solved.
With one detective down, only two more threats remained to Xiaobai's masterpiece.
The first was Jiangxia's own body, currently slacking off with zero ambition—no threat there.
The other was Amuro Tooru.
Jiangxia considered it for a moment, then decided not to bother.
Amuro's interest was in Kiyochou Matsumoto, not Sayuri. So unlike Conan, he wouldn't be hanging around the bride.
Even if he did hear about the drama later, he wouldn't be able to rush in and heroically interrupt the scene. That made him a non-issue.
…That, and Jiangxia had a bad gut feeling.
Hanging around Amuro Tooru while operating Xiaobai's puppet seemed like a good way to court death.
Besides, the 'stab-n-run' routine already lost surprise value after being used once. Sure, he could switch to Xiaobai's parent ghost puppet and silently take down Amuro—but it didn't seem worth it for a low-killing-intent side mission.
So, ignoring Xiaobai's soft ghostly whining, Jiangxia mentally checked off the script's first precaution and declared the problem solved.
Then he ghosted back to his original seat to keep watching the bride's room from a distance.
…
In Sayuri's waiting room, the parade of guests continued. Best friends, her father, even the student who had once crushed on her—everyone had their cameo and exited stage left.
The final visitor was the groom, Toshihiko Takasugi, and he came carrying a little gift.
Sodium hydroxide.
Takasugi was so distracted with his plan that he stumbled the moment he walked in, nearly eating carpet.
Under Sonoko Suzuki's rapidly intensifying disgust, he awkwardly dusted himself off and greeted Sayuri Matsumoto, pretending he hadn't just brought industrial-grade poison to his wedding.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 46/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:2/10*