Niwang's expression was a bit strange, a sort of suppressed urge to laugh that left him at a loss for words, causing Nana to cast several glances at him.
Then, upon stepping outside, a striking figure came into view.
A black trench coat and long Silver-haired.
Nana??
The slap in the face came so quickly.
He rushed toward the other person, not forgetting to grab Niwang with his right hand, while simultaneously giving him a fierce glare.
This guy must have discovered it long ago!
Not far away, Gin had clearly also noticed Nana.
He did not move, maintaining his posture with both hands in his pockets, his Green eyes looking over coldly. However, perhaps having been infected by the festive atmosphere of the New Year, those habitually cold Green eyes held a hint of warmth, looking much like the vibrant green leaves of early spring.
Green leaves swept across the clasped hands of the two people opposite him: "It seems you are having a great time."
Ah.. yes." Nana nodded. "Zhenjun, are you also here to pay your respects?
Gin paused, a strange expression flickering across her face, replied with an ambiguous tone, "I suppose so."
In a way??
What does this mean?
Nana was confused. She hesitated, intending to take out the charm she had just prayed for, but before she could act, she heard Gin's voice ring out again.
There was a hint of hesitation in her tone, making it sound a bit softer.
This.. is for you.
The hands that had long been accustomed to holding knives and guns were fair and slender, with well-defined knuckles. Lying quietly in the palm was an amulet of the same design.
Nana asked blankly, "For me?"
Yes.
“Then.. what about you, Zhenjun?”
Gin answered Nana's question with a response that seemed both lazy and indifferent: "I already have one."
Using her detective's intuition, Nana felt that this conversation was becoming increasingly strange..
She suddenly had a sudden flash of intuition. "Zhenjun.. are you.. did you come alone?"
Gin glanced at her. The New Year's wind carried a slight chill, his low, hoarse male voice drifted through the cool breeze, still carrying that same lazy and nonchalant tone: "No."
!!
..
So for the next stretch of the road, a dazed Nana was led along by Niwang.
After being nearly knocked unconscious by a Thunderbolt, Nana regained consciousness, amidst the lingering shock, a sense of annoyance inevitably swept through her heart:
—Ahhh, I actually forgot to ask who that person was!
—And besides, what exactly is that person's relationship to Zhenjun?!
All sorts of frustration stemmed from the human nature of being a gossip, not to mention that the probability of a detective being killed by a cat is far higher than that of an ordinary person; Nana felt as if her heart had already been scratched to death by a cat.
Unfortunately, Nana's mind was racing with a thousand different thoughts, but if Gin were to find out, he would likely only be speechless for a moment before dousing her with a bucket of cold water by saying, "You're overthinking it."
In his view, this was truly just a sudden whim to take a stroll while passing by.
As for whether Nana is truly overthinking things, that question.. is a matter of opinion.
Smiling JPG
Niwang Yaji looked at his Girlfriend's rare expression of frustration, but he still couldn't help but reach out to rub her head before bursting into laughter.
Nana looked at her boyfriend speechlessly for three seconds: "Hey, hey, hey, what kind of reaction is this? Give me back the polite youth from the beginning!"
The Silver-haired tennis player still had a lingering smile on his lips; he shook his head while laughing, then he let go of his Girlfriend's hand, which he had been holding all this time.
Green eyes met eyes of the same hue, the Youth's voice echoed in the wind: "Won't you come back? How about I give me to you instead?"
Please provide the paragraph you would like me to translate.
The silver-haired youth looked at the person walking toward him and muttered, "Too slow," though his tone held no anger; two similar-looking couples brushed past each other, the young detective and the Mysterious Magician catching each other's gaze as if sensing something, before being snapped back to reality by the calls of those beside them; the Tomboy flipped through a newspaper with great interest; the Detective inheriting grandfather's name was choosing batteries at a convenience store; the young, capable female forensic scientist finished her report and stretched; the blue-eyed man gazed at the birds in the distant sky; the girl, whose beauty was almost criminal, lay on a sofa cushion reading "And Then There Were None"; and the brown-haired green-eyed woman, who was deeply missed by someone, looked at the green trees outside the hospital window and curved her eyes in a smile.
Please provide the Chinese paragraph you would like me to translate.
It was very, very warm.
So Dan Nani met the youth's bright eyes and spoke with a smile:
But, haven't you already been mine for a long time?
Happy New Year.
To all the people I love.
Happy New Year.
Everyone who loves me.
-----------------------
Author's Note: It's been a long time since my last update.. I've almost forgotten what I wrote before.. Let's start with a side story first.
The main story will be coming soon!
By the way—
Even though it was a little late..
But—
Happy New Year, everyone!
Chapter 60: Pseudo-Hua Mulan and Pseudo-Cinderella..
This matter was truly awkward, to the point that even the way Bourbon looked at him seemed a bit strange.
Gin sneered inwardly, cursing under his breath, yet he maintained a calm composure on the surface, as steady as a mountain even in the face of catastrophe; he slowly unclenched his teeth, slowly straightened his posture, slowly turned his head to admire the scenery outside the window, as if nothing had happened at all.
Pfft—
It was a laugh that showed absolutely no respect to the person beside him.
Veins bulged on the Silver-haired youth's forehead.
Can't you just use your eyes and keep your mouth shut for once—!
Undercover agents are just unreliable! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻
He cast a cold glance at Amuro Tooru, who very tactfully—or rather, out of a desire to stay alive—reined himself in, though a faint, mocking smile still lingered in those violet eyes, which was extremely irritating.
Gin would not lose his temper over a trivial matter, especially since reacting to this would inevitably look like a fit of humiliated rage; however, if a cold and stern "warning" was merely a futile effort, he simply wouldn't bother wasting the energy.
It seemed to have realized Gin's avoidance, Bourbon blinked his eyes and asked with a half-smile, "Aren't you going to offer any compensation?"
The silver-haired youth frowned slightly, his sharp gaze fixed directly on the blonde-haired undercover's handsome face. He scrutinized the latter for a long while, yet Bourbon's smile remained flawless.
Gin withdrew his gaze, revealing a rare smile that was entirely devoid of mockery. "I'll give you a raise when you get back."
Bourbon: "Huh?"
He almost thought he had misheard.
Gin raised an eyebrow, a hint of mockery hidden within his dark green eyes. "It seems you need a new car." He slowly opened the car door, tilting his head slightly as a gesture of farewell, before dropping one final remark: "Don't be too grateful to me."
The Blonde-haired Public Security was left completely baffled: "When did I ever say I wanted a new car?"
..
It was, of course, in some parallel world where one could drive a Mazda through heaven and earth, traversing time and space while showcasing the exquisite driving skills of the Gundam warrior Amuro.
Gin silently complained, mourning his tragically sacrificed Mazda for three seconds, before swiping his card to enter the building and take the elevator, intending to find Heine to discuss the intelligence he had received a few days ago.
He had made an appointment with Heine before heading out on the mission; although the latter had not replied, he did not believe Heine would stand him up.
Unless they truly found their life too comfortable.
After the fingerprint unlock, the silver-white door slowly opened, revealing a dim, dark interior. A single incandescent light hung lonely from the pale ceiling, emitting a silent glow like a final act of defiance, reflecting off the metallic sheen of the automatic door.
It was clearly a modern, high-tech Safe House, it was clearly a beautiful, sunny afternoon, but thanks to someone's actions, it had gained a few extra layers of a haunted house vibe.
After his gaze lingered on the thick curtains for a few seconds, Gin swept his eyes toward the master of the house.
The master was bowing his head, sprawling lazily across the soft wool Sofa. Considering the excellent feel of the Sofa and the comfort of the wool, Heine seemed to have a tendency to cling to it.
His long legs were lazily crossed, his head tilted to one side as if he had no bones, humming an unknown little tune. His voice was captivating, mellow and husky like aged fine wine.
But the voice was very soft.
It was so faint that it was only after Gin took a few steps closer that he barely caught the final, ethereal phrase, "Dammi il tuo amor"..
Gin paused for a few seconds before realizing with some surprise that Heine hadn't noticed him at all.
Heine, like him, was a true assassin; although Gin entered with light steps, he was not so silent as to make no sound at all, let alone the noise made when the door first opened.
Being so careless even inside a Safe House—does he think his life is too long?
Gin cursed inwardly, curling his index finger to tap against the stark white wall as a casual reminder.
Heine indeed turned his head to look at him, his gaze distant and hazy, as if obscured by a veil of mist; those deep, soulful Blue eyes seemed to be looking at him, yet also seemed to be looking through him at something else entirely.
Gin became increasingly displeased—there were not many people who ignored him so blatantly.
Before the Silver-haired youth could lose his temper, Heine smiled with a strong instinct for survival, his voice mellow and sweet, like an '82 Lafite slowly pouring into a crystal glass, or thick honey trickling into a white porcelain bowl.
You're here—
He seemed to be very affectionate.
However, the more he acted this way, the more Gin could sense a sense of wrongness that barely skimmed the surface.
"What kind of madness are you possessed by?" The Silver-haired youth never knew the meaning of tact. After dropping a blunt question, he sat down on the sofa opposite Heine with an air of familiarity.
The Wool was indeed very soft.