I have an unlimited number of shikigami

"Thank you," Mrs. Kasahara said solemnly.

The wind stopped, and the pine needles remained motionless, like a backdrop for a photograph. She picked up her cup again and took a small sip of herbal tea, but the tea suddenly tasted bland.

“More than a month ago, I overheard their conversation and learned that a woman named Tanimura was coming to Nan'indou, so I followed her.” Xia Xili’s tone and expression relaxed. “I felt that she was also suspicious, so I had Fuka Eri test her. Sure enough, she was also a fox spirit. And she is from Tochigi Prefecture. I suspect that their purpose in acquiring the yellow pine jade is related to the Sesshoseki in Nikko National Park.”

“That shouldn’t be the case…” Mrs. Hoshimi tilted her head and pondered for a moment. “The seal on the Sesshōseki is intact, and it’s still bound with a sealing rope. There are also more than a dozen shrines and temples guarding it in Nikko Park… The yellow pine jade doesn’t have the effect of enhancing attacks or breaking seals, so what use would they have for it?”

“Perhaps some shrines and temples have been bribed,” Xia Xili said. “Huang Songyu reinforced the barrier to isolate the Killing Stone from the outside world, giving them ample time to break the seal.”

“It’s possible.” Mrs. Kasahara placed her hands on the table and smiled faintly. “But whatever you’re saying is just a hypothesis. We can’t start an investigation into the members of the Onmyōryō just because of that.”

Xia Xili nodded, but her tone remained firm as she said, "But it's quite possible that it's true."

"Without evidence, it's like throwing a stone at a very distant target. Do you understand?"

"I understand. But the more stones you throw, the greater the chance of hitting the target."

“But we can’t just throw stones at the problem randomly. For the chairman, things aren’t done step by step; it’s either zero percent or one hundred percent—there’s only one possible outcome, no middle ground.”

“Of course,” Xia Xili nodded and said, “So please give me Mrs. Tanimura, and also give me Fuka Eri, so we can throw stones together.”

Mrs. Kasahara quieted down, exchanged glances with Mrs. Hoshimi, and the two whispered to each other for a while.

Fujiwara Rin peeked out from behind the easel, staring intently at his godmother for a long time. Xia Xili would occasionally glance at him, her gaze not sharp, but conveying a resolute determination. Fujiwara Rin wasn't surprised; from childhood, due to her dignified appearance, his aunt often gave the impression of gentleness and delicacy. In reality, however, she was a girl of unwavering resolve, possessing an inner strength that wouldn't be swayed by external circumstances. Just as once she drew a straight line, she would never easily compromise and draw it crooked.

How should I put it...

Fujiwara Izaya is proud of Natsuki Kuriko's growth.

After all, this perfect superheroine devil older sister was someone he personally trained.

A short while later, Mrs. Kasahara looked at Natsuki Ruri and smiled again: "It's decided then."

Xia Xili tidied up the photos and put them back in her handbag.

"Don't make too much of a fuss," Mrs. Kasahara reminded her.

"Please rest assured," Xia Xili said, seemingly agreeing.

“Eri Fukahara,” Mrs. Kasahara turned her head and grasped the back of her eldest daughter’s hand, “thank you for your trouble.”

"Mmm," Kasahara Fukari responded, her eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that Fujiwara Izaya could not currently experience.

Xia Xili stood up, picked up her purse, and bowed slightly: "Thank you for your support." After saying that, she bowed again to Mrs. Hoshimi, "Thank you for the vanilla tea, it's very refreshing."

“I also want to thank you.” Mrs. Hoshimi’s eyes shone with warmth as she gently placed her hand on Natsuki’s wrist. “If you need any help, just let us know, and we’ll do our best to assist you.”

“I certainly won’t stand on ceremony,” Xia Xili said with a perfect smile.

“But you can’t even think about my brother Fujiwara.” Mrs. Kasahara covered her lips and laughed, her long eyelashes trembling slightly in the summer sun. “He’s someone I’ve set my sights on, and I won’t let him go to anyone else.”

"That's hard to say," Xia Xilin replied ambiguously, her delicate face showing no trace of shyness. Then she turned and left, the lines of her beige long-sleeved shirt cascading down her back shoulders, her legs outlined by tight pencil pants, making her appear both alluring and free-spirited.

Kasahara Fukari also picked up her handbag and left.

Mrs. Tanimura is being held by Section 9; she needs to go and complete the transfer procedures.

"I'll go see them off." Fujiwara Ryūya put down his paintbrush and followed the two of them.

"Don't let your aunt bewitch you," Mrs. Kasahara glared at him from behind. "There are four other women waiting for you here. If you don't come back in ten minutes, we'll throw your luggage into the sea."

"okay!"

Having received an affirmative answer, Mrs. Kasahara turned her gaze back to the two girls present.

From the very beginning of the conversation, they seemed to have little presence, probably feeling ignored, and now they were both rather sullen. Mrs. Kasahara chuckled and comforted them, "Cheer up! We can't afford to lose at the fireworks festival tonight!"

The two girls looked up at the same time, a strange fighting spirit igniting in their eyes.

※※※※※

The windows of the black G-Class were dazzling in the sunlight.

Xia Xili was in a good mood, walking with long strides. Her silver high heels shimmered in the sunlight, just like her radiant face, making one feel happy.

Burning Words

"What do you want that fox demon for?" Fujiwara Izaya asked.

"Shh, that's a secret!" Xia Xili playfully tossed her hair at him, then put her arm around his shoulder like a good buddy. "Hey, my little rascal, Auntie has a big surprise for you tonight, I guarantee you won't be able to resist it."

"I think it's more of a shock." Fujiwara Izaya didn't believe her at all.

"Really? Tonight will definitely be a surprise."

After saying that, Xia Xili couldn't help but smile, her eyes sparkling.

Fujiwara Izaya pondered silently for a moment, then said to Kasahara Fukari, "Could you please keep an eye on her for me?"

Kasahara Fukaeri pretended not to hear, remaining as indifferent as ever.

"Haha, you still haven't won over our Miss Fuka Eri." Xia Xili said, patting Fujiwara Izaya on the back. Fujiwara Izaya bent down, and she jumped onto his back with a "whoosh." His hands, supporting her bottom, felt an irresistible, wonderful elasticity.

When she was little, she was the one who carried Fujiwara Izaya on her back.

Once Fujiwara Izaya grew taller than her, he took over carrying her on his back.

“It depends on how you perform,” Xia Xili whispered in his ear. “If you’re good enough, your aunt will help you trick her into bed.”

Fujiwara Izaya pinched her buttock hard with his hand, then carried her towards the Mercedes G-Class.

"Oh, you bad boy!" Xia Xili giggled sweetly, biting his ear affectionately. "I'm really going to reward you tonight, really, I definitely won't tease you this time."

This time, Fujiwara Izaya believed her.

A gust of wind blew in his face, carrying a wave of heat. It was still summer, and small, clearly defined white clouds floated in the sky. After watching the black G-Wagon drive away, he began to mentally review his time management for the evening—he absolutely couldn't afford another mishap!

Chapter 136. Xia Xili Wants to Be a Fox Girl

Evening is approaching.

The beach was scorching hot, and the wind carried a strong smell of the sea. Fujiwara Izaya took a deep breath and looked up at the orange sky. He could still feel the heat of the summer sun as he stretched his arms out. A moment later, the cool waves began to wash over his feet.

There was a newspaper under the soda bottle next to me.

The front page of the newspaper was a report about the riot at the Minami-Izuma Town Summer Festival. It said that a film company, in order to achieve a more realistic effect, filmed without permission, which caused the riot. The film company has since published an apology and suspended operations indefinitely.

As a non-experienced politician, Fujiwara Izaya found these reports riddled with errors. However, politicians only need to convince ordinary people; as for those who don't believe, let them speculate—after all, these reports made no mention of the supernatural.

At five o'clock, Fujiwara Izaya returned to the dojo.

He slipped into Mrs. Kasahara's room first, where the mother and daughter were just about to change clothes.

"Xiangxiang, come and try these on with your mother." Mrs. Kasahara placed the paper package containing the clothes on her lap, unwrapped it, and felt an irrepressible surge of girlish joy as she touched the smooth, crepe-like fabric. She kept measuring the length of the cuffs with her fingers.

"This set belongs to Mom, right?" Asuka Kasahara's eyes sparkled.

"Yes."

"What trick did I use?"

"The pattern is very beautiful!"

"Aren't the sleeves a bit short?"

“Oh? No, it won’t.” Mrs. Kasahara lifted the sleeve of her mourning dress and held it against her arm to show it off. “See, it fits perfectly.”

Kasahara Asuka squatted down and untied the thin string on another wrapping paper, revealing the black mourning clothes underneath.

"Is this a sash? It's fine satin, oh dear... Mom, the style is so ugly!"

“This is mourning attire,” Mrs. Kasahara said with a smile.

Black mourning clothes are certainly not suitable for a young girl, even the embroidery on the belt is black.

Kasahara Asuka pouted: "Watching fireworks while wearing mourning clothes feels weird."

“Isn’t this even better?” Mrs. Kasahara cupped her delicate face in her hands and said proudly, “The widow attribute is a plus.”

"I'm a beautiful girl!" Kasahara Asuka rolled her eyes at her mother.

Next, the mother and daughter began to change their clothes.

Fujiwara Izaya turned his back.

Listen only to the sound, don't look at the person.

He could accurately distinguish the sounds of hands reaching into sleeves, belts being tightened, and collars being adjusted from the very faintest of sounds.

After they finished dressing, Fujiwara Izaya heard Mrs. Kasahara laugh and scold, "You little pervert."

"If I'll get scolded for not watching it sooner, then I'll watch it," he said as he walked into the house.

"How do you think of this outfit?" Mrs. Kasahara spread her arms out like a peacock spreading its tail feathers, gracefully gesturing in front of him.

"Black mourning clothes make women look even more beautiful." Fujiwara Izaya gave a thumbs up.

"You're so glib." Mrs. Kasahara glared at him reproachfully, then turned to tie her daughter's belt. Fujiwara Rinya was standing nearby, sizing up his junior in mourning clothes. Perhaps because mourning clothes don't discriminate by age, the junior seemed to have suddenly aged two or three years, exuding a more mature air, and her chest even appeared much fuller.

Mrs. Kasahara tied her youngest daughter's sash and then pulled her collar tighter.

"Xiangxiang looks like a grown-up, and her mother is not happy about it."

"Oh?"

“When you grow up, you won’t belong to your mother alone anymore.” Mrs. Kasahara rubbed her youngest daughter’s head. Perhaps because the belt was tied tighter, the youngest daughter’s figure appeared more graceful and elegant, making it particularly easy for people to have impure thoughts.

“Asuka’s expression doesn’t match her mourning clothes,” Fujiwara Rinya said from the side.

Only after he said that did Mrs. Kasahara realize that her youngest daughter was as happy as if she were wearing a New Year's outfit. A brand-new pure white collar peeked out from under her black kimono, revealing her neck and rosy cheeks, which were filled with smiles.

Mrs. Kasahara was overjoyed by her youngest daughter's beautiful face.

"Xiangxiang, walk a few steps and show your mother."

“Okay.” Asuka Kasahara imitated a model walking the runway, swaying her hips as she walked back and forth.

"Hey, hey, these are mourning clothes! You should be more somber..." Fujiwara Izaya hunched his shoulders, inwardly screaming.

"Fujiwara, come here." Mrs. Kasahara straightened her chest and turned to face Fujiwara Izaya. Perhaps it was the black mourning clothes that highlighted the maturity of her widowed body, so she now looked like she could be easily coerced and humiliated.

"Mother," Fujiwara Izaya greeted her, bowing his head.

"You're such a hypocrite!" Mrs. Kasahara said, both amused and exasperated, handing him another belt. "Help your mother tie her belt."

"Eh?"