Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 119 A pool of blood at the door of No. 221B

Everyone present was stunned. They didn't even press the shutter right away. They just looked at the girl quietly, wondering if they were in a dream. Otherwise, how could they see such a beautiful girl? one person.

After that, the situation developed directly out of control.

Nightingale's appearance appeared in almost every publication in the entire empire overnight!

It stands to reason that the empire has different regions and a large population, and the culture it inherits must also be different. Some people like tall people, some people like thin people, and some people like people who are 1.4 meters tall and weigh less than 250 kilograms. No one will look at them. Rare enough to take a look.

There is no objective answer to beauty. Everyone has their own theory.

But at that moment, people discovered that if beauty reaches a certain level, then all aesthetics will be unified.

So much so that when people glanced at the photo in the newspaper, they were extremely careless, but they firmly believed that this girl was the most beautiful person in the world.

There can't be one

The Day of Holy Love is over, and in the early morning, the residual smell of fireworks can still be smelled in the white winter sky.

Building 221B, Baker Street, once again has a sense of life.

At least there was some frost on the windows, which proved that the fireplace had been opened.

At 10 o'clock in the morning, Sherlock had been sitting in the coffee shop across the street for two hours, refilling 7 cups of coffee. When he was refilling the eighth cup, the waiter kindly reminded him that drinking too much coffee would be harmful to the body. .

Sherlock didn't know whether the other party felt sorry for the coffee, or was afraid that he would drink too much and suffer a cardiac arrest and die in the store. In short, he smiled apologetically, drank three more cups, and then left the money for one cup of coffee. He stood up and opened the store door.

In the cold wind, he wrapped his coat tightly, as if he was making some extremely difficult decision. Finally, he gritted his teeth, stamped his feet, walked across the road in front of him and knocked on the door on the first floor of No. 221B.

After a while, the door was finally pushed open.

Mrs. Hudson behind the door did not hide the displeasure on her face at all. She was not even surprised that Sherlock would come and said straight to the point:

"I know I have no reason to be angry. You saved me once, and I kicked you out of the room. I should feel guilty, both emotionally and rationally.

But I'm just angry.

You've known that little man all along, why didn't you tell me? ! "

Sherlock grimaced, thinking it was because you didn't ask.

But he certainly wouldn't be ignorant to give such an answer at this time. He just wanted to make up one that made sense.

"Because I didn't ask, I know." The landlady actually said it herself: "But you know how much I have been struggling in my heart these days, and how many times I have felt guilty. I hope that this will happen, and at the same time I hope All this is a dream, although these are my own problems, although they are all caused by me, but who would have thought that you, a little detective in the lower city, could know the Holy Son of the Holy See?! Who would have thought... Okay, I'm sorry , It’s cold outside, come in and sit.”

Mrs. Hudson's tone originally became faster and faster, more and more sad, more aggrieved, almost crying, but in the end, she suddenly seemed to have no strength, and all her complaints turned into an obvious cry. apology.

And turned sideways, motioning for Sherlock to come in quickly.

The wood in the fireplace has not burned for several days and is slightly damp, so it is inevitable that there will be some clicking when it is lit again.

But the man and woman in the house didn't affect it at all.

Mrs. Hudson knew that Sherlock had been sitting in the coffee shop across the street all morning. After all, she could see it through the window, so she did not give him another coffee, but made him a cup of hot milk.

they talked for a long time

Anyway, after the farce at the venue, the wild running on the roof, and the conversation by the Thames at night, the two of them didn't seem to have much to hide from each other.

Just like that, after two full hours, they seemed to have finally figured out the matter.

"Well, although it's still hard to believe it, I don't seem to have any other choice but to believe it." Mrs. Hudson finally sighed and lowered her head as if she had resigned herself to her fate.

Sherlock hesitated: "So, you are still a saint of the Holy See?"

"Yes." Hudson spread his hands: "That great priest came to me a few days ago and told me. According to what he meant, a saint is a saint. It doesn't matter whether she marries the saint or not. This custom is only It’s just a custom, completely a bad trend brought up by those groups of people in the early years of the Holy Calendar. Holy Light has never said that the Son and the Saint are a couple. It is very likely that Holy Light’s original intention was to have the Son come to witness the Holy Spirit. As for the coronation ceremony for women, who knew that all the saints would throw themselves into their arms."

Sherlock carefully tasted the meaning of these words, then approached the landlady and whispered: "I feel that this great priest of the Holy Light Temple has a somewhat unconventional meaning. If you are in love with the Holy Light, you can do whatever you want. It’s okay to understand, right?”

Mrs. Hudson couldn't comment on a great priest. She just curled her lips and indicated that she thought so too.

After talking to this point, Sherlock felt that it was almost time.

In fact, how to understand Holy Light's words, how much power the saint has, and what kind of duties the saint will hold after being crowned, he is not that concerned about these issues.

Because it's too far away from him.

What he cares about most now is

"Well, actually I want to ask, can I come back? I still have a sofa upstairs. When you kicked me out, you didn't even mention taking it with you."

"It seems like you have a deep relationship with that sofa."

"It's not very deep, but it's comfortable to sit on. You know, there's a pit in the middle~" Sherlock solemnly measured the depression with his hand.

"Tch——" Mrs. Hudson turned her head, and then gave Sherlock a pretentious look: "I will be escorted to the Holy City of Jerusalem in a few days. I will definitely not be able to continue living in this apartment, so .You can help me take care of this house for the time being. As for the wages, I don’t have time to pay you, so you might as well just live here, so you don’t owe anyone anything.”

Sherlock couldn't help but smile after hearing what the other party said.

It seems that the identity of the saint has not changed the landlady's character too much.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Hudson handed the key to 221B Baker Street to Sherlock. She opened the door and said a simple farewell. Some of the nuns in white who had been waiting for her in the alley left one after another. He came out, put him on an approaching carriage, and then drove away.

Watching the carriage gradually disappear at the corner of the street, Sherlock didn't know whether he should say his luck was good or bad. An ordinary detective actually got to know the Son and the Saint.

Moreover, he had a hunch that he and these two friends would meet again soon.

He lowered his head and looked at the key in his hand

Well, generally speaking, I'm pretty lucky. At least I have a long-term residence. I can have a place to live in London without having to pay rent these days. What else can I be dissatisfied about?

He smiled and fiddled with the keys in his hand, wondering when he would move his luggage back.

Just then, a gust of cold wind blew.

"Wow!!!"

A pool of blood spurted out from Sherlock's mouth and splashed on the snow at the door, a large area of ​​blood!

Sherlock held onto the wall and wiped the corner of his mouth with his other hand, looking a little helpless.

"It's been so many days and there's still no improvement?"

The comment system seems to be broken. I went to the reviewer, and the reviewer said that he couldn't control it and that I had to contact the technical department. But I'm not familiar with the people in the technical department, but it's fine. I will get familiar with it soon...

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