[Comprehensive British and American] Those years when I opened a dessert shop on Baker Street

Sherlock burned all the pictures of him dressed as a girl when he was young, and he denied the existence of this past.

Mycroft said: "Some things really don't exist unless you deny them."

He was clearly talking about Sherlock being dressed as a girl, but there seemed to be something wrong with what he said, especially when he said this with a meaningful look at Winsty.

Sherlock also wanted to expose Mycroft's childhood embarrassment, but when he was born, Mycroft was already seven years old, and he had already passed the childish stage of being deceived.

The three of them stayed at home for three days, and at the end of the three days, Mycroft went to the Diogenes Club, and Sherlock and Winsty returned to Baker Street.

After returning the red Maybach to Mrs. Hudson, she welcomed the return of the two young people very happily, and she seemed to be in very good spirits.

"Oh, it's so good to see you two in this room again!" Mrs. Hudson thought that Sherlock and Winsty were going to wander off and never see him again.

The corners of Sherlock's lips curled up as he watched Wensty and Mrs. Hudson hug and hug.

"I really miss the little cakes you made, and many neighbors came to ask where you have been, and when will the dessert shop resume business?"

"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock began, "we've just come back from a great escape."

"Yes, you need to recuperate. In this case, I will not pass on the news about Inspector Lestrade to you." Mrs. Hudson put her arms around Winsty's shoulders, tilting her head to Sherlock, and said intentionally.

"What news did he bring?"

"You need to rest."

"No need," Sherlock smiled obediently, "What news did he bring?"

"It's nothing, he asked you to go to Scotland Yard when you come back, and he will tell you in person."

Sherlock immediately got up from the sofa, took his and Winsty's coats from the hanger: "Let's go."

"Actually, Lestrade only let you go alone." Mrs. Hudson said, this was Lestrade's special order.

Sherlock was stunned for a moment, and quickly realized that after experiencing the incident at Newman's private hospital, Lestrade took precautions against Wensty.

"Then I won't go either," Sherlock said casually, "It's time for the goldfish in Scotland Yard to learn to grow on their own."

"Stop making trouble, they must have something important to do with you, and I couldn't go there at first, so I invited my third uncle to have afternoon tea."

Winston pulled her clothes out of Sherlock's arms nonchalantly.

Sherlock still remembered Wensty's third uncle, a man dressed like a hippie from the last century, but forgot that he was also in London.

"Why do you suddenly think of asking him out for afternoon tea?"

In Sherlock's memory, this was the first time Wensty invited her third uncle to have afternoon tea.

He paused: "I don't have to go to Scotland Yard."

Mrs. Hudson was completely ignored. She had failed with her previous romantic partner not long ago, and she really couldn't stand the passionate atmosphere of the young couple.

"OK, isn't it just going to Scotland Yard, don't make it look like a farewell to death." After saying that, Mrs. Hudson ran back downstairs with her head in her arms.

Winsty lowered his head and smiled: "Yeah, you just went to Scotland Yard, and I just went to have afternoon tea with my third uncle, so don't make it look like we'll never meet again. And, it's because this is me It’s been so long since I’ve been in London, and it’s the first time I had afternoon tea with my third uncle, so he asked me to pay the bill, don’t you think it’s stingy?”

"It's really stingy." Sherlock affirmed.

"That's right, you go to Scotland Yard, I go to have afternoon tea with my third uncle, and then we go to eat Thai food together in the evening, okay?"

Sherlock thought for a while, and replied: "Okay."

"Goodbye." Wensty climbed onto Sherlock's shoulders with both hands, and gave him a light kiss on the face. When she was about to leave, she saw Sherlock's ears were red.

It turns out that she is not alone in feeling hot in cool weather.

Crowley did have an afternoon tea appointment with his cheap grandniece Winsty, but it was Wensty who offered to invite him. Uncle's reputation was hurt a little.

The place for afternoon tea was set at Crowley's house. He slept listening to rock music for ten days, only to wake up when he heard the phone ringing.

He was surprised when he heard Winsty's voice: "The phone number your mother gave you?"

"Yes." Wensty lied, she dialed his phone number 50 years later, who knew that he really hadn't changed his phone number all this time.

What's in the devil's house?Wensty didn't think about this before going to Crowley's house. She suddenly thought of it on the way. There should be skulls, rotting corpses and blood, after all, it is the home of demons.

But when she arrived, she realized that it was completely different from what she had imagined. The room was dark and without too many decorations. There was a medieval throne in the center, without skulls, carrion and blood. It was clean, and the room was full of green plants.

Crowley was still watering the plants in his apron when she arrived.

Crowley glanced at her: "If you have nothing to do, you must ask for something."

Winsty: "..."

He was right.

After watering the plants, Crowley gathered his strength and shouted, "Give me a good growth!"

Winsty had already spread the food she brought on a table. Under the dim light, even the most delicious food didn't look so appetizing. She looked around, and it seemed that the Crowley's house didn't have a lamp.

Crowley sat down across from her, snapped his fingers, and a light came from nowhere. With the light, the color of the food appeared saturated.

Winsty silently pushed a box of salted egg yolk malt biscuits in front of Crowley, which was his favorite snack.

Crowley glanced at it silently, picked up a piece, and a trace of comfort from ordinary human elders flashed under his calm expression. It's rare that the cheap grandniece still remembers his preferences, not bad.

"What's the matter with you coming to see me?"

This is the only human in the world today who knows that he is a demon.

It is not a good thing for humans to know their true identity. If it was Beelzebub and Hastur, they would have taken this human to hell long ago, but Crowley would not do this. He thinks it is nothing to be known by one or two humans. The big deal is, if she points at him and says, "This is a demon." He just needs to look at her quietly, and don't need to make any superfluous expressions, so that others will naturally treat her as crazy, and don't know Beelzebub and Ha Why is Sta so cautious?

The salted egg yolk malt biscuits made by Winsty are salty with a hint of sweetness, just the taste Crowley likes.

"Let me ask you some questions," Winsty said.

"Tell me." Crowley chewed the biscuits like a little raccoon. He always stuffed a lot into his mouth in one breath, and his cheeks on both sides were bulging.

"Is Jack the Ripper still alive?" Winsty looked at Crowley expectantly. To prove whether a person is dead or not, of course, asking the devil in hell is the most accurate way.

"If you have a lot of questions, I suggest you ask them all at once?"

Winsty nodded and followed the suggestion: "Do you know about the existence of the Book of the Dead, and if so, do you know the method to unseal the Book of the Dead?"

"Finished?"

"I'm done asking."

Crowley methodically swallowed all the biscuits and took a sip of tea.

"Do you know the story of Doctor Faustus?"

"You know, the devil Mephistopheles signed an agreement with Faust, he will meet all Faust's demands, and then take Faust's soul after his death, is this story true?"

"Well, it's more or less arty, but mostly true."

There was a light in Winsty's eyes: "So Faust really had a relationship with Helen?"

"That's artistic processing," Crowley pointed with two fingers, and a blank sheet of paper appeared in his hands. "The correct part is that if you seek help from the devil, you need to sign an agreement with him."

He unfolded the blank paper and placed it in front of Wensty.

"I'll just ask some questions."

"But this is not my obligation and responsibility. We have a professional manual. If it exceeds the scope of obligations and responsibilities, we need to sign an agreement. You can swear, Ligur is the one who did this, don't make a mistake."

"Then I will sign an agreement with you."

"It's so straightforward, but it's not that simple to sign an agreement. I won't agree to everything. Even if you are my relative, you have to say something that I really care about, but right now I don't care too much..."

"You help me answer the question, and I won't reveal the secret of your relationship with the angel."

There was a sly and clever light in Wensty's black grape-like eyes, and she really said a condition that Crowley cared about.

"How do you know Aziraphale is an angel?" Crowley sat up straight.

His identity was revealed to Winsty by the ghost in the theater, but the ghost would not know the identity of the angel.

"I guessed wildly. I made two bold guesses. First, I guessed that he was an angel. Second, I guessed that he was Bai Wuchang... As for officials from hell in Chinese mythology, the two of you had a close relationship, and then one wore The black clothes and the white clothes are not the same as black impermanence and white impermanence. There may be different sayings in the West. You are called the Duke of Hell, and he may be called Hell Shura or something, but if he is white impermanence, it is normal for you to communicate. You won't ask like just now, he is an angel, so do you care about the conditions I just raised?"

Writing appeared on the white paper in Wensty's hand.

"The deal goes into effect," Crowley said.

He makes a deal with Winsty and starts answering her questions.

"Jack the Ripper's soul is not in hell."

"He is full of evil, and his soul cannot go to heaven, so he really didn't die."

Sherlock's speculation was completely correct.

"The second question, yes, I do know the existence of the Book of the Dead. There are many ancient undead sealed in it. I have seen many of them. Later, with the appearance of demon hunters, the ancient undead were sealed in the book of the dead. Inside, the souls of many demon hunters did not go to heaven after they passed away, but instead formed a seal to suppress the undead in the Book of the Dead, and the souls of your ancestors are also part of the seal, and an evil sacrifice is required to undo the souls of the Book of the Dead."

"What kind of sacrifice?"

"I forgot."

This is like showing a suspense movie, and when all the mysteries are about to be solved, the power suddenly cuts off.

Wensty was at a loss for words.

"Hey, don't look at me like this. It's normal to not think about it. How long has it been? I have lived for more than 6000 years. Do you know what 6000 years is? Adam and Eve were kicked out of the Garden of Eden and I was there I've been through the battle of Troy, the battle of the gods, and the crucifixion. You've been through so much like me. See if you remember everything. Wait a minute, you won't suspect that I'm old, I have dementia, that's why I can't remember? Do you really think so, dementia is a disease of you humans, I won't get it, and I'm a demon with eternal lifespan. In terms of conversion, I should be about your age now .”