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

"Sherlock..."

"You know me? With all due respect, when we meet for the first time, you should not call me by my Christian name." His eyes were calm.

Winsty closed her eyes. Mycroft told her about a past event. Sherlock's friend "Redbeard" died in an accident. It was the first friend in his life. The only friend, Sherlock, couldn't accept his death, so he rewrote his memory, and "Redbeard" became a pet dog in his memory.

He should have applied the same method to her death, "Winsty" might have been just an ordinary Wednesday to him.

Winsty was no longer in his memory, and her appearance had also changed, so what stood in front of Sherlock at this moment was just a strange stranger.

"I'm a demon hunter." Winsty closed his eyes, with a smile on the corner of his mouth, "I admire you very much, so I brought you a cake."

When Freddy heard what Wensty said, her little head poked out from behind her again: "You are a witcher, what a coincidence, my aunt is also a witcher!"

"I know that Wensty Adams, who was sacrificed on the day that prevented the lifting of the seal of the Book of the Dead, died with the spirit of the evil spirit."

"Agnes Fuzi's Sophisticated and Accurate Prophecy Book" is indeed worthy of the "sophisticated and accurate" slogan on the name. In fact, Agnes Fuzi herself has long predicted that this book will only be published in one volume. One volume will be burned by younger generations, so a reprinted version was handed over to relatives, the Adams family. "Exquisite and accurate" was not added to the title of the book for the sake of sales. She predicted everything accurately.

Sherlock Holmes obtained the key key to unlock the seal of the Book of the Dead. That key is the body of Wensty Adams, who was occupied by the two souls of Wensty and the ghost of the ghost. Wensty Adams also died to stop the undead. The day the book was sealed.

However, she was killed by Sherlock's gun that day, how could he forget all about it?

Winsty secretly looked at Sherlock, his eyes resting on the basket in her hand.

Winsty held out her hand and handed him the basket.

"Has there been another wave of searching for me? I thought that no one has found me for so many years, and you have given up. If there is another wave of searching for me, it seems that I have to consider moving."

Sherlock didn't take it directly.

Winsty: "No, I'm the only one who wants to come to you this time."

"Just tell me," he looked at her, "what can you do to me."

"Uh... I'm revising the history of demon hunters. I have some questions about the part of the Book of the Dead that I want to ask you. This is my greeting gift." Wensty handed the basket forward.

Her eyes, like glass beads, are full of sincerity.

She expected him to expose her casual lies, and she expected him to say with a cold face: Wensty Adams, your lies are easy to see through.

He took her basket: "Inside is...cake."

"Yeah, it's cake, it just doesn't taste very good," said Freddy.

"Little devil, if you say the taste is not very good, it means that the taste is exceptionally good."

He didn't expose her lie.

Or had he been unable to discern that it was her lie?

"Cream cake, ma'am, have you considered the risk of increased blood lipids for someone my age who eats cream cake?"

"No..." Winsty replied in a low voice.

When she made the cake, she had forgotten that it was 50 years later and he was already a white-haired old man.

She pictured herself running into Sherlock's arms, apologizing for being fifty years late with his birthday cake.

"I'm sorry," said Winsty, her voice trembling a little.

He's right, she's not a particularly bright person.There is already a third generation in Pugsli, so how can Sherlock keep his youthful appearance?

In 50 years, the town of Broome has changed from simple to modern, the sapling has become a big tree, the weeds on the plain have been blown fifty times by the spring breeze, and the years have opened the distance between them in a cruel way.

That nasty sore nose was back.

"I'm afraid tears will come out in the next second when you look like this. I'm right. I will tell you some stories about the Book of the Dead, but not because of your tears. Ma'am, you are still young, and you must know that tears can't solve the problem." Any problem can only reflect the incompetence of the weak. I am willing to tell you the story of the Book of the Dead just because," he paused after speaking quickly, "I haven't eaten such a cream cake for a long time. , it’s no big deal to taste it once in a while.”

He picked up the basket, leaned closer to smell it, and said with a smile, "It smells delicious, I believe it will taste good."

There were two wet tear stains at the corners of Wensty's eyes. She raised her head, and when she saw him smiling and the corners of his eyes were full of wrinkles, she wanted to reach out and hug him.

But her legs seemed to be filled with lead, and she couldn't move a step.

"It doesn't taste very good!" said Freddy, who had tasted it and it really didn't taste very good.

"Your taste doesn't represent mine, Freddy, do you stay here or follow Luke home?"

"Isn't there a story to listen to? I want to stay here."

"This is what you said."

Sherlock winked at Luke, and Luke walked away silently. It was really hard for such a tall man to leave without making a sound.

"Of course I said it. Is there anyone else here who can answer for me?"

"You don't have stories to listen to when you stay here, only math problems."

"Ah!" Freddy exclaimed, so he shouldn't stay here anymore. When he looked back, Luke had already gone a long way, so he quickly chased after him.

Children are children after all, and they run extremely fast.

Just like Anderson was too angry to speak before, Sherlock also had a mischievous smile on his face when he saw Freddy fleeing.

Even though he has entered the seventies, Mr. Sherlock Holmes is still like a child, so he will be very happy at this time.

Wensti's eyes were shining, he avoided her gaze, and turned around: "Come in."

Wensty walked in, and the decoration of his house was exactly the same as when he lived on Baker Street. The desks, sofas, and bookcases were placed in the same position. The house was messy, with books and experimental tools everywhere. When she saw the microwave, she was pretty sure she could find an eyeball in it.

Sherlock sat on one end of the two single sofas, and Winsty sat on the other end opposite him.

"I won't give you tea. If you feel thirsty, you can pour it yourself. The tea set is here..."

"In the second closet in the kitchen."

"You have very keen observation skills."

There were indeed a few teacups and a teapot in the second closet in the kitchen, but this was not what she observed. She had lived in a house with exactly the same decoration and was very familiar with everything here.

"It's not just observation, sir, I feel like I've lived in a room like this before."

"It's just an illusion," he said. "What do you want to know from me? I'll give you three questions."

Three questions...

first question.

"Winsty Adams, do you remember her?"

"I don't remember, but judging from the name, he is a relative of the Adams family." He replied.

"Where were you the day the book of the dead was unsealed?"

"The seal of the Book of the Dead has never been lifted."

"Yes, if the seal of the Book of the Dead were removed, the world would not be like this now. One last question," Winston pointed to a piece of porcelain on the wall cabinet, "Have you ever been to China?"

Thin neck, round belly, ring feet, a bluish-white vase, noble and clear, very typical Chinese style, this is extra from her memory, the place where Mr. Skeleton was placed before.

"I've been to China," Sherlock replied, getting up and opening the door. "You just asked your last question."

He's giving an eviction order.

But Winsty was still sitting on the sofa, looking at the vase, and asked, "Who did you go with?"

"You just asked your last question." He repeated, but compromised under the girl's gaze.

Her eyes were like the wind blowing a pool of clear springs.

"With my friend John."

Wensti turned her head slowly, quite surprised: "Your friend?"

"John Watson, you probably read his blog, he's well known on the Internet."

The guy who said he wouldn't have friends made friends with whom he could travel long distances.

The setting sun ran in through the door, leaving an orange-red light on the floor.

"Your question is over, you should leave."

Wensti still wanted to find some opportunities to stay here for a while, but his attitude was very decisive.

Sherlock sent her to the door. Although he was old, he was still taller than ordinary old people, blocking everything on Baker Street behind him.

"gentlemen……"

"Don't reveal my whereabouts to anyone, I don't like to be disturbed."

"I won't tell. I'll come see you tomorrow."

Winsty has already considered it, she can find an excuse to live in Adams Manor, and Luke will help her, so that she can visit Sherlock every day.

His expression was indifferent: "I mean don't like to be disturbed, I don't like to be disturbed by anyone, including you."

"But……"

Before she could finish her sentence, the door was closed.

The sun was setting little by little, welcoming the Adams family's favorite night. Under the caress of the evening wind, the white roses were all dyed with the aftertaste of the setting sun.

Wensty walked under the setting sun with heavy steps, she was wrapped in a burst of powerlessness, and suddenly felt that the world was extraordinarily large, and she was just alone.

When the music drifted over, Wensty was slightly taken aback.

The last time she played the piece, it was a beautiful summer night when she gave Morticia and Gomez a wedding present of her favorite piece.

somewhereintime, somewhere in time...

Winsty turned around in the intoxicated sunset, and she ran towards the house with the red roof.

With every step back, the music gets louder.

Wensty walked through the bushes and rose fields, startling a flurry of butterflies.

In the corridor of Sherlock, playing a violin, he saw a figure like a sparrow in spring leaping in front of him.

"Why are you back again?"

He has said that he doesn't like to be disturbed by anyone. Why doesn't this little girl understand what he means?

Cranky Grandpa is going to lose his temper.

But before he lost his temper, Wensty had already wrapped his arms around his waist regardless.

His body was stiff, and all the blood in his body seemed to be flowing backwards.

"Sherlock, I know you remember me, and I know you recognize me."

Winsty buried her head in his arms, trying to catch the slipping years.

Sherlock's hands dropped.

"I don't know you." His voice was low, his eyes looked at the distant sun, the sunset was still very bright, but no matter how bright it was, the night would swallow it.

"You are lying."

Wensty's voice was already crying, and she felt that Sherlock wanted to push her away, so she hugged her even tighter.

He is a liar, he must have recognized her long ago.

"Let go," his voice became serious, and Freddie was terrified every time he heard him say that. "What's the matter with a little girl like you holding me like this, an old man?"

His hand reached behind to break her arm around his waist.

"I don't want to! Sherlock, let me stay and take care of you, okay?"

Even if he stepped into Guxi, he was still stronger than her. He broke her arm, pushed her away, turned around immediately, and closed the door heavily.

"Little girl, maybe because of the records in the exorcist's history book, you have a feeling of admiration for me, and you want to take care of me when you see me so old. But please realize that you are still young, and there are many in this world. Good things, you have never seen them before, don't waste your life on me, an old man."

His voice came through the wooden door.

"You should go see the vast world and taste the delicious things in the world," Sherlock leaned against the door, looking at the basket on the coffee table, which contained the small cakes she made, and hadn't tasted it yet. Just smelling the smell made him very sure that the cake must taste the same as it did 50 years ago, with a satisfied smile on his face, "You still have a long and beautiful life, you have to work hard to finish it. "

Someone will love you.

This sentence is what he said silently in his heart.

She is so cute, whether it was before or now, I will definitely meet many people who love her.

Sherlock was absolutely sure of this.

He closed his eyes and raised his voice: "Get out of here quickly, if you come back again, I will move."

"Then you move, I have spirit butterflies, they can always find you." Wensti rubbed her eyes, no longer suppressing her emotions.

Sherlock was helpless.

Why is this little girl still so stubborn, still not smart, and doesn't understand what he means?

"Sherlock, I won't come here," she shouted outside the door, "I will go back to find you, I will go back to the past, I will definitely do it, you can wait for me there."

When Sherlock opened the door again, the thin figure was no longer visible outside the house.

The sun went down and night covered the sky.

The author has something to say: Tomorrow is another beautiful day.

感谢在2020-05-2409:21:24~2020-05-2509:36:07期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels of the irrigation nutrient solution: 10 bottles of Rose; 5 bottles of Optimist; Dou Sen is my husband, 1 bottle of Rongyu;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!