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

Winsty smelled of trees.

She said a lot of words, but Sherlock didn't answer a word, the lights under the mountain were imprinted in his eyes, his expression was tense, Wensty was not Sherlock, she couldn't judge his thinking activities at the moment by his expression .

What would Sherlock be thinking?

Would he think that what she said so much was meaningless?

Wensti didn't know why she said so many things to him inexplicably, and just told him whatever was on her mind.

It may be that he was found to have heterochromia. Sherlock said that only his family knew about it, and he himself could not tell what color his eyes were.

"I know," said Winsty, gazing into his eyes, "that it's a nice color."

Her compliments for Sherlock have been getting smoother lately.

At that time, her palms blocked the sun's light, and Sherlock's eyes turned a color of dove gray, like a gray cloud floating in the sky.

It's amazing.

Winsty: "So I figured out a big secret."

She knows this secret that only Sherlock's family members know, so she will tell him about the family affairs, is it an equivalent exchange?

But she didn't have the mentality of equal exchange when she told Sherlock's family.

On a big camphor tree that had lost all its leaves, Winsty and Sherlock sat side by side. They didn't have to worry about falling from the tree. They were safe. The summer evening wind blew over with warm heat, Blow on the skin.

Winsty: "You don't have anything to say?"

It was like a one-man show, she had already finished her lines, but Sherlock didn't answer for a long time.

With him like this, she was going to rush the show for the unnecessary audience.

Sherlock looked at Winsty: "You said before..."

His eyes were exceptionally deep. When he stared at Wensti motionlessly, even her breathing slowed down, like a drowning person, falling layer by layer into the sea.

"say what?"

"People who are not ticklish have a hard heart. Is there any basis for this?"

He asked such a fun-destroying question with the look and tone of a movie hero.

Winsty avoided his eyes, looked away, and saw that she was holding Sherlock's hand so tightly that she hadn't let go of it since she had pulled it from Duo's mouth.

"It seems that I read it from a book a long time ago. I forgot how to explain it."

Wensty let go of Sherlock's hand calmly, and his eyes drifted to the distance. The lights of thousands of families below the mountain were like a long river of stars.

Wensti had followed the Great Elder to hunt down night demons, and had seen lights like a galaxy. The Great Elder had a satisfied and loving expression on his face.

He told her that behind every lamp is a family, and the witcher protects the lamps from undead ghosts.

The wind blew his robe, a long robe passed down his life's faith to the younger generation.

She thought of the words of the Great Elder, and felt that she was far away from the old man with white hair and white beard, and she couldn't remember his face clearly.

The soft warmth in Sherlock's hands disappeared, and his brows furrowed.

"Only parts with high sensory density are afraid of itching, and itching is a physiological feeling."

Sherlock abruptly pulled back Wensty's thoughts that drifted into her memory. She was falling into the sentimentality of reminiscing, and immediately heard his extremely rational term again.

Sherlock was here, and Winsty felt like she was carrying an encyclopedia of artificial intelligence with her.

"When you feel an itch, the sensory organs send messages to your brain and spinal cord," he said.

"Understood." Wensty yawned and spoke perfunctorily with a lisp.

"The brain is the headquarters of neural responses."

"That's right." Winsty agreed, thinking that it was time for Gary to send them down, she didn't want to be taught biology in a tree.

"It includes the secretion of hormones."

"of course."

Winsty patted Gary, and it was time to send the two of them down.

"This means that the part of you that is ticklish is the part that is most likely to arouse your hormone secretion. In other words, it is the most sensitive and emotional part of you."

Gary stretched out the branches to wrap Sherlock and Winsty, and sent them to the ground smoothly.

Wensti, whose feet were clearly standing firmly on the ground, now felt that she was in the sky without any support.

Sherlock's words reached her verbatim.

She stared at Sherlock, the tips of her ears turning slightly red.

The latter has a calm face, and there is a bit of a breezy temperament in the night. He uses her professional knowledge that she cannot fight back to refute the statement that "people who are not ticklish have a hard heart".

It's almost like Tyrannosaurus rex bullying Compsognathus.

Sherlock saw Winsty standing there in a daze: "Do you want me to say it again?"

Maybe she just came down from the tree and didn't quite understand what he said.

Look, how kind he is, if it were before, he would not repeat the same knowledge point again.

So why was Winsty staring at him!

"no need."

Wensty hurried into the house, her ears that were not so red from the front looked so red from the back that they were about to bleed.

Sherlock's mind was racing.

He concluded: "Are you shy?"

Winsty was poked in the heart, and her face was as red as an overripe apple.

"no!"

The mouth of the cooked duck is still hard.

"Your ears are red, this is an obvious physiological reaction..."

Winsty interrupted him: "That's because I'm hot, summer is here, and I feel too hot."

She had long forgotten that she had reminded Sherlock that Bloom Town was colder before returning to Broome Town and asked him to bring thicker clothes.

Sherlock didn't remind her of this, and with his hands in his pockets, he walked silently behind Wensty, with the corners of his mouth curled up, in a particularly good mood.

Walking from outside the manor to the second floor of the castle, Wensty's mood calmed down a lot, and she led Sherlock out of the room prepared for the guests.

Wensti took a deep breath, pretending that nothing happened: "Sir, you've been living here for the past few days, and the sheets and bedding are all new. If you need anything, just come to me."

Her room is next door to his.

Sherlock nodded.

"Then, good night."

Wensty felt that she had really experienced a catastrophe just now, and she hadn't completely calmed down yet, so she had to hide under the quilt and get a good night's sleep.

Sherlock called to her.

"Anything else?"

"How many people know that you are ticklish?"

"Except for you, my parents should know."

I don't know why he asked this question?

"Then," he paused, "don't let others know."

After finishing speaking, he opened the door of the room extremely quickly, and quickly closed it again.

Wensty froze at his door for a while, then quickly ran back to the room, closed the door, and her little face, which had finally calmed down, turned red again.

Sherlock dropped such a sentence, does he know that it is easy to make people think too much.

The heartbeat of Sherlock, who was only separated from Winsty by a wall, reached the rate he had only reached after a long-distance run.

The room was pitch black, and he didn't turn on the light, trying to wake up his brain in the dark night, but his thinking became more and more chaotic due to the pure black.

He turned on the light and found a huge flying knife plate hanging from the ceiling of the room, with various flying knives hanging from it, like crystal pendants on the chandelier.

Thanks to Sherlock, who has seen big winds and waves, he quickly got used to the lifestyle of the Adams family, and walked to the bed quietly without making a fuss.

His phone rang in his pocket with a missed call and a message from a number he had never seen before.

He clicked on:

Hello, Mr. Holmes.I'm Daniel who drove you here today. I didn't go down the mountain. The car stopped in the forest. If you are in danger, please feel free to contact me.

Above Sherlock's head is a hanging flying cutterhead, shining brightly under the light.

He replied to Daniel: No, you go back to Mycroft, I'll be fine.

Daniel was in the depths of the forest, and occasionally he heard the sound of hares and boars running away in the secret night.

He was already very tired, but he braced himself and stared straight in the direction of Adams Manor, ready to drive there at any time.

But Sherlock Holmes sent him back to the magistrate.

Could it be that he was kidnapped?

He sent another one to Sherlock: Are you really safe?

Sherlock was already lying on the bed, and what Wensty said tonight was still echoing in his mind. He glanced at Daniel's message and did not reply. Instead, he sent a message to Mycroft: transfer Daniel away.

Sherlock slept deeply, and woke up even later than usual. The door next door was closed tightly. At this time, Winsty must not have woken up.

He went downstairs and saw Morticia holding a bouquet of delicate roses.

Morticia saw him and waved his hand gracefully: "Good morning."

"Good morning, Mrs. Adams."

Morticia was about to make a flower arrangement when she saw Sherlock and remembered what Wensty told her: "Mr. Holmes..."

"Sherlock is fine."

"Okay, Sherlock, Winsty left you a cake in the kitchen. If you're hungry, you can have breakfast first."

"Where did she go?"

"She went down to the hotel early in the morning to find First, who was her uncle."

—————The following is a small theater that everyone loves———

In addition to the knowledge that "people who are not ticklish are hard-hearted", which has no scientific nutrition, Winsty also knows some other messy knowledge that Sherlock calls useless.

For example, after she got used to the situation where Sherlock blushed because of a word, she learned to "fight back".

"Sir, my ears are red, which means someone is thinking about me, and I think it's you who are thinking about me."

She is righteous.

"If your IQ is as thick as your face, I think it will be very high. I hope the information you take in can stand up to some arguments. However, although what you say is groundless and completely groundless Nutrition, but it does one thing right, yes, I'm thinking of you."

作者有话要说：感谢在2020-03-2521:11:23~2020-03-2619:37:34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 irrigation nutrient solution: Mo Xiao, 5 bottles of False;

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