[Comprehensive Yingmei] Genius Lianmeng

Chapter5 The Redemption of Foodies

The plot is running upright.

Tracking error, back home, password location... Consulting detective went to the meeting alone, violent Teddy pursued the murderer...

After showing off his marksmanship with a precision comparable to that of a surgical operation, and neatly killing the badcabbie (bad taxi driver) who tried to kill Sherlock, Watson quietly removed the gunpowder burn marks on his hand, calmly Sneaked to the scene of the crime, pretending to have just received the news.

He is preparing to take the "frightened" and "need to be appeased" brat wearing a red carpet (Amitabha, this brat bet his life on a capsule just now for the victory of the game! It can be said that the bear is beyond the level, the bear is out out of style, bear out of the realm) to take home—and then he slipped into a state of dementia:

Mr. Bean's expressive, typical British face, hairline that looks congenitally deficient and runaway, a silk red tie with perfect dimples and a chic tie clip, and an umbrella that never leaves his hand... Sherlock's brother, The representative of the British government, who controls the British Intelligence Agency, and Mycroft Holmes, who also plays a guest role in the US CIA, makes a gorgeous debut!

The two brothers met on a narrow road, and with the sparks meeting the strong shock wave of gunpowder.

Watson had to bring this expression: _(:з」∠)_, to patiently listen to the two brothers' usual childish emotional disputes that started out boringly, went through a tragic process, and ended up hurting the innocent...

Damn it!

Curly hair is awkward and arrogant, you are a big brother, awkward and arrogant!

Will you die if you speak human words?Does expressing concern in human terms discredit your British government?

Sherlock's hobbies and problems of bullying goldfish are not because you were abused and used to it when you were young!

Teddy was so angry that he wanted to punch them one by one to wake them up.

However, thinking that the brain structure of the Holmes brothers is really not the same as that of goldfish (mostly because they lack the nerves to perceive other people's emotions), Watson also gave up the violent impulse.

Resisting the bad feeling of spitting out all the blood in his internal organs, he forcibly separated the pair of brothers who were arguing elegantly, without dirty words, with their nostrils up to the sky, and lowered the emotional intelligence of the whole London. Say, "I'm sorry, Sherlock was a bit irritated tonight, and you see he's still wearing a blanket. Since he hasn't eaten in twelve hours, I have to say goodnight to you, whoever you are."

"Try not to start a war until I get home, you know what the traffic jam will be like." Sherlock snapped back, "Mycroft Holmes."

"This adds another rich touch to the list of your reckless actions."

"And what records you is a notebook."

Ever since he was sent to the Rotten Kingdom by the Abnormal Human Research Center, on the one hand, Watson has evolved towards the expression emperor, and on the other hand, he deeply regrets that expressions are not enough... At this moment, he really doesn't know how to twist his facial muscles Only in this way can he make an appropriate expression to express his bitter heart.

Of course, as far as the matter is concerned, the Abnormal Human Research Center still treated him very preferentially, endowing him with a second life, a doctorate, superb medical skills, real battlefield experience, and most importantly, a calmness that is growing day by day and has no tendency to stagnate and stamina...

Competitive, arrogant, and willful brats... there is more than one!

Watson turned away dejectedly, raised his head, and reminded the giant baby beside him, "I'm so hungry that my chest is on my back."

In the night dotted with car lights, street lights and neon lights, Sherlock's translucent irises were smudged into grayish blue, which matched his dark blue scarf very well.

"There is a good Chinese restaurant at the end of Beckett Street, which is open until two o'clock in the morning. The quality of the Chinese restaurant can be seen from the newness of the lower half of the doorknob..." Once the show-off mode was turned on, Sherlock showed that seemingly The expression of "please praise me, please praise me, I am very good, quickly praise me" is calm and eager.

It's really like a big cat that people love and hate and can't do anything about him...

"Then I have to appreciate and appreciate it. I haven't touched Chinese food for a long time." The 24-hour high-intensity experience of another world made Watson miss all the familiar things.

He stood on tiptoe, took off the blanket covering Sherlock's shoulders, stuffed it into the hands of Inspector Lestrade who was walking towards him, and said in a steely and irresistible tone: "I must supervise Sherlock's eating, If you want him to live to the next case."

"Only an idiot would try to pick on his doctor, Jack." Sherlock waved at the Inspector, mistaking his name again.

Inspector: "...Okay, tomorrow." The life of dealing with Sherlock Holmes can be called a textbook of blood and tears, and he has already learned the lesson, that is-never try to fight against Holmes, no matter how big or small. Still small.

The medic and the detective walk side by side (it's still very difficult to walk side by side, after all, the height difference between the two), throwing the hard-working detective and the brooding McGonagall into the colorful night.

"You are willing to take risks just to prove that you are smarter than him. You must enjoy it?" Watson let go of his companion's sleeves and resumed his soldier's walking posture - with his short arms and short legs teddy bear For his tall figure, this posture is really cute.

"Why should I do this?" He caught his companion's gaze and said with lowered eyes.

"Because you are anidiot." Watson put his hands behind his back, his body leaned forward slightly, his lower lip was slightly pouted, and he acted like a foul.

The consulting detective, who has always been known for his non-surprise and endless talk, did not try to refute the facts this time. On the contrary, the corners of his mouth slowly raised upwards, the dimples on his cheeks gradually showed dew, and on the full lips with distinct lines, There was a smile almost like the case of finding three nicotine patch grades, happy, joyful, and self-satisfied.

It was a contagious smile that made it impossible not to respond.

Then, he pursed his lips awkwardly, tightened the muscles of his cheeks, and tried to press the smile back—but he was unsuccessful. Cat eyes burst out.

They walked into the bright night, hungry, but full of spirits.

Of course, the good times are always short-lived...

At three o'clock in the morning, the piercing music trembled into Watson's ears through the molecules of the air.

Watson, who was so frightened awake, was furious.

Although Watson's temper was mild compared with the meat-eating and angry Westerners, he was convinced that he was not so good-tempered that he would turn a blind eye to late-night hauntings.

Watson rushed downstairs angrily, and in the living room, Sherlock was wearing baggy purple pajamas - Watson's favorite color, which perfectly set off his snow-white skin.He removed the bow from the violin and swung it a few times like a fencing sword, disturbing the distribution of molecules in the air.Then he lowered his bow, and raised his tall and narrow nose to the ceiling, as if an angel was looking up at the holy light for a moment.

"Haveaseat, John." Sherlock the Angel Holmes said in a most amiable manner.

Am I supposed to be thankful that he doesn't at least adorn the walls with pistols to blow off steam?

Watson rubbed his sleepy eyes, looked at Sherlock who was full of energy but lacked in EQ, couldn't stop the medicine but gave up the treatment, sighed deeply, shrugged his shoulders resignedly, and rubbed his already stiff face vigorously , the Oscar winner squeezed out a smile that was as tragic as a bereaved concubine.

Then, while scolding himself for being worthless, he decided to... go to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

The cat is indeed a nocturnal creature... How can he have such a high IQ, and an EQ that is half the number after removing the hundreds.

Wait, there doesn't seem to be an inevitable logical connection between these two sentences?

Western kitchens are open because there is less oily smoke when cooking.The stove is not an open flame but an electric stove, and the temperature can be adjusted.The bottom of the electric stove is divided into upper and lower parts. The upper layer is an oven for baking toast, and the lower layer is an oven for baking potatoes, pizza and meat.The wall covered with small green bricks is spotless, while the gray-green painted wall on the left is full of dizzying kitchen utensils: egg beaters, egg cutters, garlic squeezers, pizza wheels, peelers, colander, potato masher and can opener...

Frying utensils, large and small knives, pots and pans, measuring cups, measuring spoons, scales and timers are piled up everywhere, just as messy as the dining table——Watson looked angrily at the large-scale chemical experiment equipment occupying the dining table ——Iron stands, beakers, measuring cylinders, tweezers, droppers, Erlenmeyer flasks, jars, evaporating dishes... During this period, he fully reviewed high school chemistry.

Watson curled his lips in distaste, resisting the desire to flush the mess on the table into the toilet, and opened the refrigerator to look for ingredients.

In the freezer was an onion, three tomatoes, four eggs, some glass and tin cans, and a large piece of fresh liver wrapped in plastic wrap.

Don't Westerners refuse to eat animal offal?

Watson took out the liver suspiciously, preparing to make a liver tip.

"I think you may be guessing the mysteries of life, John, but I still suggest you put it back, after all, it is Mrs. Lily Smith's organ." Sherlock straightened the belt of his pajamas behind him and said energetically .

"Oh*..." Watson held his forehead with one hand, and quickly stuffed the liver back into the refrigerator with the other hand, and closed the refrigerator door forcefully with a "bang", as if shutting out the door of a beast that was chasing him with all its might.

After a while, he pulled it away cautiously and tremblingly with an attitude of "I hope the opening method is right this time".

After perfecting his psychological construction, Watson took out three tomatoes like walking on thin ice, held them with a fork, and lit the alcohol lamp on the dining table. Tear off the outer skin of the tomato, and then cut it with a sliding knife.

If there is no peanut oil, butter is used instead. Watson added a lot of butter to the frying pan (the frying pan commonly used in China is not available here), and was frying it when a hand holding tomato sauce stretched out from behind.

The pale and slender fingers, paired with bright red ketchup, are as elegant, weird, inconsistent and eerie as a vampire drinking blood.

Watson let the butter melt and boil in the pan—he felt that his three views had all fallen into it—and asked tremblingly, "You, you... why are you in the kitchen?"

"Fry with some ketchup." Sherlock stood sideways, wearing a purple nightgown, holding red ketchup in his hand, commanding as a matter of course.

Such home attire can be worn by him like a three-piece suit... In short, Sherlock really doesn't fit the aura of the kitchen-Watson is talking about real kitchen utensils, not full of kitchen utensils and doves. Nest of experimental equipment.

"You know how to cook?" Watson's three views crackled in the butter.

"Cooking is nothing more than a chemical experiment with food, without any challenge or research value." Sherlock stuffed the ketchup into the hands of his roommate, and began to walk around the kitchen leisurely - like a cockroach , patrolling the territory, and a big cat with an explosive sense of presence, wagging its tail and taking catwalks, stumbling no matter how it looks.

Watson resigned himself to adding the tomato sauce to the butter and stir frying, adding chopped tomatoes, adding water, adding a sufficient amount of chicken essence, adjusting the sauce, turning to low heat, and pouring in the beaten eggs in a circle.Stir the egg liquid to mix it with the tomato sauce. Watson tasted it and removed it from the pot when it was half-cooked.

The bright red and golden yellow in the pot are in the state of slippery eggs.

The residual heat in the pot continued to ripen the tomato and eggs, while Watson toasted a few slices of toast in the oven.

Next, spread a spoonful of tomato and eggs on the toast, and then spread another spoonful on the other piece of toast. After the tomato juice and egg juice seeped into the bread, Watson stacked the two pieces of toast together to make a sandwich , handed it to Sherlock who was brushing his presence in the kitchen, a pair of dark blue round eyes were as bright as the night sky without light pollution: "This is what I want to show you, the mystery of life."

In 27 years, for the first time in his life, Sherlock fell into the unique emotions of "gazing" and "laughing and crying" unique to goldfish.

"The true meaning of life starts with delicious food! Life may not require exercise, but life must be eaten! I suggest you eat it as soon as possible, Sherlock, it will not be so delicious when it is cold." Watson looked at the ice sculpture eagerly. Companions, in the language of inflammatory advertising.

It's like a teddy bear begging him to accept his most precious gift with its watery round eyes... This expression only lasted for a second, and then Watson quickly made himself a tomato and egg sandwich, clean Eat up neatly.

He moved his cheeks bulging, squinted his eyes, satisfied, completely immersed in the food, as if he had swallowed his tongue.

Sherlock's eyes fell on his lips, stained bright red with tomato juice.

and many more……

What a foul for licking lips!