[Sherlock] The Rose and You

The author has something to say: Overhaul the text

When happiness dies one by one in the vortex of the times, it is satisfied in a small place. - Goethe's "Faust"

When Qiao Wei woke up, it was already late at night.

The room was very dark, but a lamp was placed thoughtfully, the light was soft but enveloped the room, with a touch of warmth.

But at this moment, she has no time to take care of the surrounding environment——she has a splitting headache, and stories are playing in her mind like a horse watching flowers, about the joy and hardship of the girl's growth, and the girl lives proudly and firmly under the doting of her brother, as if In order to get close to her elder brother, she learned equestrianism, business, etc., until she fell off a strong horse because she was framed by a friend on the equestrian field, and all the scenes came to an abrupt end here.

The person's name is in the mind.

Syweine.

Sylvie Hogsmoots.

Qiao Wei smiled bitterly.

At this time, no matter how stupid you are, you should react and time travel by yourself.

The year in my mind is 1872.

A hundred years is like a passing cloud, and it is gone in a blink of an eye.Qiao Wei is a staunch atheist. For unexplainable mysteries like Bermuda, she would rather believe that there are aliens in this world than that it is an act of God.

But the girl Sylvie had faith, and her faith was her brother, Zoya.

Zoya Hogmorts.

From that memory, Qiao Wei could clearly feel Xi Weini's wholehearted trust in Zoya and Zoya's wholehearted love for Xi Weini.

So serious, it's enviable.

Qiao Wei has no relatives.She has lived for more than twenty years, and the only friends who are considered friends are probably Qiao Xi and Qiao Li. Their relationship is more of a sympathy for each other. If it must beautify it, it can also be said to be sympathy.

After all they are the same.

After all, they are different from others.

She deeply remembered that she was accidentally lost at that time and was lucky to be taken in by a family. At that time, she was unsophisticated. In order to express her gratitude, she told the hostess of the house the source of the perfume on her husband's clothes.

"LOCCITANE, from Provence, France, is expensive. Your husband's shirt is contaminated with a lot of this perfume, and the layout is not neat. It is obviously infected when it is interlaced with clothes."

Point to end.

But enough to make the hostess understand.

But she didn't know that the hostess' family was poor, and she was interested in the man's money, so no matter how many affairs the man had, she didn't care.

After all, it is not her love.

So what she got in the end was not gratitude, but a "monster".

And she was taken back to the institute shortly after that, and never went out alone again.

What does freedom taste like?

she kept thinking.

But now, she has become Xi Weini.

It is said that guilt is inevitable, but more of it is a kind of joy.

Freedom from the joys of the past.

This is new life.

The accompanying dreams come true.

Qiao Wei tentatively got up from the bed slowly, her hands were still a little soft, but the severe pain in her memory was gone, she wanted to stand up, but her legs kept shaking.

But she gritted her teeth and persisted.

Slowly move to the window, open the small window, outside the window is a beautiful manor, the evergreen trees are trimmed neatly, the evening wind blows, there is a rustling sound, like a song played by the evening wind.

The night sky is dotted with starlight, the moonlight is very bright, as if it can illuminate people's hearts, and the light floral fragrance sent by the wind seems to be sweet and a taste of freedom.

She suddenly thought of Bian Zhilin's "Broken Chapter"——

You stand on the bridge looking at the scenery, and the people watching the scenery look at you upstairs.

The bright moon adorns your windows, and you adorn other people's dreams.

At this moment, whose dream does she decorate?

########

at the same time.

Zoya is an orthodox aristocrat, but not a gentleman in the traditional sense. His parents died and he had to take care of his young sister, which made him understand the world and the darkness and filth hidden under the surface of gentlemen and ladies prematurely.

He has many friends, but not many close friends. Sherlock Holmes can be counted as one.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Zoya frowned, "It won't take a while for the investigation of drugs to be dealt with. I can help you get involved in that organization, but drugs, if you are not careful, you may become addicted of."

Although he is not considered an orthodox gentleman, Zoya is handsome and extraordinary, with light complexion and deep blue eyes. The lines of his face are perfect, like a work of art from God. At this moment, his face is worried, and it is a little bit more Soft obsequiousness.

"No, I won't." The speaker was a not-so-handsome man. His aquiline nose and protruding chin formed a very resolute line of his face.His expression was resolute, but a little pale, probably because he was thinking at the moment, as if his soul had left, his eyes were blurred and his fingers were crossed.

He has a temperament and a wise calm that ordinary men don't have.

Zoya sighed.

He knows how confident and stubborn the other party is.He can't convince him.

This time, if the spread of drugs was not too wide, he would not bother Sherlock, but he would never have thought that the other party wanted to risk himself.

Sherlock was indeed the smartest person he had ever met, but this time, since the opponent was able to distribute drugs among the nobles, his background was definitely not weak.

Even, if you think about it from a pessimistic point of view, it is very likely that it was written by that person.

However, just as Zoya thought about it, she overturned her own thoughts.

If it was really that person who did it, he would never be able to find out anything.

After all, that man was the most dangerous criminal in London, and he was just a businessman.

"I understand." Finally he compromised.

"I will forge your identity for you and send you to the bottom of that organization. It's up to you how far you can go."

Holmes moved his lips, but he still didn't say "thank you" in the end.

This is what he asked for.

He took the note written to him by the other party. There were faint handwriting on the note, which was covered by the pocket, showing only a faint "A" shape.

He turned his head and walked out.

There were nocturnal birds singing in the evening wind, and his eyes couldn't help but chase them away.

Then, he saw the girl by the window.

With just one glance, he turned his gaze away.

"Miss who is sad for spring and autumn." He thought.

"Mr. Strange," she thought.

Destiny always starts with chance encounters and coincidences.

that's all.