[Comprehensive] Today is also proving to Sherlock that I am a traveler

On December 25, the Christmas bell rang, and London finally ushered in a heavy snow on the night before Christmas, which buried half of London without warning.

Sitting in a well-heated room, Krista read a long, scrawled letter from her father, in unclear sentences, congratulating her on coming of age.She couldn't figure out what her father was doing to send her such a letter.

The lit candle danced back and forth between the light and shadow, drawing out the slender shadow of the girl.

Sherlock unwrapped his gift from the Christmas tree early in the morning. A pair of dark green mittens lay on the bottom of the carton. Warm wool was used to croche a few simple stitches. The top of the gloves was specially woven with a detective pattern. Name.

Christa had already finished reading the letter. Seeing the detective trying to put the gloves on, the two finger cots woven into the shape of rabbit ears moved slightly. There was a silly smiling face under the finger cots, which was very cute.

The detective stared at the two rabbit ears for a moment.

Sherlock who left the case suddenly felt cuter than a rabbit.Christa couldn't help laughing, "Xiali, this pattern is very similar to you."

The detective, who had his own ideas about dressing taste, stared at the cute and cute rabbit for a long time, took off the gloves, and stuffed them into his coat pocket.

"Why don't you wear it? It's so cute. I specially designed the pattern for you." Christa tilted her head, her tone was innocent and soft, but the teasing meaning in it couldn't be ignored.

Compared with Sherlock's indescribable birthday present, Krista felt that her present could not be better.

Sherlock's gift, she would never give it a second look.That kind of thing should be locked at the bottom of the cabinet so don't let it run out to scare people.

"I wouldn't wear this kind of thing." Sherlock looked disgusted, "Mrs. Hudson also has it?"

"Of course." Christa opened the refrigerator and said casually: "It was prepared a long time ago. Originally, Cecil would have a copy if he could stay until after Christmas. Unfortunately, he left too early. So I dismantled the Then I wove a scarf with the rest of the thread... What did you put in my cherry jam, Sherlock?"

"That's not yours."

"Mrs. Hudson bought it. Mrs. Hudson said you don't need these and gave them to me." Christa muttered, closing the lid again, "You shouldn't put food and eyeballs together... microbiological culture You can't do this like you..."

She held the jam jar, "What other weird fingers and eyes do you put in the refrigerator? I think the trash can is where they end up."

"Of course these slimy things should have more important value than eating." Sherlock almost jumped up from the sofa.

"No matter what other great value it has, the first mission of food is to be eaten." Krista slammed the refrigerator door, "I took your babies out, you can't put them in the same place as food A refrigerator, or you buy another refrigerator, or you donate your body every day to be a breeding ground for these microorganisms."

"...Okay. I'll buy another refrigerator." The detective succumbed to the girl's coercion.

"It seems that you have lived in 221B for a long time. I think Mrs. Hudson must have worked hard to take care of you for so long." Christa temporarily put the jam bottle back in the refrigerator, and she was extremely disgusted with the detective's behavior.

Christa packed up and sat down, "Speaking of which, this is the first time I've celebrated Christmas with someone so grandly?"

"What holiday does China celebrate?" Sherlock looked at her face, but couldn't see anything.

Christa was a little surprised that he asked this question suddenly, but she still replied indifferently: "New Year. We celebrate New Year. There are people from our country on Baker Street, haven't you noticed? We will set off fireworks and have New Year's Eve dinner together .Very lively."

"These are not worthy of my concern." The detective paused almost imperceptibly.

Who would have thought that a distant oriental country across the ocean would suddenly have an unbelievable overlap with his life trajectory one day.

The future, that is something that cannot be deduced even by the most delicate deductive methods.More people like to call it fate.

Christa was holding a steamy glass, her expression blurred by the mist, "Speaking of which, Christmas and New Year are not far away. I will go home soon and get rid of the torment of British food!"

"You will come again next spring."

... She heard that she had been stabbed in the heart.

"You still have four years of university in England."

...the second cut.

She took a big sip of water angrily, "Anyway, I'll be home soon."

"The teacher is coming back soon." She continued, "I heard that he has a new American lady, Connie. They have become very good friends. This lady has a junior and is a real genius. No I know how you two geniuses compare? I'm still looking forward to meeting you." She rested her chin on one hand and looked at her with hints in her eyes.

"Boring mind." The detective dismissed it.

***

The new snow has taken over all the eaves and grounds, and London looks like nothing but whiteness.

The only bit of bright color in the white snow thus stands out.The woman in a warm yellow coat smiled and nodded at the man who was still meticulously wearing a suit even on Christmas, "Goodbye, Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft returned the same courtesy: "Miss Catherine, thank you for your generosity."

"Getting along with your mother has benefited me a lot." Catherine's lips were slightly curved, and her tone was sincere, "She is a very good lady."

"You are also a very fine lady. There are not many people who really love philanthropy these days."

Catherine couldn't help but shook her head immediately, but she didn't use words to express affirmation or denial, but changed the subject: "Speaking of which, my father admires you very much. Mr. Holmes, you are a very suitable marriage partner."

"I thought you would agree with Miss Sifle's point of view, after all, you are best friends."

She lowered her eyelashes slightly, "Marriage is nothing more than two people who don't know much about each other using legal means to bind each other to seek common interests. Marriage has been like this since ancient times. A marriage that is only maintained by love is not strong. But I don't care about these anymore, I will dedicate my life to everything I care about, no matter my belief or my career. This is the fate I chose with my own hands. Marriage is an exchange of interests for some people, love for Aurora, and love for me , but an insignificant hindrance."

"But thank you very much, for saving me a lot of trouble on my father's side."

Mycroft Holmes, for most politicians, this is a very attractive figure, and these politicians naturally don't hesitate to associate with this promising gentleman with their own juniors.

"You're welcome. Is Miss Catherine planning to never marry and to devote her life to God?"

Catherine believes in Catholicism, which is why McCoff asked this question.

Catherine shook her head lightly, "As you know, although I believe in religion, I don't believe in gods or gods. God is not worth dedicating my life to. My driver is here. I'm sorry that I have to leave."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Holmes,"

"Merry Christmas," Mycroft replied with a smile.

Catherine got into the car, and once again a light snow drifted outside the window, overwhelming the world, and she looked away.

London hadn't been peaceful lately, and it wasn't hard to feel that in her position.

The presence of Mycroft Holmes delays the arrival of spring.

It's been another long winter.

When Santa Claus left with Christmas lights, winter passed by quietly, and early spring ushered in, Krista had already packed her luggage, booked her flight ticket, and was about to return to China for the New Year.

"Are you leaving?" Sherlock buried his face under the newspaper, his voice was normal, but his voice was slightly higher, and it came from the gap half the width of the unclosed door on the second floor.

Christa dragged her suitcase without looking back, "I'm going home, see you next spring, Sherlock."

"See you next year." The detective replied feebly, tearing the newspaper off his face.

After Krista left, Sherlock immediately returned to his usual energetic appearance, jumped up, and went straight to Krista's room on the third floor.

The author has something to say: I can't remember where the last episode should be, so I'm going to let myself go...

(scrawl JPG)

Finally... I started school, so it depends on the situation.