This Chinese restaurant on Baker Street would be open until two o'clock in the morning. From Christmas Shylock mentioning this restaurant until now,
This was their first time patronizing it.
New Year had just passed, and there were still red lanterns and spring couplets hanging at the entrance of the restaurant. It looked very festive and lively.
The restaurant was not big,
The decoration was in the nostalgic style of northern China, with antique mahogany tables and chairs, and exquisite silk lanterns,
There was also a Chinese folding screen,
The calligraphy and paintings were flowing like clouds and flowing like water,
There were also two bright national flags on the bar counter.
All these familiar and strange elements made Anne momentarily dazed.
Shylock pulled her in,
They randomly picked a table and sat down.
The waitress in the restaurant was a young Chinese girl,
When she saw that it was two British guests who came in, she asked them in fluent English what they wanted to eat.
Anne didn't want to appear too sensitive and silent. But it was undeniable that she did avoid these things. It had been a few months since she came to the 21st century,
This was even her first time eating Chinese food. And China City, located in Westminster, London, she had never been there before. She didn't even dare to approach it.
The only progress..,
Was probably on Christmas Eve, when she nestled beside Shylock and recalled the scene of the Spring Festival at home.
Yes..,
She was just a cowardly little turtle curled up in her shell.
Only Shylock, who saw through everything, could pull her out.
Anne held the menu in her hand,
In silence, she heard the man sitting opposite her suddenly say two words.
"Dumplings."
Chinese..,
It was even quite standard.
Anne looked over in surprise.
When did he learn Chinese?
Sensing her gaze..,
Shylock raised his eyebrows calmly,
Then, he continued to report the names of the dishes and ordered the dishes one by one from the waiter.
"Braised carp."
"Sweet and sour pork ribs."
"Mustard dun."
..
Haha! Anne laughed out loud. He actually knew how to turn his voice into sound! Paired with that well-defined western face, he was really too cute!
Shylock tilted his head slightly and looked at her expressionlessly.
Anne quickly corrected her attitude and restrained the smile on her face, but her heart was sweet and soft, warm and comfortable.
Shylock was about to continue when Anne hurriedly stopped him. She didn't want Mr. Holmes to turn into a "tycoon" from time to time and order all the New Year's Eve dinner that she recalled on Christmas Day.
Anne knew that Shylock must have heard something from her piano, so he specially brought her to eat Chinese food.
But in fact, as long as he was with her, no matter how bad her mood was, she would slowly get better.
The two of them ate for nearly an hour. Anne would occasionally comment on the taste or recall the craftsmanship of her mother and grandmother in the past. Time passed quietly.
After the meal, the waiter gave them a fortune cookie.
It was Anne's first time seeing this kind of fortune cookie. It was small and cute, and it was hollow inside. There was a small piece of paper with some China's wisdom written on it.
Many Chinese restaurants in Europe and the United States would give out this kind of "lucky cookie"
Many Westerners thought that this was a specialty of China, but in fact, there were no such fortune cookies in China restaurants.
Anne carefully chose one and gently opened it. She took out the small piece of paper with Chinese and English printed on it.
It was a very short sentence:
"Perhaps you are about to welcome a separation, but remember, sometimes parting is for a better reunion."
Anne's heart sank.
About to welcome a separation …
Hadn't she faced enough separations? Who else could she —
Annie jerked her head up to look at the man sitting across from her.
Shylock happened to be looking at her too.
His fair and cold face, his eyes so bright that they were almost transparent, his thin body wrapped in a suit, and the faint light from the silk lantern above his head shone down. Every fine line on his body was incomparably familiar to her, just like …
Just like an oil painting that she had once drawn.
He still didn't know that she could draw — another essential skill that she had as a 19th-century noble lady.
She suddenly wanted to draw a portrait of him. She wanted to draw every detail of his body, stroke by stroke, on the canvas, blurring it into a kind of eternity that no one could take away.
Anne was only stunned for a second, then she smiled, crumpled the note into a small ball, put it in her pocket, and whispered, "Okay, let's go."
Shylock didn't ask what her fortune cookie was. He once told Watson that he could always guess what was written on the fortune cookies in Chinese restaurants. Anne didn't know if he had guessed it this time …
.
"Anne, look, Mr. Holmes is on the news again." Billy spread out a newspaper in front of Anne, "This time it mentioned you."
Anne smiled and replied, "Yes, I know. I've already seen it."
Anne paid attention to the news about Shylock as soon as possible.
Starting from Watson's blog, Shylock received more and more attention, and his exposure on the Internet, newspapers, and other media increased. And three months ago, "Reichenbach's Hero" pushed his popularity to the peak.
Probably no one knew better than Anne what this meant.
Compared to a hero, what people wanted to see more was the fall of a hero.
Anne's phone suddenly rang. She handed the bill to the last table of guests and picked up the phone.
It was Mrs. Hudson calling to complain.
Shylock was going crazy in his apartment at 221B Baker Street. Because there was no case, Mr. Holmes, who was tormented by boredom to the point of insanity, began to indiscriminately attack every living thing in sight. Watson and Mrs. Hudson weren't spared.
The poor landlady was crying bitterly over the phone because she had just learned, without warning, that Mr. Chatterjee, who owned the sandwich shop downstairs, already had a wife in Doncaster. And this old b * stard had shamelessly flirted with her and promised to take her out to sea …
There was no doubt that the person who had leaked this information was a detective who was on the verge of going berserk.
Anne patiently comforted Mrs. Hudson and then looked at the time. There were still twenty minutes before work ended, and the last table of guests had left. Anne asked for leave from Angelo and left early to avoid any more vicious incidents in 221B.
But when Anne returned to Baker Street, Shylock was already sitting on his sofa in a suit. He looked very elegant because he had finally found an interesting client with a case that wasn't so boring.
Usually, when Shylock was bored, his addiction to smoking would kick in. This time was no exception.
Mr. Holmes, who was in the midst of quitting smoking, had reached the limit of his tolerance. Fortunately, the client opposite him was an old smoker.
Shylock looked at the time. Very good, there was still time. Even if he couldn't smoke, second-hand smoke to relieve his addiction was better than nothing for Mr. Holmes now.
Like a refugee who had been hungry for days and anxiously waiting for food relief, the client finally lit a cigarette. Before Shylock could take a deep breath to enjoy the familiar smell, he heard the sound of the door opening downstairs.
It was gentle and unhurried. This sound could only be …
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson!" Shylock cursed in a low voice in annoyance.
Then, he looked at the client with a gloomy expression and said mercilessly, "Put out the cigarette."
"…" The client was dumbfounded. "But, Mr. Holmes …"
Didn't he eagerly ask him to "smoke one" just now?
Shylock repeated impatiently, "Put out the cigarette!"
After that, he jumped up from the sofa and waved his arms hurriedly to disperse the smoke around him. He then ran to the window and opened it.
Dr. Watson, who knew the reason, lowered his head and laughed.
Sure enough, Anne came up the stairs after a while.
Although the smell of cigarettes in the living room had mostly dissipated, Anne still suppressed her throat and coughed twice when she walked in.
Shylock frowned.
This was another reason why Mr. Holmes was determined to quit smoking — Anne's asthma.
She was supposed to get off work in twenty minutes, but it seemed that their landlady had called to complain again.
Seeing the stranger in the living room and the scene in front of her, Anne knew that they had a new case.
She looked at Shylock, who was in a suit and looked cold.
Well, very good, the crisis was resolved.
Watson, who was interrupted, asked, "So, Shylock, are we taking this case?"
"Of course." The detective turned around gracefully, without any of his previous grumpiness. He looked at Anne with shining eyes. "You can ask Angelo for leave now. We'll leave for Dartmoor tomorrow."
Anne was stunned. Did she agree to go with him? Besides, she had never been involved in any of his previous cases.
Seeing her expression, Shylock took out his phone from his pocket. "I don't mind calling Angelo for you."
Seeing that he had already started to dial the number, Anne hurriedly stopped him.
"No, Shylock. I can't go with you. "
It was an answer that was completely out of his expectations.
"Why?" Shylock looked up at her with dissatisfaction.
"Obviously, I have to go to work. That's the first point, "Anne explained patiently.
"Oh, very good. It seems that you have a second point." Mr. Holmes's voice fully expressed his displeasure.
Anne smiled. "Yes. Secondly, I can't help much even if I go with you. "
Sherlock didn't say anything. He just pursed his lips and looked at her pitifully. Even his beautiful gray-green eyes had lost their usual sharpness, becoming as bright and moist as a kitten's. It was hard to reject him.
He was becoming more and more adept at using this cute expression. Anne seriously suspected that he must have learned it from the Scottish Fold raised by Mrs. Turner next door.
Annie hardened her heart and shook her head, unmoved. "No. "No. Stop looking at me like that. You can't always use this trick."
The expression on Shylock's face disappeared instantly, and he returned to his usual expressionless face.
After thinking for a second, the detective announced very quickly, "Well, I thought about it seriously. Obviously, I can't leave London either."
Annie and John looked at him in silence, and looked at him …
Shylock raised his chin proudly and looked back at them coldly. "If you want to know, I happen to have two reasons too. What a happy coincidence. First, I'm very busy. Poor little Kirsty lost her beloved rabbit, and this rabbit called Lily of the Valley shines at night like a little fairy. Look, this is such an important case! "
Because of his anger, Mr. Holmes spoke twice as fast as usual.
The client, who had been listening for a long time, asked weakly, "Then … are you not going to Dartmoor, Mr. Holmes?"
Shylock turned his head and glanced at him sharply. "Is this the question you want to ask now?"
The client, who was confused, was speechless.
What else?
Anne held back her laughter and asked the question she was supposed to ask, "What's the second reason?"
Shylock turned his head to look at her, and his expression softened.
Humph! Finally, there was someone who could follow his train of thought.
However, Anne did not follow his train of thought. She just knew him too well.
"The second reason, of course …" He paused for a moment. "NATO is in a mess!" Mr. Holmes said matter-of-factly.
NATO …
Well, that was a good reason.
"Okay, Shylock." Anne walked over and smoothed his hair skillfully. "I know you don't want to miss this case. Besides, you're Sherlock Holmes, the best detective in the world. I believe you can come back from Dartmoor in two days at most. I'll wait for you here. "
Mr. Holmes still minded. Two days, 48 hours, 2,880 minutes … Don't you think it's too long?
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