[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

221B Baker Street.

Ludwig stood in her Baker Street room, facing the bed, for a full minute.

There is a white wedding dress on the bed. There are no complicated styles, no big skirts, and no shiny blingbling sequins and gems.

It's just that there is a splash-ink butterfly embroidered on the skirt. It spread its wings and swayed with the luster of the satin, as if it was about to fly.

The silk satin was embroidered with dark-colored flowers, and there was simply a dark-colored ribbon tied obliquely around the waist with a large six-petal flower—this was the most complicated part of the whole skirt.

But it seems that in a vast snow field, I suddenly caught a glimpse of a slender orchid grass.

The white snow covered the sky and covered the sky, only the impression of the bright dark green was deeply burned into the eyes and could not be lingered.

……

An He has always known what style she likes.

Because his style is her style.

The silky gown slid down her body... all the way to her ankles.

Ludwig's right hand has not fully recovered, and he can only tie the belts that should have been tied behind his back one by one around his waist.

But she is naturally better at knotting... The belt tied at the waist is not only not weird, but very stylish.

She loosened her hair back, revealing the emerald earring.

This is An He, sending her off to get married in advance.

So what she looks like to him now is what she will look like at her wedding in the future... If she doesn't change it, it won't count as him marrying her off.

Of course, the premise is that she has the opportunity to get married.

Look at Sherlock's attitude now, Xuan.

……

Is there any bride who doesn't wear makeup?

Is there any bride whose jewelry is only one earring?

If not... let her be.

The wedding dress box contained matching shoes, with thin roots and satin straps, embroidered with the same pattern as the dress.

She put it on, the color of the nail polish on her toes was very punk, black and cool metallic... It didn't match the skirt, and she probably lost her mind when she changed this color two days ago.

But she didn't have time to change it, and opened the door of the room directly.

……

Sitting on the sofa, the slender man just raised his head and saw her coming out of the door.

She was stomping unaccustomedly, getting used to the shoes.

A dress as white as snow.

Long hair as black as ink.

Her slender arms were exposed, and a few strands of untied long hair fell on her delicate and thin shoulders.

There is also a half of a lonely ankle exposed under the long skirt.

……

She was still paying attention to her shoes, she hadn't seen him yet... Well, she finally looked up and saw him, but why wasn't her expression surprised, but like... greatly frightened?

Ludwig who was stunned to see Sherlock when he opened his eyes: "..."

scare?Of course it was frightening.

Who told her when these two men sat in the living room?

Lestrade sat across from Sherlock, studying a file in his hand, unaware of what happened in Baker Street.

"I've checked all the people near her residence, and there is no one who meets your requirements, but there is an old lady who is almost 70 years old. I can't find out her origin... Sherlock?"

Sherlock didn't answer him, he was staring behind him with a strangely focused gaze.

He waved his hand in front of Sherlock's eyes... He still ignored him.

Lestrade followed his gaze inexplicably:

"What are you looking at... oh god."

He looked at Ludwig, and then at Sherlock.

The tone is unbelievable:

"Are you getting married today?"

"..."

Sherlock looked at Ludwig inscrutablely:

"I didn't even know I was getting married today."

Lestrade still didn't respond:

"But you have no clothes... Oh, it doesn't matter, you wear the same clothes every day, and you can go straight to get married after taking off your coat."

He put away the file on the table:

"You didn't invite me when you got married, and I didn't hear any news... You don't have to come to solve the case when you get married today. Obviously, you and the case have already divorced."

……

Ludwig finally reacted:

"No, no, we're not getting married, it's just..."

Sherlock interrupted her calmly:

"We're not getting married, I didn't buy you a wedding dress, and you don't have money in your pocket for the fabric...obviously, it was bought for you by your ex-café lover...you're going Wear it for him to see?"

He said lightly, without any fluctuations in his tone:

"Why? Because he has no time to be with you in this life, so you have to make up for his shortcomings before the end of his life? Or..."

Ludwig looked at the clock.

... 5 minutes to seven.

She interrupts Sherlock:

"It's for him to see, but it's not what you think..."

Sherlock ignored her, and there was no emotion on his face.

Just go on and say:

"It's not to make up for his shortcoming... Then, can I understand that this is basically—your shortcoming?"

"..."

Ludwig looked up at the ceiling, feeling amused by Sherlock:

"My shortcoming? I think you are deliberately misinterpreting it, so it is difficult for me to explain it to you calmly."

Sherlock changed his posture and clasped his hands:

"No need to be calm, just explain."

……

Inspector Lestrade sat on the sofa and felt as if he had a soldering iron under his buttocks.

...Did he, by accident, see the live version of Sherlock being cheated on?

Whether or not this was the actual scene of the cheating, he felt...he would most likely be silenced by Mycroft.

……

Ludwig looked at the clock, feeling a little anxious - for some reason, she was always a little anxious today, her heart seemed to be floating in water, wobbly and unable to sink to the bottom.

... It's almost seven o'clock.

Her tone was a little cold, and she said as she walked towards the door:

"Actually, there is nothing to explain. My friends and relatives are all him. He gave me a skirt, just wishing me...it's not what you think it means at all."

"Not what I thought it meant?"

He repeated it lightly, staring closely into her eyes:

"What do you think I mean?"

"One of your heads is worth ten of mine. How do I know what you mean?"

Ludwig looked at the clock again.

She quickened her pace and walked to the coffee table without stopping or looking at him:

"Also, what do you mean by 'before his life ends'? He hasn't died yet, so he doesn't necessarily die...Sir, please pay attention to the wording."

……

Sherlock stared at her as she walked past him, holding the hem of the wedding dress with one hand, and the ribbon at the waist gently brushed the ground.

She was so pretty, like a real bride.

—and the real bride holds her skirts just to pass him by.

……

He said softly:

"It's not that simple... Have you ever noticed the way he looks at you?"

With a sullen face, Ludwig pulled out a tissue from the coffee table:

"You can say what you like... I believe him."

"I know you believe in him... You and I have emphasized more than once that you believe in him completely, without reservation... so that I am deeply impressed."

He repeated exactly what Ludwig said at the time:

"But I'm afraid you are the only one who thinks that he simply wants to bless you... rather than simulating a wedding."

"..."

Lestrade looked up at Sherlock, as if it was hard to believe that such mean and disrespectful words came from Sherlock's mouth.

...Although he is mean all the time, it is not this kind of meanness.

……

And Sherlock's meanness and faux pas aren't over yet.

He raised the corners of his lips slightly, smiled, and said in a low tone:

"...Do you need me to send you a wedding gift to increase the authenticity of your simulated wedding?"

"..."

Ludwig wanted to throw a tissue in his face.

But she decided to be polite, so she just straightened up without saying a word, and walked towards the door.

"You're not going to waste time explaining it to me, you're right."

Sherlock reopened the file:

"Because you're running out of time... No, you're already running out of time."

There was a cold arc on the corner of his lips, and he said casually:

"Did he tell you that the doctor's predicted time of death was seven o'clock this morning?"

……

Ludwig put his hand on the doorknob.

It seemed like she should have turned the doorknob instead of listening to Sherlock's nonsense.

She stood straight at the door.

For a couple of seconds, my mind was chaotic, as if a thousand people were arguing, or as if being run over by ten trains.

She stared at the cold silver handle in her hand, and smiled slowly:

"What are you talking about... What is death at seven o'clock this morning? Is your brain broken? It's seven o'clock now."

Sherlock watched her back.

The soft satin was close to her skin, bending down an arc, revealing the butterfly-like bones on her back.

……

Some words, it seems, really shouldn't be said like this... at least shouldn't be said so bluntly.

But driven by some emotion, he heard himself speak indifferently again:

"Then, the meaning of this sentence is equivalent to 'he is dead'."

He said indifferently:

"You look surprised that he didn't tell you? Then I believe he really didn't want to simulate a wedding with you."

……

thunder?Where is the thunder coming from?

No... that's not thunder, that's the second hand, ticking past death and birth.

……

Ludwig closed his eyes, as if he finally understood the meaning of Sherlock's words.

... It is already early summer, and the flowers are blooming.

Why, there are still trees dropping leaves?

……

Her palms were cold, and the vibrations from the depths of her body knocked on her eardrum.

But I can still clearly hear Sherlock's blade-like words:

"He took great pains to drive you away...but he underestimated your ability to bear it too much."

"..."

Ludwig opened the door and didn't look at the man behind him. Wearing stiletto shoes and a long satin skirt, he quickly ran down the stairs with two steps at a time.

Her movements have never been so crisp.

Sherlock wouldn't lie to her about it.

I'm afraid... I'm afraid...

She flew to the middle of the Baker Street road, and the skirt flew up behind her, like a white butterfly spreading its wings.

...I'm afraid it's too late.

She opens her hands.

With the screeching sound of brakes, a taxi narrowly stopped in front of her.

Ludwig opened the door and sat in:

"St. Mary's Hospital."

At least... please at least, wait for her another 10 minutes.

Baker Street.

After Ludwig left, Sherlock put down the file in his hand.

Lestrade patted him on the shoulder:

"I really want to comfort you now...but I really don't know what to comfort you with."

Sherlock took a sip of the cold coffee, seemingly unaware that it was cold.

He also didn't seem to realize that someone was talking in his ear.

Lestrade sighed:

"I can't comfort you, because I also think you're an asshole... You are an impeccable winner in terms of IQ, but emotionally, you are an out-and-out fool."

Sherlock took another sip of his coffee.

For the first time in his life, he was described as a "fool", but he didn't refute it with sharp words.

Facing such a "submissive" Sherlock, Lestrade was not used to it, but he continued:

"It's a miracle that Vichy can put up with you. If I treated Mary like this, she would pack her bags immediately and leave in an hour's time, never to see me again."

"So Mary will always be Mary, and she's never been there for you...the two can't be compared."

Sherlock finally spoke:

"Vichy wouldn't do that."

"...Who gave you such strong self-confidence?"

Lestrade laughed angrily at Sherlock:

"I sort of agree with Mycroft now... you're not at all suitable for talking about feelings, and you're not at all suitable for being in love with a woman."

He spread his hands to express his abandonment of persuasion, and walked towards the door.

Sherlock looked up:

"Oh, the case isn't settled yet... Is the Acting Inspector of Scotland Yard going off duty?"

"It doesn't count as skipping work."

Lestrade waved his hand:

"Mycroft is preparing for your bachelor party... I'm just going to help the leader, and it's official business."

"..."

Before Sherlock could speak, his phone vibrated suddenly.

He took out his cell phone.

Lestrade had already reached the door, and suddenly heard Sherlock calling him:

"Wait a minute, Lestrade."

Sherlock's tone had never been so cold and serious.

Lestrade turned back: "What's wrong?"

Sherlock threw the phone to him:

"Click to see."

Lestrade inexplicably turned on the "gamestart" displayed on the phone screen, and opened a video that was just sent over.

Then, his eyes gradually sank.

...that's not a shooting video, that's just a crude game interface, a bit like a simplified version of Super Mario, or a tank.

The pixels of the characters in the game are very low, the head is just a square, and the eyes are just two dots. It can only be vaguely seen that the person on the screen is a black-haired girl in a white dress.

The game is played automatically, only for a few seconds, and the background music is "Christmas Carol", which is very cheerful.

The girl walked along a small path, bouncing forward, and finally came to a building that marked the red cross of the hospital, and stopped.

The girl paused and walked in.

The hospital exploded in the next second.