Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock and Elena decide to travel the world.

Although the decision was made long ago, it was still very sudden for the people around them.

After finishing their work, they packed up their packages and planned to embark on this interesting journey.

of course, obviously

They don't intend to take anyone but each other.

Send the child to school, arrange her life for the past two years, instruct good friends and subordinates about the work arrangements for the two years, and fix the time for sending letters home every week.

This couple, who have been married for more than ten years, embarked on the journey without a servant.

Very unexpected and unconventional, but it is indeed their style.

The pre-planned itinerary was to start from London, head east, reach France, go to Switzerland, then go to Rome, make a stop to Greece, and maybe go to Munich or Heidelberg on the return.

This was the route that the earl took back then. He and his ancestors traveled the continent of Europe when they were young, and they also took this route. Along the way, there were quite familiar family and human contacts, and some of them even have not broken contact till now.

Elena and Sherlock discussed it, and decided to go to sea after arriving in Munich and go to a more distant place.

They wanted to see India, to go around the sea, to see what Asia was like at that time, and maybe to go to the Americas, and finally to go around and go back to the origin.

That does sound like it's going to be an interesting and thrilling ride.

Elena and Sherlock went out together, they packed the suitcases, then Elena carried a bag, and Sherlock carried the suitcase, and the two got into the carriage like this, and drove to Dover in London.

Dover is close to the Channel of England, but it is far from the city center. It took more than two hours in a carriage to arrive.

Ships here are quite frequent, because France is on the other side of it, and this is one of the closest ports to France.

Looking at the busy port, Elena looked at Sherlock.

"Actually, I'm a little nervous," she said, smoothing her wrinkled clothes. "It feels like this is where the journey begins."

Sherlock nodded.

"It's all right," he joked, "it wasn't too stressful to turn down your multi-thousand-pound design project, hah, a mere trip!"

Elena shrugged, "You didn't just turn down tens of thousands of commissions."

She was referring to the fact that a dignitary wanted to spend a lot of money to entrust Sherlock to investigate the privacy of the royal family, but he rejected it.

Sherlock laughed.

"But I'm not nervous." He embraced his wife with a relaxed tone, "Let's go to the boat."

Their tickets were bought a few days ago.

Sherlock found the ship they were on almost without difficulty, and they loaded their luggage on board, and walked about to get acquainted with the surroundings.

Elena held Sherlock's hand, followed him to greet the gentlemen and ladies who came and went, and went around the various entertainment facilities on the ship.

Most of the people here are well-dressed, with elegant conversation and polite manners. When designing ships, there are restaurants, casinos, coffee shops, bars and other places for leisure and recreation.

"Want to see something else?" Sherlock asked her.

Elena nodded.

Then Sherlock took her back to the room and changed into some old clothes, put on simple makeup, and the two went to the lower class cabin.

It was lively there—all kinds of people came and went, shoulder to shoulder, some with children, some alone, mixed with thieves and all kinds of messy people.

When Elena and Sherlock walked down arm in arm, they were stopped by someone.

The person in charge of maintaining order on the ship looked Sherlock up and down, "Your wife is very beautiful, is it a honeymoon trip?"

He glanced at Elena, reached out and patted Sherlock's shoulder, "You're lucky, I wish you happiness."

Sherlock laughed.

"Thank you," he said, "This... it should be considered, after all, we have been in the honeymoon period almost all the time for more than ten years."

Sherlock inquired about something calmly, and Elena noticed that the person under the steps was carrying an easel and was holding a folded small bench.

After Sherlock finished chatting, Elena said hesitantly, "You said their bench, can you rent it?"

When packing their luggage, the two decided not to bring too many things.

Therefore, all Elena brought out were simple pens, bound books, solid watercolor paints, and a few sets of clothes.

Sherlock winked at her.

"Wait here a moment," he said, "I'll ask."

Elena just watched Sherlock walk in front of the painter, and then said something, the painter looked at Elena again, and the two laughed together.

Finally, Sherlock managed to get the folded stool.

"He said it was his wedding present to us, but I stuffed a gold coin in his pocket," Sherlock said, and walked up the bench with ease, "By the way, I also know that there will be a dance here tonight." .Do you want to come and play here?"

Elena nodded.

"Dances here are supposed to be fun, too," she said.

When they got to the deck, Elena first took the bench from Sherlock's hand.

She pushed Sherlock, who was a little confused, to the side near the railing, and then chose a good angle, letting him hold on to the railing, while she sat on the bench.

"I'll give you a sketch," Elena said, "but I'm not very skilled, and I don't know much about it, so it might not look very good."

She laughed as she spoke, "But it's impossible to be so ugly."

Listening to her words, Sherlock also looked at her gently, showing a smile.

"Draw it, then," said he, "I'll like it any way."

Elena then calmed down, raised her pen a little bit, calculated the approximate perspective angle, and began to draw slowly.

It happened to be dusk at this time, and there were layers of clouds in the distance. The rays of light shone on the sea, and there were clouds on the sea.

The sea in the sky turned orange-red waves, while the sea on the ground picked up sections of waves and crashed into the steep white cliffs, with bursts of sound and majestic momentum.

Sherlock stood by the railing, his messy hair fluttering in the wind, looking at the mottled and ancient castle on the cliff, he seemed to be thinking about something, a little lost in thought.

Elena kept writing in her hand, but she moved her mouth from time to time to instruct Sherlock to put on a proper posture following what she said.

Sherlock was also quite obedient, and with the joint efforts of the two, a sketch was soon completed.

Elena threw the notebook in her hand to Sherlock, and moved her wrist a few times.

"How is it?" she asked, "It shouldn't be particularly bad, right?"

"Very well," said Sherlock.

He looked carefully at the man in the painting, and almost felt that the man in the painting was also staring at him.

The person in the painting also has deep and depressed eyebrows, sharp eyes, and a firm face. Behind him is the majestic sky, and in the distance are steep cliffs.

He put away the painting, walked to his wife, held her wrist, and gently rubbed it.

Elena rubbed his cheek as usual, put away the stool, and stood beside the railing with him.

The gentle sea breeze was blowing and the ship was about to dock. They looked at the busy Calais port and held each other's hands tightly.

After arriving in Paris, Elena and Sherlock went around on the first day, and she left Sherlock and followed Christine to visit.

As for Sherlock, he was busy getting acquainted with this completely different environment under the guidance of his guide, a young man well-known in the French detective circle, and dropped by to take a look at the case that the young man was worrying about recently.

As well-educated people, neither Elena nor Sherlock had to worry about language barriers.

When she was a child, the earl hired someone to teach her French, and Sherlock also learned French, and he learned it well.

In this way, the two of them spent less time together.

But we can still have dinner together in the evening.

Elena and Sherlock lived in a hotel that the earl had booked for her half a year in advance, so they didn't worry about hygiene.

After a tiring day, they take a shower, lie on the sofa in refreshing pajamas, light a lamp on the small table, and read a book or newspaper while you and I are at the same time.

The atmosphere is quite warm, but it won't be long before Sherlock finds a pair of feet on his legs.

The owner of those feet was obviously Elena.

He couldn't help laughing, reached out and grabbed her ankle, and gently twirled her calf with his fingertips.

"Who lost this foot?" He said deliberately, "Let me find the owner..."

Elena grabbed his hand and put it on her lap, and poked the sole of his foot with the tip of her toe.

After making him laugh, he moaned and said, "The owner is here, what reward do you want?"

Sherlock blinked.

"One kiss is not enough," he smiled and kissed her.

Elena pretended to be angry.

"The lion opened his mouth, it's too much," she said, "You should carry forward the goodness of picking up money and giving it back for free..."

Most of the rest of the words were swallowed by Sherlock's kiss.

When Sherlock finished his consulting work, he joined Elena's journey again.

It happened to be sunny at that time, and it was still early. The sun shone through the broad leaves and cast fine shadows, which hit the glass windows of the carriage with a little golden light.

They went near the Palace of Versailles, Notre Dame Cathedral, the local opera house, as well as the Eiffel Tower, City Hall…

Medieval Gothic, Renaissance, Louis XIV... Elena distinguishes the era, background, age, and material of these buildings, and marvels at the magnificent and still preserved ancient buildings.

And when it was almost midnight, near Montparnasse, a place that was not very prosperous at present, Elena dragged Sherlock to stroll around the street slowly.

There are vendors pushing carts everywhere on the roadside, and poor painters scattered everywhere.

The lights here are dim, pubs and cafes are everywhere, and ragged artists are scattered on the street, occupying most of them. They squint their eyes, as if they are enjoying the dizziness brought by this glass of wine. Download a few of his paintings in exchange for today's and tomorrow's bread.

Elena looked at a bustling tavern almost curiously.

Every table here is full of guests. When she went out, Elena deliberately picked out older clothes, but the clothes of the people inside were even more torn than this. They didn't seem to care about it. Exchanged enthusiastically.

The two looked at each other, they avoided the smelly ditch at the door, and held hands into the tavern with the French "Luo Tongde" hanging on it. Almost as soon as they stepped into the door, someone stood up.

"Hello, hello," he warmly extended his hand to Sherlock without feeling that he was overdoing it, "Modigliani, a painter and a Jew."

Sherlock shook hands with him, and he handed Elena his hand.

"Are you a painter too?" Modigliani said, "I saw the nib sticking out of your satchel. That's a good fellow..."

Elena nodded.

"Yes," she said, "I'm an architect, actually."

Her words made Modigliani smile.

"It's all the same, architects, sculptors, painters, writers..." he said, "desire for art!"

His words quickly got everyone's response.

Several people made room for the couple who had just arrived here, and they discussed other topics intensely.

Artists, painters, and writers, the so-called "art workers" from all over the world gathered here, which almost made Eileen dizzy.

She also heard some rather familiar names in the communication of these people.

Matisse, Chagall, Apollinaire...

These people who will make a big splash in the history of Western art in the future, at this moment, right in front of her, are discussing fiercely about "Cubism" and "Fauvism", as if they want to compete for superiority, and they are blushing their necks thick.

There are also some gentle, slutty and charming girls on the side. Most of them are wandering warblers, courtesans and mistresses around, with loose hair and thick or colorful makeup, looking for some chance encounters.

A few plainclothes police officers barged in at the door, seeming to check whether the documents were legal. Most of the painters were already drunk, and the rest were half-awake and half-drunk, still babbling.

Elena was not in a hurry, she looked back at the people beside her, only to find that Sherlock was staring at her with gentle and peaceful eyes.

Elena smiled at him too.

She leaned on Sherlock, and the two strangers sat among a bunch of strangers, chatting with them from time to time. Although the overly peaceful expression was not suitable for this place, it was still harmonious.

The two occupied the entire table, and after a while, someone came to ask if they could share the table.

The visitor was dressed in shabby clothes, holding a short-haired woman in his arms.

Elena took a look at this woman. She was wearing a tattered men's top hat, and a pair of rotten shoes on her feet. She drew a pair of eyebrows casually and randomly, but she couldn't hide her lively and agile eyes.

I found that there was an upright Miss England sitting here. The short-haired girl couldn't hide the smile on her brows and eyes, and gave her a wink.

"Hey, Sudin, you're here!" Modigliani said. "These two, Miss Molson and Mr. Holmes, are from England. Oh, let me tell you, why are you still bringing Kiki..."

Before he finished speaking, he lay on the table, snoring, and fell asleep casually.

The people around him didn't seem surprised, they just made fun of him for a while, "It is estimated that there will be a few more paintings left to pay the bill".

But the girl didn't pay any attention to what he said.

"Qiqi," the girl introduced herself, "the most famous here—"

She paused deliberately.

"Model Kiki!" the still sober chanted along with the drunk.

Qiqi seems to be quite famous here, and they are obviously familiar with Qiqi, talking and laughing with her unscrupulously, and Qiqi echoes the same, standing there, she seems to be the queen who controls her own destiny.

Elena chatted with the people around for a while, and found that it was almost dawn.

A night without sleep didn't seem to affect her excitement at all, she paid the money first, and left a sketch of the tavern interior for the boss.

Looking here again with nostalgia, Elena stood up.

"Come along, Sherlock," she said.

Sherlock said hello, and thoughtfully took the coat and put it on for her.

The two supported each other, cuddled together, and walked towards the silent street, with noisy voices coming from behind them.

In this way, they went to the Alps, Rome, Naples, and then sailed to Greece.

Elena just wrote and drew along the way. She couldn’t remember how many letters she sent home. Send it back with the letter.

When she wrote the letter, Sherlock watched her by the side, or wrote with her, each of them wrote a letter.

Under the dim light and the flickering candles, there is quite a warm feeling.

The journey is not just so smooth.

Elena and Sherlock had encountered muggers, crooks, and kids trying to steal their luggage—all of which Sherlock had no doubt spotted and dealt with.

Similarly, when they arrived at a place, they had to visit the local high-class people, and Elena and Sherlock also wasted a lot of time on this.

But always worth it.

When these people didn't know much about this place, they recommended tour guides for them. Some of them were young and lively youths, and some were older people.

Most of the recommended tour guides were nephews of their own family, and few of them gave them a servant, and most of them warmly invited Elena and Sherlock to live in their homes.

Elena and Sherlock traveled to every corner of these cities with these guides who were familiar with the local places.

Elena took her small notebook to write and draw around, recording the long gone history and the remaining architectural details, while Sherlock used his eyes and brain to see and think.

"If you admire the decoration, you must come to Rome," said the local guide, grinning and showing his white teeth. "The Roman architecture here is the best in the world! Diamonds, gold, and flower wrappings pillars—I don’t know much about them, but I think they are really beautiful.”

Elena smiled and changed the subject.

But before she could say anything else to the tour guide, another man started a discussion with his friend on the sidelines.

"'No paint, no mosaics, it must be very expensive', that's all they can see," said the tall and thin young man sarcastically, "That's all, except for these golden things, money, and things like showing off wealth." reliefs, and nothing else."

Elena froze for a moment.

She walked around the hall again before stepping forward and asking, "Then what do you think you should see?"

Elena's probing eyes seemed to annoy the young person who spoke, and it was quite impolite for her to intervene hastily.

He looked up and down, and found that the lady who asked the question was well dressed, simple and elegant, so he suppressed his displeasure, and said, "Practicality should be more important than decoration. No matter what, it is best to go to a place. What you check is whether there is enough light and whether the floor and walls are clean, not how many utensils are placed in the room, whether there is a carpet on the floor, and whether there are picture frames on the wall. That is putting the cart before the horse!"

Elena exhaled lightly.

She understood who the young man in front of her was, and it was a coincidence that he was traveling at the time she chose.

"Elena Molson," she handed a business card to the young man in front of her, "an architect."

The young man was also taken aback for a moment, and took the business card.

"Charles Édouard Jeanneret," he replied with some joy, "so you are Miss Molson... I should have expected it. I was near London at the time, and all my friends said that you I left my hometown, and I regret that I couldn't come to visit—”

Elena laughed, just as Sherlock came around, she pulled her husband and introduced him to Jeanne Ray.

"My husband," she said, "Sherlock Holmes, we have planned this trip together."

The two shook hands, and Na Lei and Elena chatted about their views on architecture.

He is high-spirited, young and very reckless, but even though the difference is almost ten years old, the two of them chatted very smoothly.

The knowledge Elena acquired was originally summarized and refined by later generations on the basis of this future "master of modernist architecture". not enough.

After waving goodbye to the young man, Sherlock was somewhat surprised by Elena's unusual attitude.

He turned his head and looked at Elena, "He is..."

"Most of the textbooks I study contain his words," Elena said.

As she walked, she couldn't help jumping up and hugging Sherlock.

"I'm glad," she said, embracing her husband again, "I'm really glad—I love his work, and now it seems like I might be able to see how it goes from draft to draft." set up step by step."

She couldn't help making gestures while talking, "That's probably like the reaction of those who will learn to solve crimes in later generations when they see you."

Sherlock patted her reassuringly.

He looked at the sparkle in her eyes like falling stars, and couldn't help but smiled and said, "That's a pity. You don't like detectives very much, and I'm not an architect. I'm afraid I won't win your favor by doing this." gone."

"According to what you said, that's not enough. Not only do you need to learn architecture, but you also need to learn how to transform yourself into several people." Elena pressed his face lightly, and said, "I don't just like this one Architects—you just have to be yourself."

She said briskly, "After all, for me, the only one I love will always be Sherlock."

Sherlock took her hand and put it to his lips and kissed it.

Compared with Europe, which is relatively prosperous, the situation in Asia is much worse.

Because the "Empire on which the sun never sets" shines all over the world, many people came to ask him for commissions when they heard about Sherlock from relatives and friends, and they hardly had any time to relax along the way.

And Elena also had a hard time thinking about other things.

She has been sorting out and rescuing local and architectural-related cultural relics and ancient books almost all the way. After meeting a French banker named Albert Kahn in India by chance, she asked him to shoot a group of existing Indian ancient buildings. photo.

Elena passed some Indian neighborhoods, and their children, women in sari, and men who seemed to be doing nothing would point at her, as if she offended someone by her attire.

Some of them were just joking, while others seemed to want to come up and try their hand, but as soon as they found the flag of the Governor's Mansion on the car, they scattered in a crowd, terrified.

The local governor had an old friend with her family, and Sherlock had dealt with his subordinates several times. Before leaving, Elena declined the governor's kindness to keep her, and smiled and agreed to his desire to entrust Elena In Britain, he built a house in his hometown in the countryside to show his extraordinary work, and took a boat to Shanghai at that time.

After boarding the ship, Elena looked at the people on the same ship as herself, and her mood changed almost visibly with the naked eye.

She didn't hate her former compatriots, but she hated her powerlessness.

What can she do?

Waking up in the middle of the night, Elena hugged the quilt and looked sideways at the window.

She was terrified, and it was a... impotent fear.

She knew there was nothing she could do, but she still wanted to do something.

Sherlock beside her sat up and looked at her.

"What's the matter?" he asked, "I remember you said this time to go back to the place where you grew up..."

"You know, the situation there is very bad now," Elena said, "I'm very worried, but we are neither envoys abroad, nor do we have direct force, let alone... I am very sad."

She sighed, "I wanted to rescue some ancient books and bring them back to London with you, but I was worried about the land that once nurtured me."

Sherlock pulled her into his arms, patted her on the back and coaxed her.

Slowly, Elena calmed down.

"What do you want to do?" asked Sherlock.

"I haven't thought about it yet," Elena said, "I'm actually not particularly willing to come here...I always feel that I can avoid these things by avoiding them, but I know this is wrong. Maybe, I can give those who are still thinking about The builders provide some shelter, some money, maybe some students."

As she talked, she laughed again, "Let's talk about it when the time comes, there will be a solution."

But on the devastated land, Elena hardly smiled anymore.

She and Sherlock walked about the land she had thought she knew, showing him where she had been to school, where she had been with the teacher, where she had lived, where it would be. What buildings are there, and which bus to take to get there.

She also found the old sites of several century-old shops, bought a pastry, took a bite for herself, and Sherlock took a bite, and the two slowly shared the food.

The familiar smell made Elena almost cry.

Seeing the shopkeeper in the store flustered, he looked at her and Sherlock cautiously, one mouthful of "adults", seeing her crying, he seemed to think that he had done something wrong, apologized in fear, and bowed again, extremely humble .

Elena explained a few words, bought some long-term storage, and planned to send them home, so she dragged Sherlock away in a hurry.

They didn't stay here long before war broke out.

Elena discussed with Sherlock, and decided to rush back to China as soon as possible for safety reasons.

When Elena said these things, she held Sherlock's hand tightly.

"Even though I know the future is going well here, I still feel sad," she said.

Sherlock ruffled her hair.

"It's all right," he said, "you've done everything you can."

What he said was that Eileen spent money to buy those architectural manuscripts, blueprints, related cultural relics and books that were left outside, and secretly funded some people.

"I haven't given it my all," Elena said, "and I'm feeling bad about it."

She said, "Thirty years later, I don't know if I will still be in this world. If I am, I can just donate to them. If I am not, then-"

She was about to say "You donate it for me", but Sherlock interrupted.

"Starr will do these things, she has always been an obedient child," he said with a smile, and lightened the heavy subject. "She said that she has recently taken a liking to the law and wanted to be a lawyer. Mycroft Te said that it would be better to try to be a female political adviser, but she refused."

Elena blinked.

"I thought she would be lazy if I handed her over to my father," she said. "After all, before leaving, my father still had the attitude of 'I don't want to do anything, just eat, drink, sleep'."

They boarded the boat back home and returned home almost in a short time.

…Then a pile of work rushed towards them, almost leaving Elena with no time to care about her previous worries.

She devoted most of her time to these tasks again, and in the evening, Sherlock also finished his work, and he came to take her home.

Elena held his arm, and the two walked slowly towards Baker Street. Under the dim streetlight, the shadows of the two cuddling each other gradually lengthened, and the two whispered about today's trivial daily life, just like a dozen or so Years ago when they were in love.

The new employee is not very familiar with this place yet, looking at the figure gradually going away by the window.

"Miss Molson and her husband are very fond of each other," he said enviously.

"Yeah," another senior employee answered, "Even though they obviously have no common hobbies, when they stand together, everyone thinks that apart from each other, no one else can fit them so well and love each other so much. .”

The author has something to say: There is another chapter about parenting, I am writing and writing to speed up.jpg

The timeline of this chapter is at the beginning of the [-]th century

Exact words from Le Corbusier's letter.His original name was Charles Édouard Jeanneret, born in Switzerland, he is the son of a watchmaker, a famous architect, and a representative of modern architecture. The choice has a great influence. Albert Kahn, a French banker, likes to travel and take pictures, and left a lot of photos of various regions (including humanities and architecture. Remarks:

1Model Kiki (KIKI), a professional mannequin (naked model), has appeared in the paintings of painters in Montparnasse, many of which are famous paintings. The influence of the art center is no less than the influence of Queen Victoria on Britain."

3 Montparnasse, France was the center of world art at that time, where a large number of artists who would be very famous in the future gathered. Matisse and others mentioned in this chapter haunted that bar at that time (waiting there for an hour at midnight , Maybe you can meet Hemingway and others XD