My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

"Congratulations, you have sent Feynman to the gallows." After reading the newspaper, Sherlock impatiently threw the newspaper to Adlia, "Today's news, Feynman has been executed."

There were no outlandish reports in the papers, enough to turn off a detective.Fortunately, there is a walking mystery beside him, so life will not be too boring.

The case of Professor Parker is over, and Adlia knows that her life is a bit chaotic. Although she is still working and studying normally, she thinks that she has not shown anything wrong, but her occasional delays all fall to the detective In the eyes of roommates.

There is no case, and Sherlock, who is very leisurely, has time to study his friends again.

——Although maybe he didn't realize it himself, compared with the original simple curiosity, the research at this time is more concerned.

Adelia sorted out his messy newspapers, and it didn't take much effort to find the report. It was written very briefly. The throat of the caring person, death is not a pity.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Sherlock held the violin in his arms and fiddled with it.

"I'm not the prime minister, and I don't need to make an important statement on this matter," Adlia put the newspaper aside, she had already removed some disguise in front of Sherlock, "won't you play a piece, violinist?"

"I'm not a violinist," Sherlock said helplessly, but obediently put the violin on his shoulders, "What do you want to hear?"

"It's fine, anyway, I just need to contribute my ears." She looked very safe and comfortable.

It's just that Sherlock knew that his friend was always good at hiding his expression - although Adrian seemed quite comfortable in front of him, it was difficult for him to reveal half of it when he touched his true emotions.

Sherlock's hand holding the bow paused slightly, and the next moment the bow slid on the strings and produced beautiful notes - he was sitting, but he seemed to stand up suddenly with interest in playing.His steps are like a dance, but very slow, with small steps and small steps spinning lightly with the melody, focused and elegant, and after a few steps, he stops by the fireplace, and the melody also becomes cheerful.

Adelia didn't understand music, but she could tell it was dance music.Sitting on the sofa, she quietly watched his warm-colored face beside the flame, which more and more coincided with the silhouette in her memory.

She didn't look away until her friend's song was over.

"Sometimes music can really make people feel happy." She picked up the desk calendar beside the table - she hadn't flipped it for a long time.

"Minuets from the Baroque period," he said.

This word triggered Adelia's memory, and she recited in a low voice: "Some mental pains are endless and intricate. The more insignificant, the more profound and unforgettable; the more difficult to detect, the sharper and more intense; The stronger and more tenacious. They leave a sad mark on our hearts, a bitter taste, and a sense of brokenness that lingers forever."

This is the only literary quality she has left.

She couldn't help laughing after she finished reciting it.

Maupassant misses the past and writes about the dream-like era.

She didn't know if she was still missing the past, or if she simply wished her past was a dream, she couldn't tell.

"I don't see that you have some literary attainments." Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

"The short story I read recently." Adlia didn't move her eyes from the desk calendar. "I don't have much literary accomplishment, but compared with yours, it is indeed quite profound."

"Although I voluntarily abandoned this part of the content, Adrian, you offended me a little."

Adlia was finally willing to look at him.

"Strange, this can offend you?" She said calmly, "I've learned—a gentleman who doesn't even have the heliocentric theory to bend his waist would be ashamed of his literary accomplishment."

"Adrian!" He put down the piano helplessly, "maybe you should be a little more polite to your piano player."

Adlia fumbled in her pocket, and there was a coin left, and threw it out nonchalantly: "Thank you, keep it next time, violinist."

Sherlock didn't see what it was, and subconsciously grabbed the small flying object, opened his hand to look at it, and sighed a little amusingly—a penny.

So his friend is in a good mood now, at least he knows how to make fun of his temper?He stuffed the copper coin into his pocket, and rubbed the small copper coin in his pocket.

Maybe it's time for him to ask his friends about his past?

He had a lot to know about Adrian's relationship with Mrs. Hudson, about the reasons for giving up medicine, about staying away from people.

There was only a short report on the case of Professor Parker, and because of Professor Parker's reputation, the newspaper made additional reports afterwards.The various stories caused a stir after they were published in the newspapers, and even Mrs. Hudson cautiously inquired about Adlia's thoughts.

The sensitive Scottish lady naturally sensed that Adlia was not in the right mood during this period, and she also knew some details from Sherlock, but she didn't know much about Inspector Brad who asked Sherlock or her medical problems. .She could only pick a time when Sherlock was not around to talk to her children alone.

Adlia, who has always kept her aunt from worrying, showed her fragility on a rare occasion. Perhaps Sherlock's hug really gave her some strength. She realized that she really needed a complete hug without distance.

"What's the matter?" Mrs. Hudson stroked her back tenderly, "Why do I feel like you've lost weight again?"

"It's nothing," she said in a muffled voice while bending over, "Auntie, your hands are a little dirty, and they will stain my clothes."

"You child, really, I didn't wash your clothes when they got dirty—" Mrs. Hudson's hand didn't stop, she patted her child gently, in her eyes, she was so thin .

A long, clinging hug she hadn't had in ages, and she knew her child's limbs would always be restrained.

For some reason, she felt like crying at this moment.

Adelia is actually a little confused, whether she has seen it or not, or asking this question itself shows that she has trapped herself.Reluctant to tell these things to her carefree family, she turned to another friend of hers.

When she said this to Smith, her designer friend stared at her in silence for a long time.

"You look better," he didn't answer directly. "In previous winters, I felt like you were going to die."

"It's not likely." Adlia did not deny it completely, she suddenly remembered that the bottle of her painkiller seemed to have not been opened for a long time.

"Maybe it's because Sherlock Holmes has dragged her to deal with too many messy things this winter, and she's not in the mood to feel sad." She did not shy away from Holmes' influence on her, "He is indeed a... miraculous person."

"Indeed, in previous winters you were skinny to the bone, but this year you seem to have gotten a little fatter," Smith shrugged. "I'm afraid he's not a detective, but a breeder or something."

Speaking of which, there's one thing Adelia desperately needs to confirm: "One thing comes to mind."

"Ok?"

"When you met Holmes for the first time, you told me that the great detective—" she drawled her tone, "can you tell me now, is he the Sherlock Holmes in the novel?"

When she spoke of the latter, she used the language of her previous life.Speaking of it, it was a little strange.

"Ah, you see," Smith admitted now, "I thought you'd be late."

Even though Adelia guessed the result, she still couldn't hold back her curse: "I'm so stupid, Smith, I'm so stupid, such an obvious answer is in front of me, and I have never discovered it."

Just thinking of this made her feel a secret embarrassment—she judged her roommate with a harsh and critical eye whether the other party could be a gentleman and whether he could stay here permanently, but it turned out that the other party was the famous detective in the book. I'm just a sludge struggling in a dark corner... And in the future, 221B Baker Street is his exclusive name, and I am the fleeting passerby?

She felt goosebumps all over her body.

"I also want to know why you didn't think of it at all," Smith said happily, "Detective, pipe, Baker Street... The elements are simply overflowing my friend, not to mention his name is Sherlock Holmes!"

"I've never watched a TV show at all! Whoever reads the translated version must have the English name corresponding to it! Who will remember which street the protagonist lives in the book?" Adelia couldn't help but touch her forehead and groan in pain. She even wanted to Get into the cracks in the ground, "It's good for you, you'll see my jokes!"

She's not a detective fan!

"I remember he was supposed to be wearing that cloaked overcoat and that weird deerstalker hat! Who knew the detective was just a fresh graduate? And he didn't have a doctor with him—"

Just as Smith was about to say that because the timeline of the story hadn't reached yet, he suddenly saw his friend's expression of enlightenment.

He had a hunch that his friend was wrong.

"Wait, isn't it me who is the doctor?" Adelia showed a look of enlightenment and disbelief, "Can Hudson be translated as Watson?"

Smith had many thoughts floating in his mind at that moment, and he was even speechless for a while.Although it is a little rare to translate Watson into Watson, Hudson should not be...?

But seeing Adlia immersed in her own world and shocked, Smith hesitated for a moment, and said politely: "Did you help him write his biography?"

"...He is following me to help him sort out those messy case files." Adlia hesitated.

Smith: I don't know, but I was blown away.

He coughed lightly, adjusted his sitting posture and adjusted his language, and said in a natural tone: "It's like this, maybe you really are?"

Adelia didn't quite understand, but Adelia was greatly shocked.

Seeing his friend whose world view has been overthrown and reshaped, Smith can hardly hold back his laughter.

——Adrian "Watson", sounds good too, if he feels like Watson, maybe his friends will have a more sense of belonging and have a purpose to live for a while.

As for the real Watson appearing, let's talk about it later.

Smith has always been open minded.

After Adlia left, Smith sat where he was for a long time, lost in thought.

The "Sherlock Holmes" in his memory never mentioned any relatives of Mrs. Hudson, and he couldn't analyze whether it was butterfly wings or a parallel world.

There is no way to assess what the future holds.The designer stroked his chin.

However, everything will develop naturally.

The author says:

adr: Watson is actually me! !

good!energetic!I'm finally here!Who is cool?Oh it turned out to be me.

Let's work hard to make a new wave every December!

Cheers December!

ps：adr念诵的那段出自莫泊桑的短篇小说《小步舞》。感谢在2021-11-2815:22:01~2021-11-3023:05:01期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel who threw mines: Trista Nana Nana 1;

Thanks to the little angels who irrigate the nutrient solution: 30 bottles of Detective Xiaowang; 10 bottles of Suga who flew the plane; 2 bottles of rice noodles covered with cold skin;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard! ?