My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

There was no difference between the two people as usual, they still sat and talked about some irrelevant things: the historical origin of Christmas Eve, the meaning of the Bible and Jesus, priests or clergy.

Obviously, the two atheists still resonate very much on these contents.

Sherlock found that although his friends kept chatting, they would sometimes pause, as if they had other things on their minds.Although his friend is not usually an alcoholic, almost half of the bottle of wine went into his belly this day.

Satisfied with food and drink, Adlia stretched contentedly, and interlaced her fingers. This posture made Sherlock seem to see herself.

In fact, maybe two people have stayed together for a long time, and their movements are somewhat similar.

Adlia unbuttoned the first button of her shirt, sat up on the table suddenly, stared straight at Sherlock: "Although I don't admit that I lost, how about you talk about the question you want to ask?" ?”

Sherlock was silent, seeing her empty glass, but he was like a kitten licking water without taking a few sips, and rarely felt uneasy.He had a hunch that he was at a fork in the road, and if he made a mistake, he might end up with an ending he didn't want to face.Where rational analysis fails...

Although he doesn't like alcohol, he drank the contents of the glass and filled it for the two of them.

Adelia's eyes are already a little blurred, but if she is not a familiar person, I am afraid I can't tell how much she drank and how drunk she is.

"Then, cheers?" She raised her glass with a rare smile on her lips.

"Merry Christmas."

There was a crisp sound when the glasses collided, and a few drops of the pale golden wine splashed out. The two drank it tacitly, and put the glasses on the table almost at the same time.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Sherlock asked after a pause.His face turned pink. As he himself said, he doesn't tolerate alcohol very much, let alone drinking straight alcohol this time.

"Is this the question you want to ask?" Adlia asked back.

Sherlock looked into her eyes fixedly, and there seemed to be some water mist ripples on the usually calm emerald green lake—she was prepared for everything, but she seemed unbearable.

He sometimes thinks that his friend is like a sapling under a boulder, seeing that it is about to grow out of the crack, but it is still fragile and may be destroyed at any time.

This may be a good time, but it may not be. After all, the great detective is recklessly surrendering reason to intuition.

"What I want to ask is," Sherlock also leaned on the armrest with his elbows, and interlocked his fingers, "I want to ask about your relationship with the profession of a doctor—well, the entanglement."

After he said it, he sighed in his heart in a trance, thinking that the alcohol had gone to his head.

Adelia burst out laughing.

"That's a really big problem," she said, "and entanglement is a nice word."

She tilted her head.

In fact, it’s so subtle, two people, lit candles, had dinner around the fireplace, and there were flowers (although not roses) carefully selected by the maid at the table. In the past, it was a dating between men and women.Opposite him is just a handsome man of genius level, if it was before...

She thought about it, as if she had never been in love. From a certain point of view, it could be considered a severance of love?

Amused by her own adjective, she held back her laughter until she shivered.Maybe it's okay to just go on like this?

Sherlock was puzzled, but he did not interrupt.

"Maybe after you know what I want to say, you won't have this question anymore, although this question contains a lot of information..." She pouted her mouth, and under the stimulation of alcohol, she said that sentence, " If you knew my biggest lie, maybe you wouldn't consider me your friend anymore—so you're sure that's what you're asking?"

She said it with a smile that was completely different from usual, with a gentle and open expression.

—even if Sherlock changed the question and asked her what the lie was, she would have accepted it.

She put what she thought was the most important question in front of Sherlock, but Sherlock didn't seem to take it to heart.

"I am sure."

This is the first time for Sherlock to hear Adrian laughing so happily and comfortably. He didn't suppress his voice. It was completely relaxed, undisguised, presumptuous and unrepressed. Sherlock could also tell that his voice was actually not as good as usual It's so mellow, but when it reaches a certain scale, it seems not continuous enough.

Adelia gently wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with her knuckles—she didn't know why she was laughing.

Maybe it was fate that brought her here, she thought, if she was really Watson, maybe it was because she kept her identity a secret all her life?

Whether it is becoming a doctor, giving up becoming a doctor, dying, being reborn, choosing a doctor again, giving up again, and now - she has been pushed away by fate.

If her friend is the main character in the book, then maybe this is her fate?

"I used to want to be a surgeon." Her voice was much lower and hoarse than usual because of drinking and laughing. "Because I was relatively thin and not strong enough, the teacher persuaded me gently, so I gave up—just, I gave up." It's easy."

Also because of gender, but since Sherlock rejected the truth of that lie, she wouldn't tell it either.

"Before I entered the medical school of Cambridge University, I used to see the same doctor, and there were often emergency patients," her tone gradually slowed down, maybe a little low, or maybe not, "We usually give priority to emergency and severe cases, But you need to know that there are patients who look fine, but whose vital signs are weak."

"I can barely be considered an intern, but I can also handle general situations independently. I remember that day there was a patient who was screaming in pain but relatively mild. The teacher thought it was very routine and I could take care of it alone," her eyes gradually Out of focus, "Then my teacher came and asked me to see another patient together, saying that there may be internal bleeding, and it is likely to be in shock."

"The critically ill patient came late and was even chatting freely, but my experienced teacher judged that if he didn't deal with it, he might go into shock and die," it was a patient with internal organ hemorrhage in a car accident, she still remembers, "so I Temporarily let go of this patient who seems to be dying of pain, and prepare to deal with him first with the teacher."

"The patient with abdominal pain," Adlia paused to cover up her sobs, "when the teacher and I were about to place the patient who might be in shock, if he bumped away from me, he would definitely—"

She stopped again.

"In front of me, I will—"

She reframed the sentence, but she still couldn't finish the sentence.

But he understands.

Just now when Ming Ming smiled, she shed tears, but at this moment, her eyes seemed to have dried up. Adelia wanted to pour some wine for herself, only to find that the bottle was empty.

Sherlock silently poured her a glass of water.

"The scene was too chaotic later, even though there were doctors who came to support him afterwards, but—" she shook her head, "Teacher, and that patient, all..."

She took a sip of water.

"But then, maybe I was reckless, or maybe I really didn't know what industry to pursue, so I chose medical school," she sighed, "and then came the death of Ms. Tregennis. Those who were murdered were stabbed in the back unsuspectingly, and raped afterwards.”

"Coincidentally, my height is similar to the murderer's, and even the size of my shoes is similar." Thinking of this, Adelia is still a little helpless. When I received auscultation, a patient pointed out that I had molested her, and she happened to be a beautiful lady."

"That clinic is not a big one, and it's a little far from Cambridge, and it's not a well-known clinic. Brad thinks there must be something strange about me appearing there." She sighed again, "I went to prison in a daze .”

"Inspector Brad directly referred the matter to Professor Parker. Professor Parker was willing to come forward to guarantee me, but I refused. I didn't want to make the matter public, and I didn't want to tell my aunt," she shrugged, " Because of Professor Parker's relationship, and because I stuffed the money, the detective at the time came forward and said that after all, he was a promising student at Cambridge University and tried to keep a low profile. So Brad was forced to die with me. Wow, after repeated interrogation, I finally got a piece of evidence, and he gave up, and because of Smith's mediation for me, we found the real murderer. I won't repeat the details."

"I can only say that maybe I'm not suitable to be a doctor," she smiled with the corners of her mouth raised, but her eyes were indifferent, "Even if I didn't become a doctor, I was still shocked by such things. Faced with the teacher's death for the first time, I was also a patient, and it was also...I..."

Her fingertips ran across her neck, and she sometimes suspected that she would die like this in the future.

"I sometimes feel like it's destiny," she sums it up with a light-hearted fate.

But it was obvious that every subtle expression told Sherlock that his friend had never accepted his fate.

Sherlock got up suddenly, walked to the window, opened the window, and the cold wind howled, instantly swept away the heating in the room.

"It's going to be an easterly wind," he said, looking back at his friend. "It's going to be very cold, very strong."

Adelia thought to herself, yes, I have been blown to such an extent that I am not in the mood to feel sad.

He speaks with his usual calm sanity, but with a theatrical chant:

"A wind like this has never blown in England.

"This wind blows and many of us may wither, but it's still God's wind.

"When the storm has passed, a purer, better, and stronger land will stand in the sun."

Inexplicably, Adelia felt that this sentence was very familiar, but she really couldn't remember the source.

Maybe the source is "Sherlock Holmes", she laughed silently.

"If I go against the arrangement of fate again, I'm afraid it's too hopeless." She tried to expose it with a relaxed tone.

"Idealists are hopeless." He replied quickly, his tone soft but firm.

Adelia was silent for a long time: "I'm not an idealist."

Sherlock turned, closed the window, half leaned against it, and did not expose his friend: "Perhaps, perhaps, I mean myself."

The author says:

Ode to the Dongfeng, from the Sherlock Holmes collection, adr your intuition is right!

Idealists are inherently hopeless.This quote comes from Nietzsche.The first time I heard it was said by Professor Tao Yong, I specially recorded it to find the source, I like this sentence very much, hehe.

Lao Fu actually guessed that Adr is a girl!But he has no evidence!If there is no confirmation, he can refuse to admit it and continue to get along in the usual way, so he didn't look for evidence, nor did he ask the heroine for confirmation.

This is Lao Fu's intuition (are you sure it's not the author's bad taste?

I asked my friend at that time, what question do you think Lao Fu will ask with this bet, and my friend said "Will you marry me", hahaha.Lao Fu wasted the opportunity.

然后虽然数量少但渐渐有新朋友来诶！开心！感谢在2021-12-0717:42:54~2021-12-0823:12:23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 the grenade: Shiyi 1;

Thanks to the little angel who threw the mine: 3 for Shi Yi; 1 for Poirot's sexy brain;

Thanks to the little angels of the irrigation nutrient solution: Fairy, Ravenclaw Mary, Yuejian 10 bottles; Unlucky Child 8 bottles; Lazy Little Wool, Little Question Mark 5 bottles; Time Traveler 2 bottles;

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