Just say you lack output [Comprehensive Yingmei]

Apartment 221B Baker Street, London, UK.

Qing Xingdeng held her chin, and her eyes fell on the fresh ingredients in the two supermarket convenience bags. Ever since she was transformed into a ghost, she no longer needed human food, but she was unexpectedly interested in these human ingredients and The tools are at hand, and when I saw that fish, I automatically got a recipe for grilled fish in my mind.

——Intuition told her that the taste should be good, it seems to be very popular with cats, and Sherlock probably also belongs to cats.

"...It's strange, why do I have such confidence, have I ever used grilled fish to feed some stray cats on the street?"

Qing Xingdeng frowned in distress. In her memory, she seemed to have never had the experience of preparing dinner for anyone. Could it be that she accidentally lost her memory as a human being when she transformed into a ghost?

Forget it, it's not an important thing anyway.

The glamorous demon who is open-minded and easy-going by nature immediately put such trivial matters aside, she hooked her fingertips, and the demonic power lingering around her body immediately condensed into substance, and then turned into translucent sky-blue butterflies one after another. Flying out of the faint candlelight of the blue lantern, it flapped its gorgeously colored scaled wings in a swaying posture, and surrounded her in front of her body.

Qing Xingdeng said softly: "I leave it to you, little guy."

Black stubbornly separated dozens of streams of data and transmitted them into these beautiful and fragile bodies respectively, and then followed the recipe without complaint and started to prepare dinner. At the same time, seven or eight are divided into groups, and the division of labor for washing and cutting vegetables is clear, so there is no need for the owner to worry about it.

At the end, most of the butterflies stayed in the kitchen to clean up all kinds of utensils. Two stubborn little guys flapped their translucent wings, and pitifully cleaned out a layer of refrigerator compartments to keep fresh.

"There's no need to clean it up. Humans are different from ghosts. We can swallow the same kind to strengthen ourselves, but they think it's a big crime. They probably don't want to use the ingredients that are kept fresh with the internal organs of the same kind."

Qing Xingdeng recalled the two little guys who were so tired that they had no experience flapping their wings, and dropped a soft kiss on its translucent butterfly wings, with the meaning of love and comfort, Blake's tense tentacles in the butterfly's body were lightly Trembling slightly, it was so dazed that it forgot to flap its wings, and it fell straight on the soft shoulders of the host, and then quickly flapped its wings and flew up, downloading all the recipes in the main world for this.

And 23, who was hypnotized by Claude and closed her self-awareness, knew nothing about it. Most of her cognition of the outside world and the few memories she had left came from the Qingxingdeng data that had been changed by the system. In the world of missions, she will think that she is the Qingxing Lantern who is passionate about the Hundred Stories, and will follow Sherlock.

Black landed on the tip of her ear, and the light flapping of the butterfly's wings did not attract the attention of Qing Xingdeng State 23. The system looked at its host without saying a word, and transmitted the consciousness back to the chip.

And Qing Xingdeng drove the blue lamp under her seat to approach the kitchen, opened the two supermarket convenience bags, looked at the large bottles of pure milk and eggs and other materials, and involuntarily moved her gaze to the oven next to the refrigerator: "After dinner, milk and Cookies can be used as a late-night snack."

She thought for a moment, not quite sure: Can I bake cookies?

While she was thinking, Watson had already set the tableware and brought the dinner to the table one by one. Looking at the ghost who seemed to be thinking, he tentatively said, "Why don't you come and have dinner together?"

"I don't need human food. As long as the flame of the phoenix is ​​still burning, the blue lantern will give me enough strength to maintain my form."

Qing Xingdeng came back to her senses, staring down at the milk and a box of eggs in her hand, then she raised her head, smiled at this cute human like a little silver-white hamster, and said softly: "I'm going to prepare some supper, little one." How about the cookies? Is there any fruit in the flat, and if you and Sherlock agree, milky ones would be fine."

Watson: "...anything is fine, I have no objection."

Hell, even though this banshee may be more than ten times his age, she looks a round younger than him in appearance, so this familiar look, as if a human being is looking at some cute little animal, is simply It made him feel uncomfortable all over.

"It tastes like milk. Drink more milk to grow taller."

Under Watson's shocked gaze, Qing Xingdeng, who was always hanging in mid-air, twisted his waist slightly, and lightly jumped off the green lamp, which was regarded as his life, and began to process the required ingredients deftly.

Blake was also stunned: she went to the ground, sister Deng went to the ground!

Watson didn't think this scene was so shocking. He was actually surprised by the other party's seemingly good cooking skills. In fact, not only Watson, but even Sherlock should have a hard time imagining that such a powerful banshee can still cook. Cooking, after all, she doesn't need human food at all, and she doesn't look like a weak person who will be driven by humans to do these things.

The military doctor looked at her smooth movements and said with emotion: "Unexpectedly, your cooking skills are really good. Could it be that there were people like Sherlock in the past who dared to use stories to exchange you for housework?"

Qing Xingdeng casually chuckled, and explained: "How is it possible? Normally, human beings are afraid of unknown powerful existences, just like Sherlock's interpretation, and the existence of superheroes and ghosts, so most people Scream and run when you see my green lantern, only you and Sherlock are willing to talk to me."

The first reaction was Watson who closed the door and said, "...um."

In the next second, he watched the banshee, like a human kneading plasticine or rubbing hamster balls, lightly bent a sharp metal table knife into a bat-shaped biscuit mold.

Watson recalled the way she looked at him, and said strangely: "I thought you would prefer cute shapes like cats or hamsters."

"I do like cats, but bats are also cute, and it's kind of like 'we also live in dark nights'."

Qing Xingdeng's movements paused, and she looked at Watson with a smile: "Lovely little goldfish, you should have read my profile, do you know the legend of Hundred Monogatari? If you want to hear my stories and weird talks , you must stop before dawn, otherwise you will be dragged into hell by Qing Xingdeng after the hundredth ghost story is over."

Watson turned his head and left: "Excuse me, goodbye."

He has already learned about Qing Xing Deng's experience of being transformed into a ghost from the data, as well as her relatively gentle personality, and he is well aware of this wicked joke, but at the same time he also knows that the other party will never be able to leave Qing Deng and cannot see her. Sunshine's setting, combined with her performance just now, Watson felt that he might have poked the banshee's wound.

Watson and Sherlock continued to eat, but Qing Xingdeng held the bat mold and thought about it for a while. She really liked cats and canines more, and she was keen on any cute and obedient fur balls, so Not quite sure why she subconsciously took the shape of a nocturnal creature that is not only uncute, but also a little scary. It's hard to describe the feeling. She's sure she has a fondness for the bat, but she can't wait to pinch it Crushed and eaten.

She thought: There seems to be something wrong with my memory.

But whenever this thought comes up, there will be another force immediately suppressing her idea of ​​exploring. Qing Xingdeng is not obsessed with the past, her focus is still on all unknown strange stories, so she simply bent out a cat's claw mold , then send the cookies to the oven.

Black, relieved, was finally able to breathe a little.

When the dinner was over, Watson ordered Sherlock to help clean up the dinner plate. Sherlock finally realized the fighting power of the ghost vividly again. He stared at the mold on the chopping board: "What is that?"

Watson glanced at it: "An hour ago, the table knife, as for now, the cookie cutter is still in the shape of a cat's claw, so cute."

Sherlock's gaze shifted slightly: "I'll say the other one."

Watson paused, looked at Qing Xingdeng with a calm expression, and decided not to poke someone's wound, so he said concisely: "Mold experiment."

Sherlock, who had no idea what important information he had missed, nodded casually, recording the ghost's cat claw hobby.

Blake: "..."

It feels like if this continues, his data flow will be bald.

And Sherlock looked at the other table knife beside the mold that was kneaded into a ball and could no longer see its shape, and thought uncertainly: The cat's claws are really cute, and I don't know if the experimental product will be in the shape of a bell.

At this time, the timing oven finally made a "ding" sound.

Qing Xingdeng turned on the oven and reached for the baking tray.

The oven just finished the high-temperature timer, and it didn’t take a minute to dissipate the heat, so I took the baking tray with bare hands and replaced it with a human being. One can imagine the consequences. Not much difference, the data says that she is not a youkai who is good at fighting... Considering that table knife, this statement is pending.

Therefore, Sherlock, who saw this scene, subconsciously took a breath, immediately sank his handsome face, stepped over and grabbed the other's outstretched wrist, and restrained his strength to pull it towards the back.

The banshee's slender wrist was held in the palm of Sherlock's palm. Although he didn't use the most strength considering the space in the kitchen, he was still a little surprised by the motionless performance of the other party. A faint chill came from the skin that was in contact with the demon. However, Sherlock didn't have time to feel this, he frowned and let go of his hand: "Aren't you afraid of being hot?"

Qing Xingdeng looked up at him in a daze, she didn't speak, but her expression suddenly softened, as if she had suddenly lost the arrogance that was hidden in the bones of all ghosts when they first saw the present when they faced humans.

"It seems that the details of your information are not perfect enough, the second story will be traded for this."

Realizing his gaffe, Sherlock coughed uncomfortably, pulled out a pair of baking gloves and put them on the opponent's hands, explaining: "Humans usually wear these to prevent burns."

Of course, this also takes into account hygiene issues.

The banshee's eyes slowly fell on the pair of ordinary baking gloves, and then she smiled at Sherlock, and said softly: "The maximum heat of the oven can't pose a threat to me, you don't have to worry."

Sherlock: "..."

He showed a thoughtful expression, keenly aware of something wrong.