[Comprehensive] Great detective is haunted

After breakfast, Sherlock lay leisurely on the sofa and played with his mobile phone.

Even an Internet addict like Weiwei has to admit that Sherlock's hands are extremely fast, and more than once Weiwei received a long reply just after sending a message.

Frankly speaking, just watching Sherlock's slender fingers tapping on the 26 keys of the BlackBerry feels like a very beautiful action. If it was really the former Ye Weiwei, Weiwei would have already exclaimed ah ah ah ah Ah ah ah so handsome so handsome prprpr and the like.

Although numb now... well not numb.

Although I still can't help but quietly brush the barrage in my heart, but on the surface, I have learned enough to be calm.

After all, no matter how flustered or flustered she is, she must maintain a calm and aggressive attitude, which is what she learned from her former professor.

It's not facial paralysis, it's real calm.

In the beginning, it was actually because Weiwei's reaction was always slow, and then Sherlock grasped this point and forced Weiwei to remain calm when she reacted—this is a kind of talent of Weiwei.

In lie detection or many occasions, people observe the expression and focus on the fastest reaction at the moment when they just heard and saw something, because it is almost impossible to hide.And Weiwei is always half a beat behind—this shows that most of the time, what others observe is not the true reflection.

Well, Weiwei doesn't know if this is a different kind of saying that she is stupid, but anyway, she is calm enough now.

Vivi's calm expression, regardless of heart rate and other aspects, can even deceive Holmes.

Weiwei was reading a book by Paul Eckerman. She had already read this book, but she was going to review it.

Sherlock was right, she should learn something to complement him so that it would make sense for her to stay with him.

She didn't know how long she had been reading, but she was devoting herself to it when her book was suddenly taken away. When Weiwei raised her head, she saw Sherlock frowning and flipping through the book quickly.

"I have to say that the author does have certain abilities, but for you now, this is not a top priority," Sherlock has put on a suit at some point, and from Weiwei's point of view, Sherlock is tall and handsome, handsome almost suffocating.

"Then what is my top priority?" Weiwei was not in a hurry to take back the book, "By the way, what are you going to do, Sherlock?"

"I'm going to the movies, and you are going to meet someone."

Sherlock casually put the book on the tea table aside, then took out a small sticky note, from nowhere, he took out a pen and wrote something on it as if by magic, directly, insert / into Vivi's breast pocket.

Weiwei almost subconsciously wanted to shrink back,

Sherlock didn't notice this, he tugged at his neckline uncomfortably, and frankly said he didn't like it.

But ok for mommy's pleasure - she wants to see him and his fat brother in bro outfits.

simply……

Well he can't say his mommy is stupid.

Sherlock felt a little uncomfortable in his heart.

In addition to this point, there is another point that his graduates may really be leaving.

And he suppressed such emotions.

"Watching a movie? Sherlock, are you kidding me?" Weiwei was stunned for half a second, and then asked, "I mean, I thought you had no interest in this boring way of passing time for ordinary people, let alone What's more, if you act, you will definitely not be inferior to any actor."

"Have you learned everything you should have learned for nothing, Vicky?" Sherlock's tone was a little impatient, "Try to reason, Vicky. Obviously, I am the kind of person who would never do such a thing, and would direct me like this Who else but my dear mommy would put me in a stupid bro costume?"

It took Weiwei half a second to figure out what it was, but it seemed that the most suitable time for laughing had passed.

She suppressed a laugh—in order not to make her professor, oh, her superior feel angry or other bad emotions—changed another topic: "Sherlock, I don't think I should use this kind of reasoning on the people around me." , especially you."

She actually wanted to say that a long time ago.

At this moment, she saw that his back was slender, maybe as he said, thanks to his well-fitting coat, he did look thinner.But Weiwei knows better than anyone else what kind of strength is brewing in each of his skeletal muscles.

His presence made her feel—safety, trust.

Maybe that's why she confused her feelings at some point, and then found that she was gone forever in a certain emotion.

Sherlock stopped pulling his collar: "I don't think I understand what you mean."

He said it very frankly. After he finished speaking, he turned his head, frowned, and squinted at her.

Weiwei didn't avoid his eyes, just looked at him like this.

not understand?

How could Sherlock not understand.

It's like when a case happens, there will be detectives filled with indignation because of the viciousness of the criminal, and Sherlock will say that he doesn't understand what kind of emotion it is - it's not that he doesn't understand, he knows it will be like this.

Because normal people do that.

He understands.

It's just that he wouldn't do it - when he thought that pointless emotional consumption was just a...waste.

And now, he was looking at her with the eyes of a student who tortured him, and in a formal suit, he might have looked like a lawyer.

He said he didn't understand.

"You understand Sherlock," Weiwei relaxed and lay down on the sofa, "I said, I shouldn't use what you taught to reason with you."

"Very good." His eyes still stayed on Weiwei's.

"If it makes you feel a little more fulfilled—people always like to pursue some strange sense of ritual, like marking something."

He snorted softly.

"I made an appointment for lunch for you, don't be late." He turned his head away before going out.

When the door closed, Weiwei almost went limp all over.

She bit her lip and exhaled, and took out the yellow post-it note from her breast pocket.

Ok?

Weiwei quickly glanced at the time.

Fuck, I have to take a taxi to go out now, or I will be late.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In fact, what Weiwei was worried about didn't happen. When she rushed to the restaurant and found the agreed place, the other party hadn't arrived yet.She asked the waiter to confirm that "Mr. Carl" had reserved the seat before she sat down with peace of mind.

Mr Carl.

What is the new commission?Why did you ask her to make a special trip to meet him?

If it was really a commission, Sherlock should say hello to her or something, so it seems that it has something to do with her?

Carl... who is Carl.

Weiwei took out his mobile phone a little bored.

The sound of hurried footsteps sounded like this, and they were getting closer and closer.

Weiwei was a little sensitive in this regard, and quickly raised her head to look at the person coming.

The walking posture of the other party is like a huge walking question mark (1), and Weiwei can almost easily recognize the impatient expression of the other party.

The man looked about 40 years old, and even if he didn't stand very close to Weiwei, he could easily recognize the indifference that seemed to be the habit of a genius.

The face is tanned, and the back of the hands are tanned, but the wrists are white, not for sunbathing.Judging from the clothes, the other party is not a person who is short of money, but he is not very interested in dressing himself up. A suit can be worn without any knowledge of brains. The clothes are clean, but there are wrinkles that have been slept in.His watch—the time displayed on the watch may be American time, and it still shows that it is more than seven o'clock in the morning.Her speculation might have skipped something, but she had already formed an impression.

Well, get rid of these impressions - her former professor told her that if all her thoughts have any leaps and bounds, then the previous ones will be regarded as futile.The point of logic is that the links are interlocking.

But it doesn't matter, when this person sat down, Weiwei realized that this person was also looking at her with examining eyes, and she was too familiar with this kind of eyes.

According to the other person's appearance and his name "Carl", Weiwei quickly judged that this is the polygraph tester who published the paper years ago.

"Hello, Mr. Carl Letterman." Vivi politely stood up before the other party came, and then sat down as the other party sat down.

"Very well, it seems that you are very polite to those who may become your mentors in the future," Letterman perfunctorily twitched one side of his lips, "It seems that your former teacher taught very well."

"Actually, he didn't teach me that," Weiwei filled a glass of lemonade for him. "I asked the waiter to bring the lemonade before you came, or I think you need a cup of coffee now."

Letterman was noncommittal, and waved, and a waiter came over.

"Hey, this lady recommends me to drink a cup of Blue Mountain coffee. What kind of snacks do you think we should order?"

The waiter glanced hesitantly at the man who looked a bit rebellious, and then turned to Weiwei.

"It looks like a newcomer, because the skilled waiters can already quote the most expensive dim sum..." Letterman's American English was obvious, and it sounded very casual. Flipping, "Actually, who would only choose to eat dim sum at noon, well, the steak is medium rare, the most expensive kind, how about you, Miss Mayer?"

"Same." Weiwei smiled.

Weiwei has always been able to grasp the rhythm of getting along with this kind of person, otherwise she would not have coaxed Mr. Holmes so easily.

The menu card was handed back to the waiter.

"It seems that you don't care much about money." Letterman raised his eyebrows.

"I don't think you will ask me to pay." Weiwei didn't avoid Letterman's eyes, she looked quite calm.

"I'm not the kind of person who will be more humble to women..."

"I didn't say you'd pay for it either."

Very well, this topic is over.

There is no doubt that the money came out of the pocket of Mycroft, who made the British government not short of money.