[Comprehensive] Today is also proving to Sherlock that I am a traveler

Allen turned his head and stared at her fiercely, "No, Flora is still alive, you people don't talk nonsense... I will protect her."

Krista saw that he was stern, restrained the subtle pity in her heart, and comforted her softly: "Yes, I know, she is still alive. She is so obedient and cute, no one will have the heart to hurt her."

He grinned, with an insane expression, "Flora, Dad is here to find you...my daughter..."

Krista pursed her lips, taking advantage of his distraction, knocked him unconscious with a knife, and caught his falling body.

The weight of the tall white man fell on her arms, she staggered and took several steps back.

Damn it!

For a moment, she forgot that this was not her original body. This was a genuine girl who was raised by thousands of pampers, completely different from her.

She hurriedly shouted to the door: "sherlock! help!"

Sherlock saw her predicament as soon as he entered the door, his expression was almost undetectable, and he relaxed, opening his mouth to sneer.

Christa, who had a preliminary understanding of his character, stopped him from speaking, "Don'tspeak! Help me support him first."

Sherlock walked over to support Alan, while habitually sarcasm, "It seems that four meals a day and five desserts did not save your pitiful strength."

She let go slowly, and sherlock's cool and rough fingertips were parted as soon as the fingertips that were soaked in fine blood gushed out continuously.

Sherlock's light-colored eyes drooped slightly with long curved eyelashes, and he could only see a large sticky blood stain on the chest of Alan's clothes.

The knife cut through her palm, and what she touched just now was the temperature of her blood.About 312T, the normal temperature of human blood, just flowed out not long ago.

"Put Allen on that bed." She gestured with her eyes.There are two beds in the ward, and the empty one is for the accompanying room.

"I have to bandage the wound first." She held up her bleeding hand.

This cut was a bit deep, and it may take a while to not touch the violin.I regret holding the blade directly with my hands. It is too troublesome to make up for the missed lessons! The teacher will definitely admonish her for not taking good care of her hands as a music student!

Hope to get well soon before the teacher comes back!

He put Alan down as he said, and glanced at Christa's bloody palm, "There are medicines and gauze in the cabinet on the left."

"Is the nursing home so complete?" She opened the cabinet next to the wall, gauze, cotton swabs, iodine, and a bunch of bottles and jars with complicated labels.

She didn't know many professional medical terms on these labels.She held a small translucent liquid bottle for a while, then put it down very self-consciously, "Sherlock, I don't recognize the labels."

Having seen the microbial culture dishes he made and some human tissues in 221B, she fully believed that Sherlock's medical knowledge reserve would not be bad.

"Did you learn your English on those stupid and boring talk shows?" Sherlock walked over, glanced at it, and took out cotton swabs, gauze, iodine, alcohol and hemostatic spray.

Just such a medical noun that one word is worth dozens of words, who has nothing to do to learn it!

She snorted coldly: "Yes. It's as if your communication skills are all realized from these profound medical knowledge."

"Did you learn any communication skills in those talk shows that were written in advance? Just use your hands to hold the blade? Next time you will defuse the bomb with your bare hands? How stupid." He stuffed a bunch of things at her, "Okay Alright, let's go sit down over there."

Christa hugged this pile of things with both hands, "Why don't you take down the plate on top?" Such a pile of things is easy to fall!

"That's the healing tray," he corrected.

"OK. Could you please pass me that healing plate?"

"No, trouble." He ruthlessly closed the cabinet.

Krista: "..."

***

She put the pile of things on the small table near the window, and reached out to open the window again.

When he turned around, Sherlock had already sat down, and he was lowering his head to unpack the hemostatic spray.

"Wait!" Krista finally realized what she was missing. "Would you like to heal my wound?"

"You can bandage a wound with one hand? No circus troupe in London teaches that yet."

"……cannot."

Christa sat obediently on the chair, and Sherlock lowered his head to disinfect her with iodine.

The movement was smooth and gentle, as if even the tingling sensation of iodine flowing through the wound was dissolved.Krista rested her chin on her good hand, and her gaze fell on his fluffy and soft curly hair.

With Sherlock's dressing skills, even if he doesn't become a detective, he can be a doctor without any problem at all.A genius is worthy of being a genius. He is easily superior in every aspect.Ah! His hair seems to be of good quality, and the ones that stick out are so cute, I really want to pull them off.

Sherlock put down the cotton swab, "What question did you ask Emma before?" His tone was flat and not aggressive.But Christa, who always instinctively felt danger, woke up instantly from the dream of pulling her hair. The hand in his palm that was waiting to be bandaged shrank back, and was caught in time, avoiding a knock-over of the iodine bottle. tragedy.

She was a little annoyed: "Can you stop thinking about tricking me all the time?"

He lowered his head regretfully and took out a roll of gauze, his voice was insincere, "Sorry."

"Hehe!" Christa gritted her teeth. Sherlock knew that she was deliberately trying to push him away, and she didn't stop him. It turned out that she was waiting here!

However, compared to him asking Emma, ​​waiting for Emma to explain himself in a few words, and having Sherlock suspect how the [-] pounds she promised to pay Emma came from, and being further doubted about his identity, he should take the initiative to be honest Better.

"Do you know what your brother paid me when he found me?" She narrowed her eyes, a little amused in her heart.

That Sherlock Holmes thought he had proposed a very tempting reward, but he didn't know that it was the so-called "reward" he proposed that made it impossible for her to agree to it.

Likewise, it is impossible for her to ask Sherlock.Both of these gentlemen were too sensitive, and once they set out to investigate, there was no guarantee that they would not find out that she had carefully concealed other purposes behind the discovery of the truth about her mother's death.

Only people like Sivir who have complex connections and are smart but not too smart are the ones she can entrust with confidence.

Sherlock wrapped gauze around her hand, "Your mother's death was no accident."

"No. Of course it was an accident, and it can only be an accident." She looked down at her hand. "Only when this incident becomes an eternal accident, can everyone live with peace of mind."

"You met... the painter at the airport restaurant, for your mother's death." He tied the final knot, and Krista pulled her hand away.Very good, almost no effect on normal operation.

"That's right. Music theory is only one aspect, and that's why I must come here." She tried to wave her hand, "Should we wait here for Lestrade and the others for four hours?"

"There is not only one Scotland Yard in the UK. The police in York will come soon." He recalled the route for a second, "At the speed they dragged, you can see them in about 10 minutes. In addition, I have to Said, your method of finding people at random is extremely stupid."

Christa smiled "puchi" and tilted her head to tease, "Dear Mr. Detective, are you trying to tell me that the best detective in London is standing in front of me, but I can't cherish him reasonably?"

"Obviously, your actions prove it." He folded his hands and looked confident.

"I won't ask you. Because this is a family matter to me. Dear Mr. Detective, you are just an outsider." She touched the wrapped gauze with her uninjured hand, a little novel, "and, I don't want to be responsible for your life! That elder brother of yours will kill me in a fit of anger."

"He won't. I don't need you to be responsible."

"Who can tell?"

"You suspect that this matter has something to do with your father."

She blinked, "Mr. Detective, you are too perceptive." She did not comment on his deduction, her tone was noncommittal.

The light in her eyes fluctuated, "In short, Sherlock, I don't want you to interfere in this matter. In any case, this is only my own business. If you get hurt or another accident happens, I will be sad. "

lie.A complete lie.he thinks.

The author has something to say: Sisi is a very gentle girl (serious face)

Someone actually thinks that my next dungeon will be about the wealthy sweetheart running with the ball, how is that possible?I want to write about domineering presidents and ordinary girls (see Meteor Garden).And isn't Bai Yueguang, the dog's blood stand-in, even more exciting.

In addition, there is one thing that I have always wondered. Why do I lose my favorites as soon as I update it? This is telling me that I should coo