574 Trus (1/2)
Everything returned to silence.
On the quiet street, Ye Qingxuan pushed the wheelchair along, walking slowly, like he was taking a stroll after dinner. Watson sat in the wheelchair, a blanket on his knees, enjoying the service from the noble Grand Inquisitor. As if he could feel an aura very different from that of the past, Watson sighed softly. ”You've changed.”
”Oh?” Ye Qingxuan laughed. ”For better or for worse?”
Watson shook his head. ”You've gotten stronger.”
Ye Qingxuan asked, ”Isn't it a good thing?”
”Yeah, it's good.” For reasons unknown, Watson couldn't help but sigh softly. ”Very good.”
”With me being away for a long time, I didn't expect you to be getting by alright.” Ye Qingxuan shook his head. ”I thought you would be a bit more miserable, waiting for my rescue.”
Watson snickered. ”Haven't you realized something? As long as they stay away from you, anyone can get by alright.”
Ye Qingxuan was silent. After a good while, he scratched his head awkwardly and sighed. ”Your words are so cruel, Watson, they sadden me.”
”Oh come on, Ye Qingxuan,” the young man on the wheelchair snorted. Watson was unsympathetic, his tone malicious, as always. ”Nobody is obliged to become a savior to other people, do you understand? Your arrogance will be your demise sooner or later, no, hasn't it already destroyed you, more or less?”
”Who's to say otherwise?” Ye Qingxuan shrugged but didn't seem to mind at all.
”...” As if a sword had poked into cotton and the assailant did not see the blood he had expected, Watson had nothing to say and was instead somewhat irritated by Ye Qingxuan's indifferent attitude.
Watson rubbed his temples, inhaled deeply, and suppressed his annoyance, calming down once more. I shouldn't stoop down to that asshole's level, nor bother arguing with the likes of him, Watson thought. I should have known from the beginning.
So, he changed the subject and their chat could be continued. ”A lot of things happened while you weren't here.”
Ye Qingxuan nodded. ”I know.”
In the silence, Watson suddenly said, ”White Crow has appeared.”
After a moment of silence, he heard Ye Qingxuan's reply. ”I see.”
”Should we track him down?” Watson asked.
”Sure, go ahead and investigate, no hurry.” Ye Qingxuan's voice remained calm. ”Since he has gone into hiding for so long, he definitely wouldn't reappear just to buy coffee in Avalon during the discount season. On a side note, how many of our guaranteed routes remain as of now?”
”Not many are left,” Watson replied. ”Only two secret routes remain. Plus, with the demons in upheaval now, the ships get overturned easily.”
”I will give you 50 more men, all of them purifying musicians of the Religious Court of Inquiry, don't worry about the demons.” Ye Qingxuan placed an envelope on the thin blanket covering Watson's knees. ”The matters on the list, settle them properly in secret. Lola will assist you.”
Watson pinched the envelope to gauge its thickness and snickered. ”You have just gotten back and are already starting to send people on errands?”
”Capability invites laboriousness.” Ye Qingxuan patted his shoulder. ”I don't have many people that I can trust now.”
Watson was silent. He said no more.
…
After a long time, their long walk was finally over. The wheelchair stopped outside an inconspicuous villa. Upstairs, someone cautiously lifted a corner of the curtain and looked out. One could vaguely hear the sound of arrows being nocked, the rustle of steel scraping against each other lightly. After getting a clear view of the visitor on the wheelchair, the hostility dissipated rapidly. The gates opened, and the respectful subordinates took over Ye Qingxuan's job of pushing the wheelchair, surrounding and protecting Watson.
”I'll say my goodbyes here,” Ye Qingxuan bid farewell. ”I'll get going. If you need to contact me, go to Westminster Abbey and find an old man named Shi Dong. Although the old fellow is a slick, you can trust him.”
He turned and left, but was stopped by Watson's yell. ”Hey!”
Ye Qingxuan turned back.
”Not gonna come in and have a look?” Watson asked. ”Many are awaiting your return.”
Ye Qingxuan smiled. ”Nah, downtown is yours now.” He nodded as a gesture of farewell. ”Sherlock Holmes is dead. Although I'll miss those naive times, I no longer need to disguise myself with a mask.”
He paused and said, ”From now on, there is only one Ye Qingxuan.”
...
In midtown, inside the clock shop that had been closed for a long time, quiet ticks sounded one after another. After being closed for a few months and experiencing multiple upheavals, the place was still spotless and well organized. On the counter laid Hermes' favorite crockery set. The tea leaves were of a high-quality Indian variety that he had left behind. The tea was still hot, with swaying vapor rising from it.
Ye Qingxuan sat quietly, drinking the tea.
In the clocks' ticking, Setton, who was sitting on the armchair, carefully took off the pair of glasses that looked funny and tiny on him and closed the storybook in his hands.
”I see.” He whispered, ”He has really died...”
”Yeah.” Ye Qingxuan nodded.
”He was so annoying that it isn't surprising that he got killed.” Setton asked, ”Did he have any regrets in the end?”
”No.” Ye Qingxuan shook his head. ”I heard that he was smug and triumphant.”
Seton was silent.
After a long time, he sighed softly. ”It's indeed something he would do.”
”What are you going to do next?” asked Ye Qingxuan.