Chapter 330: Chapter 330

Unable to figure it out, Dr. Watson could only close his mouth and stand up straight, trying his best to appear more presentable. This continued until the villa's main door slowly opened from within.

The person who came to answer the door was a tall, slender middle-aged maid. When she saw the visitors, the woman didn't seem particularly surprised and familiarly led the way for both of them:

"You've come. The master has been quite busy with official matters these past few days and probably won't return until later."

Sherlock nodded slightly to indicate he understood.

The well-arranged courtyard, the pebble-paved pathway, the purple flowers adorning the corners of the walls. In this London filled with machinery and smog, everything appeared so full of vitality.

This was undoubtedly an elder who loved life and possessed refined taste.

Unconsciously, Watson made this assessment in his heart.

He never expected Sherlock's elder to be . Until a five or six-year-old boy walked out from the living room, wearing an exquisite white shirt and blue suspender shorts, with the same black hair as Sherlock.

Before Watson could marvel at the little gentleman's face that seemed kissed by an angel, he was stunned by the boy's form of address.

Under Watson's barely concealed astonished gaze, the conversation between uncle and nephew continued in the living room:

After looking around, the little boy with the angelically charming face soon spoke again:

"Wow, coming at this hour and bringing your new roommate along. Congratulations indeed! It seems after skipping for a whole week, Uncle, you've fortunately encountered another interesting new case!"

"A poor lady in a 'less than ideal' situation? Oh, and she brought along an interesting cipher game too."

After his azure blue eyes scanned both of them for several seconds, the little boy quickly reached a conclusion:

And with considerable interest, he lifted his little head and said:

"So, Uncle came to ask Mom for help this time? An interesting numerical cipher?"

Shocked, he watched as in just a few short seconds, this... six-year-old boy? had clearly deduced their entire experience and even their purpose, while showing obvious interest in the area of his roommate's chest where he carried his notebook...

Oh, Sherlock's biological nephew!

Wait, no problem my foot!

First his roommate, then a mere six-year-old child battering his intelligence—Watson nearly went crazy on the spot.

Good heavens, had the Holmes surname been blessed with some strange wisdom aura?

In any case, under the barrage of shocking information, Watson naturally and completely forgot the most crucial detail about the person seeking help that the boy had mentioned.

"Dear Mr. Crain, if I'm not mistaken, you haven't completed today's assignments yet!"

"A lovely little birdie!"

The response came from his biological uncle with an equally sweet smile.

From the living room came the clearly distraught cry of the little darling.

Ignoring his little nephew's pitiful expression, Sherlock casually handed his removed trench coat and top hat to a nearby maid, then very naturally half-reclined on the nearby sofa, pulling his obviously stiff friend Watson to sit beside him.

Soon, a maid brought sweet tea and pastries.

However, even after more than half the pastries on the table had been consumed, only the two gentlemen remained facing each other in the living room.

As for the little fellow from earlier, the homework spell was undoubtedly a curse no child could escape, even if that child bore the Holmes surname.

Perhaps because the space had grown too quiet, Watson finally couldn't restrain himself and turned to look at his friend beside him:

"Sherlock, this elder you mentioned!"

Could it be that their personality is just like Sherlock's? Or perhaps they're simply not here.

Watson couldn't help but suspect in his heart.

Seemingly reading his companion's thoughts, Holmes finally looked up from his notebook:

"No need for suspicion, Watson. The 'elder' you speak of is indeed an exceptionally brilliant individual, with keener perception in mathematics and even logic than myself. Of course, if she could control herself and not spend excessive time on trivial matters like maintaining her beauty..."

"Believe me, her achievements across various fields would only be more outstanding! And she herself would be even more captivating!"

As if sensing something, the great detective suddenly spoke.

"Sherly, haven't I told you before? Evaluating a lady behind her back isn't behavior befitting a gentleman..."

Accompanied by light footsteps from upstairs, Watson instinctively looked up.

Seaweed-like golden hair, still slightly damp, casually fell in front of her. Azure blue pupils as clear as the little boy's from earlier, a simple casual lake-blue gown, elegant with an indescribable grace.

This was undoubtedly an exceptionally young and beautiful lady.

Sherlock's niece? Sister? Another Holmes?

No, she had just called him Sherly—a clearly affectionate form of address.

Confused by the tangled relationships, the bewildered Watson instinctively thought this. Just as he was struggling with how to address her, he saw the person beside him already speaking:

"Oh! A full half hour..."

"Dear Lady Anne, does your dear brother need to remind you? That's a full fifteen minutes longer than last time..."

"Similarly, obsessing over a lady's time isn't something a gentleman should do," the newcomer quickly responded.

Clearly, this beautiful lady wasn't bothered by someone's daily venom-spitting and was quite accustomed to it.

After pausing her gaze on Sherlock for a moment, the newcomer soon extended her hand:

The meaning was quite clear:

Alright, Sherly, isn't time urgent?

Contrary to Watson's expectations, Sherlock beside him actually very obediently handed over his notebook.

Never imagined this word could one day describe Sherlock! Watson felt dazed once again, but the next moment:

"By the way, this must be Dr. Watson. I am Anne de Bourgh Holmes, very pleased to meet you!"