Chapter 27

"After the rain, clear skies"

It was afternoon.

A crowd streamed toward me from the entrance of the Italian restaurant where we had agreed to meet.

Each unfamiliar face was like a discrete data point, demanding that I quantify it immediately for a continuous simulation later.

But I didn't want to do that. I didn't know them, and I wasn't interested in them.

Yet their gazes crossed and, as one, focused on me. Their eyes were like magnifying glasses, scanning every detail of my appearance and leaving me uncomfortable, with no escape.

And at their enthusiastic words, the moment Watson and I met each other's eyes, I found myself looking at Lucian first.

In fact, before coming to the Italian restaurant, I had already explained the basics to Lucian—I needed a few friends to maintain the illusion that I had a normal social life at school. Lucian had readily agreed and assured me he had already found me some friends. All I had to do was show up.

He would surely smooth things over and put in a good word for me, just as I wanted.

I figured all he had to do was bring his friends over; it wasn't anything that required much thought. So I left him to handle it himself.

It wasn't until I heard Watson say, "Lanny, would you care to explain what you mean by 'choosing friends'?" that I truly understood the saying: better a godlike opponent than a pig teammate.

I desperately suppressed my embarrassment, as though trying to control a sudden storm. I didn't know whether I could handle the situation, and my unease was like the thunder and lightning before a storm, leaving me at a loss.

I could only try to cope. "Thank you all for your enthusiasm, but there may be a misunderstanding here."

Lucian keenly noticed that Watson, standing across the street, also had a phone in his hand. Clearly, Watson had noticed something too. Lucian's expression instantly became unreadable, and he quickly asked, "Was that the person you said was competing with you for a spot just now?"

The others naturally sensed something was wrong too, and their voices began to grow quieter.

A scene quickly came to mind: before we came here, I had asked Lucian how his preparations were going, and he had made a call to hurry someone along.

Now that Lucian had said that, the pieces all fell into place.

It suddenly occurred to me that Watson might have waited outside the restaurant for a long time, only to be driven away by these people, who didn't know what was going on. Watson was kind and hadn't intended to get into a dispute with them, so he had called me to suggest another place.

Once I worked it all out, I was utterly speechless.

Lucian's expression changed in an instant. The more perceptive students also realized there had been a huge misunderstanding, and their faces went from red to white to green. It was quite a sight.

The young man at the front explained, "Sorry, Student He. We heard you were coming here to eat and got so excited that we spoke without thinking. We were only wondering if we might have a chance to be friends with you!"

As he spoke, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at Watson, who was still behind him.

His nervousness spread to everyone, and none of them dared look back at Watson's expression. I had no idea what else had happened between them; all I knew was that I now insisted I didn't know them.

Lucian was skilled at reading the room. With a grand wave of his hand, he deliberately raised his voice. "You

people, what on earth are you doing? Barging in and interrupting Lanny's meal with his friend? Even if you want to make friends, you should pick the right time and place. This is private time, so don't bother Lanny."

Because I was close by, I could see Lucian making faces at them with his back to Watson, mouthing at them to leave: "Hurry up and go!"

Only then did the dozen or so students escape the awkward situation with relief. Before leaving, they didn't forget to glance at us and then at Watson.

Once they had left, Lucian turned toward Watson with a beaming smile and said with absolute conviction, "Lanny and I are friends."

He was still trying to cover for himself.

I glanced at him, wanting to see what else he could possibly say.

Lucian promptly added, "There may have been a misunderstanding just now. Please don't read too much into it. Those people are all idiots, so don't pay too much attention to what they said."

I remained silent beside him. Besides being speechless, I was waiting for Watson's reaction.

After all that commotion, had Watson believed them? Or was he still weighing it up?

My thoughts were a tangled mess, and I was deeply conflicted.

Just then, Watson nodded to Lucian, indicating that he had listened to what I said. My heartbeat seemed to grow more pronounced, as though racing in anticipation and apprehension of his response.

Soon, Watson looked at me, a touch of seriousness in his voice. "Lanny, let's have a word first."

His words made my heart tighten. I couldn't predict what would happen next.

We had covered up the lie far too hastily, robbing Peter to pay Paul.

Watson was no fool, and he wouldn't be led astray so easily.

When he took me aside to talk, the serious look on his face made me nervous.

His brows were slightly furrowed, as though he meant to see into the secrets of my heart.

I understood why he was like this.

Because I had tried to deceive him.

I couldn't help feeling a little guilty and ashamed.

Even if I said it was really because I didn't want Watson to worry, that wouldn't change the nature of what I had done.

I was trapped in an embarrassment I couldn't escape, and even saying sorry became unusually difficult.

I met Watson's serious gaze for a few seconds. Then, suddenly, he smiled at me. "Our Lanny really does love doing silly things."

His smile held both resignation and indulgence.

Sherlock often said the same thing, but hearing it from him and hearing it from Watson felt entirely different.

As soon as he said that, it was as though the weight on my shoulders lifted, and I could breathe more easily. I searched for words to explain. "Yesterday we talked about the Mathematics Department, and you said you wanted to come to school and meet my friends. I was worried that if I didn't have any friends, you'd be very worried."

"I really was worried about you," Watson said frankly. "You never like talking about your own affairs, and I was afraid that if you ran into trouble, you wouldn't dare ask anyone for help. This morning, I was actually thinking of bringing Sherlock along too. I wanted him to help assess your friends. I worry that you might be deceived or bullied too."

Though I was touched by what Watson said, hearing Sherlock's name gave me quite a fright.

Sherlock always gave the impression that he knew everything, yet he never spoke lightly.

In front of him,

no lie had anywhere to hide. A single glance at him was enough to make a person nervous.

But Watson smiled and went on, "Sherlock turned me down this morning, though. I saw him smiling while he read the newspaper, and I didn't understand why at the time. Thinking about it now, he may already have seen through your lie."

I felt terribly embarrassed. "Sorry, I really didn't mean to."

"No, no, no, this has nothing to do with being sorry." Watson paused, then admitted, "Actually, I was also afraid I was interfering too much in your life. At least, I've never heard of a roommate helping to check on another roommate's friends. When I suggested this last night, I did wonder if you might come to dislike me."

I hurriedly said, "I wouldn't. I'm very grateful for how much you care about me, Watson."

To put it plainly, I actually liked and enjoyed being cared about.

Watson looked at me gently and sincerely. "If I do something that makes you unhappy, you must tell me, all right? If you agree, how about we call it even?"

I quickly said, "All right."

The awkward situation had been gently resolved by kindhearted John Watson.

With Watson, I could always feel warmth and support.

When we returned to the restaurant, Lucian seemed to realize that I was going to send him away too. Rather than say more to me, he struck up a conversation with Watson. As the two chatted, things developed into the present situation—with Watson's consent, the three of us went into the Italian restaurant together.

Most annoying of all, Watson really enjoyed talking to him.

If only I could be a little more outgoing and lively.

Even though I was in London, England, I wasn't particularly keen on Western food, much less inclined to seek out Western restaurants. This was my first time going out for a Western meal. Watson knew I wasn't used to raw or cold food, so he ordered pizza, spaghetti bolognese, and roasted tomato bruschetta for me.

The bruschetta was a slice of oval-shaped sourdough bread topped with carefully prepared ingredients. Eaten together, it had a pleasantly chewy texture, and the juices from the seasoned roasted tomatoes blended into it just right. It was very enjoyable to eat.

While Watson and Lucian chatted, I quietly ate two pieces. When I looked up again, I found Watson watching me. He smiled and said, "Lanny, what do you think? Do you like it?"

I nodded. "I do like it after trying it. Maybe I'm just not very used to cold, raw food."

Watson chuckled softly and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "That's all right. I wasn't very used to it at first either, but gradually I got used to it."

Lucian continued chatting animatedly with Watson, while I watched them intently, a feeling of gratitude welling up in my heart.

I remembered how, when I first came to London, I had trouble interacting with other people. But Watson hadn't rejected me. Instead, he had patiently talked with me, supported me, and cared for me, gradually helping me open my heart.

During that time, Watson and I had shared countless moments of laughter, confusion, and warmth. Whenever I ran into a problem, he would always listen patiently to my complaints, then offer encouragement and advice. He was my first friend in this unfamiliar city, and also the person closest to me.

Just as I was lost in those memories, Watson suddenly reached out and patted my shoulder. "Lanny, what's wrong?" he asked softly.

I looked up at him and couldn't help

smiling. "Nothing. I was just thinking about the time we've known each other."

He smiled faintly, seeming to understand how I felt. "Yes, time really does fly. We've already spent quite a lot of time together."

I nodded, warmth welling up in my heart. I knew I could show him every part of myself without reservation, and that he would always stand by my side. At that moment, I truly felt the friendship between us. We didn't need too many words; the understanding between us was already deep enough.

Outside the window, the setting sun was gradually sinking, casting a gentle light and shadow.

I looked at Watson and then at Lucian again, thinking that this would actually be the perfect time to send Lucian away and call Sherlock over.

But it was only a passing thought. The moment I imagined Sherlock learning about the whole affair and teasing and mocking me without hesitation, I instantly came to my senses.

As we ate and talked, Watson remained mostly interested in my school life.

As far as I was concerned, school life consisted of nothing but studying. And when discussing the contents of my theory classes at home, I always felt that my personality was too dull. I had to admit that I wasn't very good at striking up a relaxed conversation. Lucian, by contrast, could talk about many other things: good food, amusing incidents, even the flustered state everyone got into during quizzes, all in a funny and vivid way.

Lucian turned to us and said, "Recently, there have also been some worrying safety issues at school."

He went on to explain, "I heard that several students were followed while walking back alone at night, and someone was inexplicably attacked as well."

Seeing that we were both looking at him, Lucian spoke with even more enthusiasm, gesturing with his hands and feet as he explained, "It's the road from the University West Gate to the station. Farther along, it passes the school's garden, and the streetlights there aren't very bright. After hearing that several people had run into trouble, school security started patrolling there."

Watson looked at me and said, "Lanny, you sometimes go home rather late. Be a little more careful these days."

I nodded.

Lucian then asked, "What made you decide to come back to the University of London, Mr. Watson?"

I hadn't told Lucian the details. He only knew that someone was coming to see me and that I needed friends to maintain the illusion of a normal social life.

Watson couldn't very well tell Lucian how he really felt, either.

Some things only needed to be understood between the two of us. Telling an outsider would require a lot of explanation and only make things troublesome.

Watson paused, then said, "Last night I heard Lanny mention something about the Mathematics Department. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't been back in a long time, so I thought I'd come take a look."

Lucian also began eating melon. "What happened in the Mathematics Department?"

Mindful that they were still near the university, Watson didn't go into much detail, but Lucian had already understood perfectly. He mused, "A scholarship student, from overseas, withdrawn, doesn't associate with others." As he spoke, he glanced in my direction. It was as if he were putting labels on me, each one hitting the mark, without doubting the answer he had come up with.

Realizing that I had seen through his thoughts, Lucian couldn't help laughing awkwardly. "Actually, I wasn't thinking that deeply about it."

I said flatly, "I haven't even started saying anything, and you're already in a hurry to expose yourself."

My head was still full of ways to get rid of Lucian, but before I could find an opportunity, Inspector Lestrade suddenly appeared at the restaurant entrance. His stern, serious gaze swept over the restaurant until his eyes met ours at the table. Lestrade walked straight toward us and displayed his police identification, as though carrying out a routine duty.

"Lanny, there's been a murder connected to you. Please come back to Scotland Yard with me."

As soon as he finished speaking, he paused briefly. Before the three of us could react, he added, "Lanny, you can finish dinner before you leave. It's all right."

Inspector Lestrade's arrival made my heart tighten, and a brief wave of panic swept over me. But his words made me breathe a little easier, and I silently prayed that the skies would soon clear after the rain.