The Unqualified Spy

At 2 p. m., a large griffin with variegated feathers, carrying two adults and a child, slowly landed in the backyard of the Detective Watson Agency.

"Thank you so much, both of you."

Detective Watson wiped his sweat and thanked Hai Na and Sherlock repeatedly, "Without your help, I'm afraid I would have died last night. Please stay and have a meal."

Hai Na stroked the head of the griffin Liz with some heartache. "You should thank Liz too... I didn't know she could actually carry us back."

Liz has not yet fully transformed into white feather, which means she is not yet an adult.

Even a steam train takes all night to travel, but this train, carrying two adults, a child, and luggage for two people, managed to fly back.

"—Thank you too, Miss Liz."

Watson bowed respectfully to the griffin, which was only a head shorter than him.

Liz shook her head and let out a clear, hawk-like cry. She couldn't speak yet, but she could understand human speech.

Little Sherlock, arms crossed, suddenly said, "Actually, this weight isn't much for her. Griffins are used to carrying fully armed adult males on their backs for long distances... Obviously, Hai Na, you're not much heavier than the armor and weapons combined. Don't spoil him too much; you can't just buy him a bicycle and then carry it around instead of riding it."

Liz yelled angrily at Sherlock.

I don't understand what it means. But it's probably an insult.

Hai Na quickly comforted her beloved griffin, hugging it and making incomprehensible whimpers, like soothing a child.

She really loves her griffin. She's only known it for less than two weeks, and she already spoils it rotten.

"No need for dinner tonight," Hai Na replied with a smile after calming Liz down. "If there's any fresh meat, we can give Liz some, and some water too. We'll rest here for a bit, and then we have to hurry back... If we're quick enough, we should still make it in time for New Year's Eve."

"Ah, yes, yes. Miss Liz, please come with me..."

With that, Watson led the proud little griffin into the house.

Hai Na then looked at Sherlock and asked softly, "I'm planning to go home. What about you?"

"... What do we do?"

Sherlock countered with a question.

"Didn't you send a letter home?"

Hai Na glanced at Watson's retreating figure and lowered her voice to ask, "He said he's not coming home for Chinese New Year this year..."

"Yes."

"So what are you going to do now? Go home again? Or go find Iver?"

Hai Na was a little worried.

Spending the Lunar New Year alone on the bustling Glass Island... it sounds incredibly lonely. Even for someone like Hai Na, who doesn't usually have much of a social life, just imagining that scene would make her feel a chilling loneliness.

"There's no need," Sherlock said indifferently. "The New Year is just a holiday. I'm too lazy to go out tomorrow... It's rare for me to come back, so it's more comfortable to stay home, rest, and read a book."

"Speaking of which, don't you have any potential romantic partners?"

Hai Na asked curiously, "Your good friend, Mr. Edward Moriarty, is married. Iver might be too... Have you really never been in a relationship all these years?"

She had been curious about this for a long time. But before, she hadn't been that close to Sherlock, so she hadn't dared to ask.

Although Sherlock isn't the type to hit people when he's angry... it's still very unpleasant to be stared at by him with eyes that look like he's looking at trash.

Now that they've gotten to know each other better, she finally dared to ask the question at this more appropriate time.

"No."

Young Sherlock reached out and tugged at his newsboy cap, responding indifferently.

"Why? Is it because there's no chance?"

"Because a detective's greatest enemy is his own emotions."

Sherlock calmly said, "The things about Path of Love are too emotional, chaotic, elusive and incomprehensible to me. In order not to affect my judgment, I will remain unmarried for life."

"Is this the oath you made?"

"You can think of it that way too."

Sherlock sighed, and seeing how curious Hai Na was, he explained further, "The Path of Wisdom is a lonely and selfish one."

"If dedication Benefiting Others, then wisdom benefits oneself; if love is emotional, then wisdom is rational; the balanced pursue results and meaning, while the wise value the process more."

"A selfish, impulsive, and meaningless person's actions are difficult for the world to understand. This is why walking the Path of Wisdom is destined to be lonely. When two devotees meet, they often have something in common; when two artists meet, they become each other's inspiration."

"—But two wise men can never walk the same path. Although they are not competitors like those Transcender, at least we are strangers to each other. Even if we are like-minded, we will never become companions who can stay together until old age."

"If that's the case, it's better to stay away from those beautiful things that will inevitably fall apart from the very beginning. This is the choice that wise people would make."

Sherlock answered in this way.

But just then, Watson's voice suddenly came from inside the room. "I think... maybe not."

He walked out, looked at Sherlock whose gaze had suddenly turned cold, and innocently raised his hands with a silly grin. "I really wasn't eavesdropping, I just have better hearing... the sound came to me by itself."

"Well, I don't know exactly how old you are. But at least I think that even wise people don't necessarily have to stay away from emotions."

Watson continued, using himself as an example. "You know, my father is a Mage Lord, and my mother is the Child of the Moon of the Path of Love. They are still very much in love... He is Fourth Level Great Mage, and even has the opportunity to advance to the Fifth Level. And even a mage like that can fall in love with someone else, right?"

"...snort."

Young Sherlock simply snorted and retorted sharply, "That's why you're a bastard, Mr. Watson. Your birth was neither celebrated nor acknowledged."

"No," Watson replied frankly, "I think it's precisely because I'm an illegitimate child that my birth is the result of pure love. Because both my father and my mother could have terminated my birth; and my birth would have brought them no benefit, only trouble."

He showed no aversion to his origins, and even laughed as he spoke, "It is precisely because I am an illegitimate child that I was able to come to Avalon. Because I represent no one... Apart from the blood flowing in my veins and my surname, I have nothing directly related to my father."

"In this respect, isn't this also my good fortune? I was born of love, into a wealthy family with loving and powerful parents. Yet, I don't have to bear any forced demands, because I have nothing to inherit, and therefore don't need to carry those hopes that I cannot bear."

Watson shrugged and said frankly, "I am indeed not a qualified mage, much less a wise man. I have lived for so long, and my Path of Wisdom is only at the Second Level."

—You came to Avalon not because of freedom, but because you are a spy.

Sherlock opened his mouth, intending to refute the other party in this way. But these things were really not suitable to be said directly.

But then it suddenly dawned on him... His father had sent him here on a mission and then used his personal connections to entrust him with protecting the other party. Wasn't that also a form of love?

... Can a mage also have love? This caused Sherlock's thoughts to briefly stagnate.

Seeing the newsboy hesitate, Watson smiled with satisfaction, "Based on your previous descriptions, my opinion of Mr. Iver has changed—after letting go of my old prejudices, I can now fully understand that he is a great man."

"Then I hope that you, Arthur, can also put aside your prejudices and go to your family to celebrate the New Year."

Watson said sincerely, handing Sherlock a box of rather exquisitely packaged pastries. "These are what I was planning to buy for the New Year. As a token of my gratitude for saving me... please take this home."

"Don't worry about losing face if you write a letter saying you won't be going home for the New Year and then suddenly go back. As long as they are your family, they definitely won't care about such things. Bring these snacks home, and your family will be very happy."

Watson even used the word "family" instead of "parents" to be very conservative. This was because he didn't know if Mr. Arthur Conan Doyle's parents were still alive, and he was afraid of inadvertently touching on a sensitive topic.

Although there are always many loopholes in the reasoning, the consideration of human relationships and social interactions is very comprehensive.

"You're really not a good spy, much less a good detective," Sherlock thought to himself.

He didn't go home, partly because of his strained relationship with his family... but the bigger reason was his current childlike state, which would be complicated to explain, and he didn't like explaining. It wasn't about the letters at all.

Watson was completely oblivious to the incongruity about him, let alone seeing through his clumsy, barely concealed disguise. No wonder, as a spy, he received the full protection of the Inspectorate.

... But as a friend, this idiot is someone I can get along with.

Mr. Watson was an incompetent spy, but a good man.

Sherlock glanced at him, and finally sighed helplessly, "Alright... but I must solemnly remind you both that I am not homeless. I am not hated to that extent, at least I still have a place to go for the New Year."

For example, to Bishop Mathers's house. Sherlock added in his mind.

He should be able to take me in... I guess.

After Watson mentioned it, Sherlock had a new idea in his mind—

He wanted to know if his parents could recognize that he had shrunk.

"Well then," Sherlock pulled his hat down again, "Goodbye... I'm going home."