She Had Left Her Ordinary, Uneventful Life Behind (Part 2)

"They had a huge fight over the phone in front of me, each accusing the other of not caring about me. That day, I went back to school in disgrace under my stepmother's hostile gaze. I can't remember the journey anymore. I only remember that once I got back to school, I pathetically hid under my blanket and cried my heart out."

Sitangna laughed to herself at the embarrassing memory, while Mrs. Hudson hugged her, tears streaming down her face in sympathy. She had never imagined that her seemingly cheerful, optimistic young niece had such a heartbreaking life at home.

All she had known was that her distant relative in that faraway country was a locally renowned entrepreneur. She had assumed that someone as lovable as Nana must have grown up surrounded by love and money.

"I'm all right, Auntie. It's all in the past. Later, I developed the reckless personality I have now. I thrived in adversity, and I never admit defeat, no matter what."

Sitangna raised a tightly clenched fist. In her previous life, she and a great many other netizens had called themselves little rats in the gutter. Everyone had their own difficulties, but none of them would admit defeat or give up. So what if they were rats? They could still make their own lives happy and fulfilling.

This character's background was modeled on the course of Tangna's life. Sitangna was now a doctoral student in the sciences, and her status as an exchange student at the University of Cambridge was also one of Tangna's countless possibilities.

She even turned around and comforted Aunt Hudson. "I'm already better off than many people, living without having to worry about food or clothing."

The father of her mission character had given her a large extra sum of pocket money, but that belonged to the present Sitangna. Tangna had never received the slightest bit of attention from her biological parents.

She had even disappeared without a sound on the night the meteor fell, and no one knew.

"Happiness isn't determined by comparison, but few people refrain from making comparisons." Sherlock watched the bubbles dissipate in his glass and took a sip.

"Parents are products of their genes and environment. Their behavior patterns can be traced; they aren't directed at you personally. Those who blame it on 'fate' or 'misfortune' are lazy."

"If you feel pain because of it, that's good. At least it proves your nervous system is functioning normally. But dwelling on it is a very inefficient way to improve yourself. Fortunately, you were able to work through your predicament yourself, rather than being a fool who blames everyone and everything."

"Hey, Sherlock, can you speak like a normal person, or else shut your mouth?" Tears had glistened in Watson's eyes too, but just as they were about to fall, Sherlock's few "words of wisdom on staying alive" abruptly interrupted him.

Sherlock shrugged helplessly, saying he was only telling the truth.

Remembering Sherlock's cutting remarks to everyone on Christmas Eve in the show, Sitangna felt sorry for Molly and the inspector in advance. Taking up Watson's complaint, she reminded Sherlock that when he shouldn't speak, he absolutely, positively had to keep his little mouth shut.

The heartfelt conversation continued until dinnertime. Only then did everyone get up to prepare desserts for the evening's gathering, since they weren't eating dinner on Christmas Eve.

There was a pitch-black Christmas pudding, stuffed with raisins, currants, and all kinds of berries, sitting in a shallow layer of brandy. It would be set alight with alcohol when they shared it that evening.

There were also some Christmas meat pies, the candy apples Sitangna had made again, and the highlight everyone was looking forward to most: lemon Basque cheesecake!

Ever since the three empty nesters of Baker Street had tasted Sitangna's cooking last time, they had specifically asked her to make it again for Christmas. Since Emily happened to be coming, she had made a large one today, a full ten inches across.

Time ticked by, and Christmas Eve began to the sound of Sherlock's violin. A classic rendition of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" rang throughout the room, and Mrs. Hudson's eyes crinkled with delight.

"When Sherlock plays seriously, he's positively masterful." Just as Watson finished praising Sherlock, his girlfriend Janet Jessie arrived, carrying a plate piled high with meat pies she had made herself. They looked very appetizing.

"Thank you for the effort, Janet. I hope you enjoy yourself here tonight. I can't wait to have one." Sitangna covered Sherlock's mouth just as he was about to shoot a poison dart and struck up a friendly conversation with Watson's new girlfriend.

It seemed Watson had managed to save his precarious relationship that night after all. How would Mary enter the picture later? Never mind, she would focus on the present.

"Hello, Nana. I often hear John mention you. He always says you're clever and lively, but he never told me you were such a pretty girl." Appreciation of beauty was human nature. The two beautiful women each thought the other was exactly to her taste, and immediately abandoned the smelly men to chat arm in arm.

"So that's your new girlfriend, the boring teacher?" After finishing his performance, Sherlock put away his violin.

"Yes. Thank heaven you didn't undermine me in front of her today." Watson had nearly died of fright when he saw Sherlock about to speak. "God bless you, and Nana bless you. We've only been dating for less than two weeks."

Few people could withstand his attacks. Sitangna was one of them, and she usually stopped him physically. Others had tried to physically stop his verbal attacks in their anger and embarrassment, but the man was quite nimble. Of everyone Watson had seen, only Nana could get close to him.

"Mm-hmm." Sherlock neither agreed nor disagreed, rubbing rosin on his bow.

"Merry Christmas! I hope I'm not late." It was Inspector Lestrade, who had arrived safely carrying a great pile of gifts. Though Sherlock didn't acknowledge him as an old friend, he was certainly one of those who could overlook Sherlock's difficult ways and stick by him.

"Good evening, Inspector. It isn't raining outside, is it?" Some guests had yet to arrive, and Mrs. Hudson was constantly concerned about the weather outside.

"Good evening, Mrs. Hudson. It's neither raining nor snowing outside." "That's good." After exchanging greetings with everyone, he accepted the glass Watson handed him, and they gently clinked glasses to celebrate the grand holiday together.

"Merry Christmas, Inspector! Quick, try a candy apple I made!" The candy apples were so delicious that Janet, who wasn't particularly fond of sweets, had promptly finished a whole one. Sitangna was even more confident in her cooking.

"What's in these, apples? They look delicious. I'll help myself first." After distributing the gifts, Lestrade immediately picked up a small plate and took a bite. Wow, what a remarkable texture: the thin, crisp sugar coating mingled with the fragrance of the fruit, pleasantly sweet without being cloying.

"These are delicious. Can I take one home for my daughter?" The inspector was going to his wife's home early the next morning to spend Christmas with her, and his daughter would probably like this delicious little treat.

"Of course. I made plenty. I'll put one in a box for you; remember to take it before you leave." Afraid there wouldn't be enough for everyone, Sitangna had made more than ten in one go, using up all the maple sugar and white sugar in the kitchen.