An Honored Guest Arrives

"Good evening, everyone. I'm so sorry-the door said to come straight up."

"Oh! Molly! Good evening." "Merry Christmas, Molly."

Another guest had arrived, and greetings rang out one after another in the warm living room. Sherlock couldn't stand it and remarked cuttingly that everyone's pleasantries were "a bit too friendly."

"Let me hang up your coat. Oh, my goodness," Watson said, taking Molly's coat and scarf. When he saw how carefully she had dressed, he couldn't help exclaiming, "You look beautiful in that dress!"

Lestrade and Sitangna stared. Miss Molly wore a white coat all year round, and her usual attire was simple too. Tonight, though, she had shed her plain style and looked positively dazzling, a delightful surprise to everyone.

Molly wore a black velvet dress with spaghetti straps, its neckline trimmed with a two-finger-wide band of sequins. With her carefully styled hair, makeup, and sparkling earrings, everyone knew perfectly well who she had come for tonight.

"Come warm yourself by the fire, little Molly. Don't stand in the doorway, or you'll catch a cold." Mrs. Hudson and Janet generously made room for her by the fireplace.

"Are we having Christmas drinks now?" Molly rarely wore dresses in front of everyone. She looked at Sherlock shyly, with a hint of hidden affection.

"Obviously. No one's stopping you." Seeing everyone gathered around chatting in lively groups, Sherlock sat down at the computer and read Watson's blog. "John, your blog's still at 1,895 hits."

"Don't say that. Now I'm not even in the mood for Christmas, damn!" Frustrated by the lack of progress in his writing, Watson downed a mouthful of beer.

Clatter, clatter. A jumble of noisy footsteps sounded downstairs. Everyone craned their necks to look. Emily had arrived, with a whole crowd of bodyguards behind her, carrying something large and bulky.

"Oh! I'm not late, am I, everyone? I just escaped from a family dinner. Good lord, those people actually dared to set me up on a blind date! They wasted so much of my time."

As soon as Emily came upstairs, she gave Sitangna a bear hug. Under her fox-fur coat, she wore a custom-made champagne-colored gown. It was obvious she had just come from a party, and she looked incomparably beautiful and elegant.

"Of course not. What are they carrying up behind you? A present?" Everyone was curious about the object covered in black cloth.

"A Christmas present for you. Have a guess." Emily winked playfully. Sitangna racked her brains and named several things, but didn't guess a single one correctly.

"Is the thing really as big as this whole crate? I don't think there's room in my attic. Let's put it here." Everyone worked together to move the table and bookcases, successfully clearing an open space.

"A piano." Sherlock, who didn't want to move the table, swept the dust out of the corner with a broom.

"The great detective really is impressive. Congratulations, you guessed right!" Emily snapped her fingers and told the bodyguards to put it in place and head back. She was staying the night and would sleep with Sitangna.

"Really? What made you suddenly decide to give me a piano?" At Emily's urging, Sitangna opened the crate and lifted the black velvet cloth covering the piano.

"A Yamaha SU7, my goodness-the top of the line among upright pianos!" Janet was a piano enthusiast too, and recognized the model at a glance.

"The SU7 has six unevenly spaced back posts, a sand-cast iron plate, and duplex scaling. Its factory price is around 25,000 euros. Judging by its condition, this one's a few years old. The older an old piano gets, the richer its sound and the better its resonance. I'd say this one is worth 30,000 euros."

Janet explained to everyone as she helped Sitangna remove the protective fittings. She happened to know these things.

"HOW much? Thirty thousand euros??" Poor Watson's eyes went wide as saucers.

Mrs. Hudson had only learned that day that Nana liked pianos, and by evening a friend had given her one. She was happy for her from the bottom of her heart. "That expensive! Emily, you've spent far too much."

"Thirty thousand euros. Goodness, I don't even make that much in a whole year." Inspector Lestrade gazed at the all-black piano in a daze.

"It's too valuable. I can't accept it. Have your bodyguards carry it back." Thirty thousand euros was as much as three hundred thousand yuan. Sitangna was deeply touched, but she couldn't accept it.

"Carry it back? I didn't buy it specially, so don't feel burdened." Emily put an arm around Sitangna's shoulders. The girl couldn't resist running her hands over the piano a couple of times; she seemed to like it very much.

"Someone gave it to me before, but I have a grand piano at home, so this one's just been gathering dust in storage. You play so well that I thought it would be better to put it to the best possible use."

It was in Chinese people's nature to be unwilling to accept gifts they couldn't repay. In the end, everyone joined Emily in persuading Sitangna, and only after a great deal of coaxing did she agree to keep the piano.

Seeing that Sitangna had finally accepted her gift, Emily urged her to play another piece. The pipe organ performance that day had been like a miracle bestowed by an angel, and it was etched deep in her heart.

"All right. I'll find some sheet music first, then play a couple of pieces for everyone." Sitangna indulgently agreed to Emily's request and asked Candy to help her find two piano pieces suited to the occasion.

"Only on this one day of the year are these two so nice to me, but even so, it's worth it." Now that everyone was present, Mrs. Hudson raised her glass with them to celebrate her happy moment.

"Wait, there's another guest arriving soon." Suddenly remembering that she had invited an honored guest, Sitangna hurriedly called a halt to the Christmas drinks.

"Who else? A secret guest?" Watson and the others hadn't heard a word about it. Sitangna had only mentioned it now; she had done an excellent job keeping it secret.

"Please don't let it be who I think..." Sherlock had already guessed the right answer. Sometimes he felt quite helpless about how quickly his brain worked.

"Good evening, colleagues of Baker Street."

Speak of the devil. Mycroft made his dazzling entrance in a suit and leather shoes, an umbrella in his hand.

The two brothers really were in sync, each dressed in a sharp suit. The Christmas tradition was actually to wear a pullover-the kind of thick, ugly-cute patterned sweater Watson and Sitangna had on.

Of course, they were also the only two sticklers in the whole room wearing them. Everyone else had put on their favorite, best-looking clothes.

"Good evening, dear Mr. Mycroft."

"Oh! It's Mycroft. Come in, come in."

"Right on time. Come join our little drinks party!" Emily brought him a glass of champagne. Those people at the top all liked drinking it.

"Merry Christmas!" Nine different glasses formed a circle by the fireplace as everyone celebrated the rare holiday together.

Christmas Eve was the equivalent of New Year's Eve back in China, just as important as Christmas itself, so people wished one another a merry Christmas on this day too.