Chapter 5 Chapter Four

When Roger asked Holmes how he got two Japanese bees, Holmes stroked his beard gently - after a moment of thought, he talked about an apiary he found in the center of Tokyo: It was luck - if I had gone in the car with my luggage, I wouldn't have seen the place, but I was stranded at sea for too long and wanted to walk for exercise." "Have you traveled far?" "Supposedly--yes, I'm sure I've traveled quite a distance--but I can't remember the exact distance." They sat facing each other in the study.Holmes was leaning back in his chair with a glass of brandy, while Roger leaned forward holding the bee bottle in both hands.

"You see, that day was really suitable for a walk. The weather was very nice and comfortable. I can't wait to see the whole city—" Holmes was in a relaxed state. He stared at the boy while recalling his That morning in Tokyo.Of course, there are some embarrassing details that he won't share.For example, he got lost while looking for a train station in the Shinjuku business district, and his normally unmistakable sense of direction was completely lost as he navigated the narrow streets.And there was no need to tell the boy that he had almost missed the train to the port of Kobe.And, before he found solace in the tranquility of an apiary, he had seen postwar Japanese society at its worst: men and women crammed into makeshift shantytowns, shipping containers and tin huts in the busiest city centers where housewives with children on their backs lined up to buy rice and sweet potatoes; people squeezed into airtight carriages or sat on the roof, desperately holding on to the railings so as not to fall off; countless hungry Asian faces in Passing by Holmes on the street, their greedy eyes would occasionally glance at the disoriented Englishman walking among them (he could only move forward with two crutches, and his long hair and beard hid his eyes). The flustered expression below is unpredictable).

In the end, all Roger knew was Holmes' encounter with the city bee, but the boy was fascinated by what he heard.On his docile face, two big blue eyes were round and round, and his eyes never turned away from Holmes for a moment, they just stared firmly at his calm and thoughtful eyes, as if in a distant and blurred place. On the horizon, there was a flicker of light, a glimpse of something fleeting but beyond his reach.In turn, the piercing gray eyes focused on Roger were penetrating and friendly, and they struggled to bridge the age gap between the two, while the brandy was slowly drank and the small carafe While being held warmer and warmer by the soft hands, Holmes' vicissitudes of voice made Roger feel much older and more mature than his actual age.

Holmes said that as he got closer to downtown Shinjuku, his attention was drawn to the increasing number of worker bees foraging, buzzing around narrow flowerbeds under trees along the street and flower pots outside residential buildings fly.Holmes decided to follow their tracks, and although he occasionally lost one, he soon found another one, and in this way, he was taken to an oasis in the center of the city.He counted that there should be twenty colonies in all, each capable of producing a considerable amount of honey each year.He couldn't help thinking, how clever these little animals are.They live in the Shinjuku area, and the location where they collect nectar will definitely change with the seasons.They may fly great distances in September when the flowers are scarce, and much shorter distances in the spring and autumn when the flowers are in full bloom—and their food is especially plentiful in April, when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom.He told Roger that the great thing about bees is that the shorter the distance a bee colony travels to collect nectar, the more efficient they will be—in cities, the number of pollinating insects such as hoverflies, flies, butterflies, beetles, etc. Fewer, and therefore less competition between them and the bees for nectar and pollen—apparently easier to find a suitable food source in the surrounding areas of Tokyo than in the outer suburbs.

But he never answered Roger's initial question about the Japanese bee (the child didn't press it out of politeness).It wasn't that Holmes had forgotten the question, it was just that he couldn't remember the answer for a while, just like the other party's name was clearly on his lips but he couldn't say it.Yes, he had brought those bees back from Japan; yes, they were indeed a present for the boy.But he can't remember exactly how he got them: maybe at the bee farm in Tokyo (which is unlikely, since all he could think about was finding the train station quickly), or maybe it was between him and During Mr. Meiqi's trip (they did go to many places together after they arrived in Kobe).He worries that this apparent memory gap is the result of changes in the prefrontal cortex caused by aging. Otherwise, how to explain that some memories are intact while others are severely damaged?It is also strange that he still remembers very vividly some fragments of his childhood, such as the morning when he walked into the fencing salon of the teacher Alphonse Benzing (the sturdy French man touched his bushy, military-looking beard, looking warily at the tall and shy boy standing before him); but now, when he sometimes took out his pocket watch to check the time, he could not remember what he had done in the previous few hours.

However, he still believes that although some memories have been lost, most of them still exist.For many nights after his return, he sat at his desk in the attic—either continuing his unfinished classic ("The Art of Detective"), or revising the thirty-seven-year-old "The Art of Detective" A Practical Guide to Bee Breeding, in preparation for a reprint by Beecher Thompson—but his thoughts kept going uncontrollably back in time.So, it is quite possible that while he was writing, he found himself back in Japan, standing on the platform in Kobe after a long train journey, waiting, looking for Mr. Meiqi, and looking around. The crowd—a few American officers and soldiers among the Japanese natives, businessmen, and families traveling together; voices and quick footsteps echoed from the platform into the night.

"Mr. Sherlock?" A slender man in a bonnet, white cardigan, shorts, and tennis shoes came to Holmes as if out of nowhere.He was accompanied by another man, younger but identically dressed.Both stared at him through spectacles framed with gold wires. The older one—Holmes guessed he was about fifty-five years old, but it is difficult to determine the age of Asians—walked up to Holmes, One bowed; the other was snap-did too. "I guess, you must be Mr. Mei Qi." "Exactly, sir," said the older one, still bowing, "welcome to Japan, welcome to Kobe. It is our honor to meet you, and it is an even greater honor to entertain you in our home .”

Although Mr. Mei Qi has shown his proficiency in English in the letter, when he spoke, the English with a British accent still surprised Holmes, which shows that he has been educated abroad in Japan. good education.All that Holmes knew of him, however, was limited to their shared love of rattan pepper.It was this common interest that initiated their long correspondence (Megge first wrote to Holmes after reading a monograph he had published many years before, entitled "On The value of royal jelly and the health benefits of rattan pepper").However, since Fujisan pepper mainly grows only in the seaside of Japan, where it originated, Holmes has never had the opportunity to see it with his own eyes, let alone taste the dishes made with it.When he was young, he missed many opportunities to travel to Japan.So when Mr. Mei Qi invited him to Japan, he realized that if he didn't seize this opportunity, he might not have time to see those beautiful gardens that he had only read about in books. Never in his life had he had the chance to look at and taste the amazing plant that had fascinated him for so many years; he had always believed that sansan pepper, like his beloved royal jelly, had unique properties that prolong life.

"It's an honor for me, too." "You are too polite," Mr. Mei Qi straightened up, "Sir, please let me introduce you to my younger brother—Kinsui Lang." Kensui Lang was still bowing, eyes half-closed: "Sir——hello, you are a very great detective, very great—" "Your name is Kensuirou, right?" "Thank you, sir, thank you—you are a very great—" Suddenly, Holmes felt that the two brothers were very strange: one could speak English easily, but the other could barely speak English.Soon they were leaving the railway station together, when Holmes noticed that his brother's hips twisted strangely as he walked, as if the luggage he was carrying now gave him a feminine swaying figure somehow, but Holmes It is determined that this is just his natural habit, not a deliberate imitation (after all, the luggage is not so heavy).Finally, when they finally reached the tram stop, Kensuiro put down his luggage and took out a pack of cigarettes: "Sir?"

"Thank you." Holmes took out a cigarette and put it to his mouth.Under the street lamp, Jianshuilang lit a match and blocked the wind with his palm.As Holmes bent over the match, he saw that the slender hands were speckled with red paint, the skin was smooth, the fingernails were carefully trimmed, but the edges were dirty (from which he deduced that the It should be a pair of artist's hands, the artist's fingernails).He sipped his cigarette carefully and looked towards the dark street. In the distance, there were many people wandering around a neighborhood with neon lights.I don't know where jazz is playing. Although the music is faint, it is very cheerful.During the interval of puffing, Holmes also smelled the smell of burnt meat.

"I guess you must be hungry," said Mr. Mayge.He had been walking silently beside Holmes since they left the station. "Indeed," said Holmes, "very tired." "In this case, please settle down at home first—if you have no objections, let's have dinner at home tonight." "very good." Kensuiro started talking to Mr. Meiqi, but in Japanese.His thin hands gesticulated frantically, touching his hat for a while, and making small teeth in the shape of his mouth for a while-the cigarette in his mouth was already crumbling.After Kensuirou finished speaking, he showed a big smile to Holmes, nodded and bowed slightly. "He wanted to know if you had brought your famous hat," said Mr. Mayge, looking a little embarrassed. "I think it's called a deerstalker. And your big pipe--you brought Yet?" Kensuirou was still nodding, pointing at his bonnet and the cigarette in his mouth. "No, no," answered Holmes. "I am afraid I have never worn a deer cap of any kind, nor smoked a pipe of that kind. I suppose it was just a writer's intention to distinguish me, and to sell more books." , I wrote it with added oil and vinegar. In terms of writing, I don't have much say." "Oh." Mr. Mei Qi had a disillusioned expression on his face, and when he relayed this answer to Kensuiro, Kensuiro showed the same expression (brother bowed quickly, see Looks a little ashamed). "Really, there's no need for that." Holmes was used to being asked such questions, and, to tell the truth, he often found a wicked satisfaction in debunking rumors. "Tell him it's okay, it's really okay." "We didn't expect it at all." Mr. Mei Qi explained, and hurried to comfort Jianshuilang. "Few would think of that," said Holmes in a low voice, exhaling a puff of smoke. Soon the trolley came, clanging towards them from the neon sign, and Kensui picked up his luggage, and Holmes found himself looking out into the street again. "Did you hear the music?" he asked Mr. Mayge. “I hear it. I hear it a lot, sometimes all night long. Kobe doesn’t have a lot of tourist attractions, so we make up for it with great nightlife.” "Really." Holmes squinted his eyes, trying to see the brightly lit nightclubs and bars in the distance, but he still couldn't see them (the tram was getting closer and closer, and the loud noise completely covered up the music).In the end, he found that the tram he was on was getting further and further away from the neon lights, passing through an area full of closed shops, empty sidewalks and dark street corners.A few seconds later, the tram entered a ruins that had been burned and ravaged during the war—a desolate land devoid of street lights, only the crumbling silhouettes of buildings illuminated by the full moon over the city. At this moment, it seemed that the deserted streets of Kobe had deepened Holmes' fatigue. He gradually closed his eyes and collapsed on the tram seat.This long day finally made him unable to hold on, and after a few minutes, his remaining strength was only enough to wake him up from his seat, and barely climbed a section of the mountain road (Jian Shuilang walked in front, Mr. holding his arm).He tapped the ground with his cane, and the warm sea breeze from the sea brought a salty taste.Breathing the night air, he seemed to see Sussex and the small farm he nicknamed "The Castle of Silence" (which he once wrote to his brother Mycroft as "Let me A Place of Peace and Peace"), and the cliff-hanging coastline from the attic study window.He wanted to sleep so much, he only saw the tidy bedroom at home and the sheets that had already been lifted on the bed. "It's almost here," said Mr. Meiqi, "and what is in front of you now is my inheritance." Ahead, at the end of the street, there is a distinctive two-story building, which seems so out of place in this village full of traditional Japanese houses.The house was clearly Victorian - painted red, surrounded by a pointed fence, with a front yard resembling a small English garden.Although it was pitch black around the house, an ornate glass lamp illuminated the wide porch and made the house look like a beacon against the night sky.But Holmes was too tired to comment, not even to say anything as he followed Kensui into the foyer festooned with emerging works of art and glass. "We collected works by Riley, Tiffany, Galle, and many others." Mr. Mayge led him on. "I can see that." Holmes pretended to be interested.From then on, he began to feel light, like floating in a long and boring dream.In hindsight, he had no recollection of that first night in Kobe—what he had for dinner, what they talked about, how he was taken to his room, not even the sullen-faced He also forgot all about Maya's woman, although she brought him dinner and drinks and apparently unpacked for him. The next morning, she came again.She drew back the curtains and woke Holmes.Her appearance didn't surprise him. When they met before, he was only in a semi-conscious state, but he still reacted immediately. Although this face was cold, it was familiar after all.Is she Mrs. Mayge's wife?Perhaps, thought Holmes, the butler?She was wearing a Japanese kimono and her gray hair was styled in a Western style.She looked older than Kensui Lang, but not much older than Mr. Mei Qi.She was not an attractive woman, rather ordinary-looking, with a round head, a snub nose, and eyes with two slits slanted, like a short-sighted mole.He concluded that she must be the housekeeper, without a doubt. "Good morning." He lay on the pillow looking at her and muttered.She ignored him, but just opened the window and let the sea breeze blow in.She then left the room, only to re-enter shortly thereafter with a tray containing a steaming cup of breakfast tea and a handwritten note from Mr. Mei Qi.As she put the tray on the bedside table, he blurted out "good morning" in Japanese, one of the few words he knew.But she still ignored him. This time, she walked into the next bathroom and turned on the bath water for him.He sat up annoyed, drinking tea while looking at the note: He said "good morning" to himself in Japanese, feeling a little disappointed and worried, fearing that his arrival would disturb the order of the house (or, when Mr. Mei Qi invited him, he never expected that he would be invited, and Or Mr. Mei Qi was disappointed when he found only an old man with limited mobility waiting at the station).Holmes felt relieved when Maya left the room, but his mood became gloomy at the thought of spending a whole day with Kensui Lang, who had difficulty communicating. Wait, you can only use gestures to compare pictures.It is impossible for him to visit Kobe alone. If the host finds him sneaking out alone, it will be a humiliation to the host.He started to take a shower, feeling more and more uneasy.Although by most people's standards he is a man of the world, he has lived in seclusion in Sussex for almost half his life, and now, in a completely strange country, there is not even a fluent speaker around him. There are no English-speaking tour guides, so he can't help but feel at a loss. But after getting dressed and meeting Jianshuilang downstairs, his worries disappeared. "Morning-morning-good, sir." Jianshuilang smiled and stammered. "Good morning." "Ah, yes, good morning—well, very good." Holmes then ate a simple breakfast of green tea and rice with raw eggs.As he ate, Kensuiro nodded repeatedly in praise of his skillful use of chopsticks.Before noon, they were out walking together, enjoying the fine weather under the clear blue sky.Kensui Lang, like little Roger, has been supporting Holmes' arm and guiding him forward.But Holmes regained his vitality after a good night's sleep and a shower. He felt a brand new self experiencing everything in Japan.Kobe in the daytime was nothing like the desolate place he saw from the tram window at night (destroyed buildings disappeared, the streets were full of people walking).Vendors occupy the central square, and children run around happily.The sound of chatting and boiling water can be heard from countless noodle shops.On the hills to the north of the city, he also glimpsed a whole cluster of Victorian and Gothic homes that he thought might have originally belonged to foreign merchants and diplomats. "May I ask you, what does your brother do, Kensuiro?" "gentlemen--" "Your brother—what does he do—his work?" "This—no—I don't understand, I only understand a little, I don't understand a lot." "Thank you, Kensuiro." "Yes, thank you—thank you very much." "The weather is so good today. Although you can't speak a few words of English, I am still very happy to have you by my side." "I agree." But as they went further and further, through street corners and busy streets, Holmes began to notice signs of famine everywhere.In the park, the shirtless children did not run around like other children, but stood dully, with haggard faces and skinny bodies.Beggars are begging in front of the noodle shop, and even those who seem well-fed—for example, the noodle shop owner, customers, and lovers—have the same eager expression, but it is not so obvious.It seemed to Holmes that beneath the surface of everyday life these people concealed a silent desperation: behind the smiles, nods, bows, and civility hid something else malnourished.