Chapter 20 Chapter Nineteen

Beside the apiary—and then somewhere else: the sun grew stronger, the cloudy summer morning retreated to the windy spring, and he came to another beach, another distant land.Yamaguchi Prefecture is located at the westernmost tip of Honshu Island, facing Kyushu Island across a narrow strait.When Holmes and Mr. Mayki (both in gray kimonos, seated at a table overlooking the garden) sat down on tatami mats, the round-faced innkeeper greeted them good morning in Japanese.They stayed at a traditional ryokan in Shimonoseki, where the owner lent each guest a kimono and, upon request, had the opportunity to dine with food that the locals used to satisfy their hunger during famines (various soups , rice balls, and dishes using carp as the main raw material, etc.).

The proprietress walked from the breakfast room to the kitchen, and returned from the kitchen to the breakfast room with the tray.She was a fat woman with a bulging belly under her belt, and the tatami mats on the floor shook as she approached.Mr. Mei Qi asked loudly, how could she grow so fat when the country was so short of food.But she just kept bowing to the guests and didn't understand Mei Qi's English. She was like an overfed, docile and obedient dog, constantly going in and out of the breakfast room.After the dishes and the steaming food were all set on the table, Mr. Mei Qi wiped his glasses, put them on again, and reached out for the chopsticks.Holmes carefully picked up his chopsticks as he studied his breakfast--he had not slept soundly all night, and was yawning now (the gale without direction blew until dawn, shaking the walls and making a terrible whimpering sound that made He is always half asleep).

"If you don't mind, can you tell me what you dreamed about at night?" Mei Qi asked suddenly, picking up a rice ball. "What do I dream about at night? I'm sure I don't dream at night." "How is that possible? You must dream sometimes too. Doesn't everyone dream?" "I did have dreams when I was young, I'm sure of that. I can't say when I stopped dreaming, maybe after puberty, or later. Anyway, even if I had Had dreams, and I don't remember any details at all. Hallucinations are only more useful to artists and theists, don't you think? For people like me, they're completely unreliable and troublesome."

"I have read in books that some people claim that they never dream, but I don't believe it. I think they may suppress themselves for some reason." "Well, if I do have dreams, then I'm used to ignoring them. Let me ask you now, my friend, what happens to your mind at night?" "A lot of things. You see, it may be very specific things, such as the places I have been to, the faces I see every day, the most ordinary scenes; sometimes, it may be distant and disturbing situations, such as my childhood, friends who have passed away, people I knew well but who were nothing like them. Sometimes I wake up in a daze, not knowing where I am or what Seeing something — in that moment, I was caught between reality and imagination, even if it was only for a short moment.”

"I know that feeling." Holmes smiled and looked out of the window.In the garden outside the breakfast room, red and yellow chrysanthemums sway gently in the breeze. "I see my dreams as frayed fragments of memory." Mr. Mei Qi said, "memory itself is like the fabric of a person's life, and I think of dreams as loose threads representing the past, where it connects to the fabric It's a bit torn, but it's still part of the fabric. Maybe that's a weird analogy, I don't know. But don't you think dreams are a kind of memory, an abstraction from the past?"

Holmes continued to look out of the window, and it took a while before he said: "Yes, this analogy is a bit strange. As far as my situation is concerned, I have been constantly changing and renewing for ninety-three years, so what you said is There should be a lot of loose threads here, but I can say with great certainty that I don’t dream. Or, the fabric in my memory is very strong—according to what you said, I’m probably lost in time In any case, I do not believe that dreams are abstractions of the past. They may be symbols of our inner fears and desires, as that Austrian doctor was fond of saying." Holmes took a slice from the bowl with his chopsticks. Pickled cucumbers, Mei Qi watched as he carefully brought the cucumbers to her mouth.

"Fears and desires," said Meggie, "are also products of the past. We just carry them with us. Dreams are so much more than that, aren't they? In dreams, don't we seem to go to another place, enter the Another world? And that world was created out of our experiences in this world." "I don't understand you at all." "So, what are your fears and desires? I have many of my own." Meggie paused to wait for Holmes' answer, but Holmes did not respond.He just stared intently at the plate of pickles in front of him with a deeply troubled expression on his face.No, he won't answer that question, he won't talk about his fears and desires, which are sometimes the same: a constant buildup of forgetfulness that can even make him gasp in his sleep. He was out of breath, waking up with a start—familiarity and safety took him away, leaving him helpless and breathing hard; but forgetfulness also suppressed his desperate thoughts, making him temporarily forget about those he would never see again— Trapping him in the here and now with everything he could possibly want or need close at hand.

"Forgive me," Mei Qi said, "I didn't mean to pry into your privacy. After I went to see you last night, we should have a talk, but it didn't feel like the timing was right." Holmes put down his chopsticks, picked up two slices of cucumber from the bowl with his fingers, and ate them.After eating, he wiped his fingers on the kimono: "My dear Minmu, do you suspect that I dreamed about your father last night? That's why you ask me these questions?" "Not quite." "Or did you dream about him yourself? Now, in this roundabout way, you wish to tell me what you dreamed about at breakfast?"

"I did dream about him, yes, but it was a long time ago." "I see," said Holmes. "Then tell me, what does it all matter?" "I'm sorry," Mei Qi lowered her head, "I apologize." Holmes realized that he had no need to be so pointed, but it did tire him to be continually pressed with a question to which he did not know the answer.Besides, when he couldn't sleep well last night, Mei Qi entered his room and knelt beside his futon, which made him very unhappy.At that time, he was awakened by the sound of the wind, the mournful whining against the window, and the figure of a man in the dark made him breathless with fright (he was like a black cloud, floating above his head, and asked in a low voice: "Are you all right? Tell me, what—"), but Holmes could not speak at all, nor could he move his limbs.At that time, it was really difficult for him to remember where he was, and he couldn't recognize who the voice speaking in the dark was. "Sherlock, what is it? You can tell me—"

It wasn't until Mei Qi left that Holmes regained consciousness.Mei Qi left quietly, he opened the sliding door between the two rooms, and then closed it again.Holmes lay on his side, listening to the plaintive wind.He touched the tatami under the futon, pressed it with his fingertips, and closed his eyes again. He remembered what Mei Qi asked, and then realized his meaning: Tell me, what is it?You can tell me—indeed, though Meggie had been talking about how happy their trip together was, Holmes knew that he was determined to find out something about his missing father, even if it meant finding out something about his missing father. Keep watch at Holmes' bedside all night (otherwise why would he break into the room, why should he have to come in?).Sherlock Holmes has questioned people in his dreams in a similar fashion - thieves, opium addicts, murder suspects, etc. Sex often surprises criminals themselves).Therefore, he is not disgusted with this method, but he still hopes that Mei Qi will stop pursuing the mystery of her father, at least, before the end of their journey, she can put it aside for a while.

Holmes wanted to tell him that all these things were long past, and that it was useless to continue to worry about them now.There may be legitimate reasons for Matsuda to leave Japan, perhaps for the sake of his family.But even so, he also understood that his father's absence from Mei Qi's side made this man feel that his life was incomplete.Holmes thought a lot that night, but it never occurred to him that Meggie's search was futile.On the contrary, he has always believed that the mysteries of a person's life are worth his tireless efforts to investigate.In the case of Matsuda, Holmes knew that, if he might have provided any clues, those clues had been destroyed in the fireplace decades ago.All he could think about was Dr. Watson's burned diary, and finally he was exhausted, and soon his mind went blank.He was still lying on the futon, and he couldn't hear the wind outside, howling across the street and tearing the paper on the panes. "It is I who should apologize," Holmes said at breakfast, reaching out to pat Meggie's hand. "I didn't sleep very well last night. The weather may be the reason, or something else. It's even more uncomfortable." Mei Qi continued to lower her head and nodded: "I'm just a little worried, I seem to hear you yelling in my dream, that voice is so scary—" "Of course, of course," Holmes reassured him, "do you know that I was once wandering in the wilderness, and the whistling wind sounded like someone shouting or crying, or calling for help in the distance--in the wind and rain, It’s easy for people to mishear, but I’ll miss it myself, so don’t worry.” He smiled and drew back his hand, and turned to the bowl of pickled cucumbers. "Then do you think I heard wrong?" "Very likely, isn't it?" "Yes," Mei Qi raised her head with relief, "it is possible, I guess—" "Very well," said Holmes, lifting a slice of cucumber to his mouth. "That is the end of the matter. Why don't we start a new day? What are our plans this morning? Should we go for another walk by the sea? Or should we finish our trip?" The purpose—to find that rare vine sansho?" Mei Qi looked confused.Didn't they often discuss why Holmes came to Japan (want to taste the dishes made of rattan pepper and see the wild rattan pepper tree)?Didn't the very purpose of their trip lead them that night to an izakaya (the Japanese equivalent of a pub, as Holmes understood as soon as he stepped through the door) in a seaside village?In the izakaya, a large cauldron is steaming, and the proprietress is busy chopping fresh rattan pepper leaves.All the locals, drinking beer or sake, looked up as they walked in, some with obvious disbelief on their faces.Since Sherlock Holmes came to Japan, how many times has Mr. Meiqi mentioned a special cake sold in izakaya?It's made with roasted and ground fruit and vine pepper seeds, which are rubbed into flour for extra flavour.And how many times did they refer to letters that had been sent back and forth over the years?The content of the letter always talked about this slow-growing but possibly life-extending plant (grows best in places with a lot of salt, sunshine, strong winds and dryness), that is the rattan pepper that they were all interested in .How many times?Not once, it seems. The izakaya smelled of pepper and fish, and they sat at the table, sipping tea and listening to the din of conversation around them. "Those two are fishermen," Mei Qi said, "and they are arguing over a woman." At this moment, the boss opened the curtain of the back room and walked out.He smiled toothlessly, greeted each customer with a comically exaggerated tone, and shared a hearty laugh with acquaintances.Finally, he came to their table.He seemed amused when he saw an elderly English gentleman with a well-dressed fellow Japanese.He patted Meggie on the shoulder happily, and winked at Holmes as if they were close friends.He sat down at their table, looked at Holmes, and said something to Mr. Mayge in Japanese, which made everyone in the izakaya laugh, except Holmes. "what did he say?" "That's funny," Meggie told him. "He thanked me for bringing my father to his hotel. He said we were the same thing, but he thought you were more handsome than me." "I agree with the second part of his sentence," said Holmes. Mei Qi translated Holmes' words to the innkeeper again, who nodded and laughed loudly. Having finished his tea, Holmes said to Meggie: "I want to see what's cooking in that pot. Would you please ask our new friend? Could you tell him that I should like to see what the vine sansho What is cooked?" Mei Qi conveyed his request, and the owner stood up immediately. "He'd be happy to let you take a look," Mr. Mei Qi said, "but the person who cooks is his wife, and she can show you by herself." "Very good," said Holmes, standing up too. "Would you like to come along?" "I'll come—I'll finish my tea first." "This opportunity is rare, you know. Then I won't wait for you, I hope you don't mind." "No, I don't mind at all." Meggie said, but he stared at Holmes sharply, as if he had been abandoned. But soon, they all came to the cauldron, holding the leaves of rattan pepper in their hands, watching the proprietress stir the soup in the pot.Later, the proprietress told them that the vine sansho grows among the sand dunes closer to the sea. "Shall we go tomorrow morning?" Mei Qi said. "It's not too late to go now." "There is still a long way to go, Mr. Holmes." "How about a walk—at least until sunset?" "If you want to go, let's go." With curious eyes, they took one last look at the izakaya—the cauldron, the soup, the men holding the wine glasses—then they walked out of the shop, walked across the beach, and walked slowly into the dunes. .As dusk fell, they still didn't see any trace of Fuji Sanjiao, so they decided to go back to the hotel for dinner.Both were exhausted from the long walk, and after dinner, instead of going out for drinks as usual, they went to bed early.But this night—their second night in Xiaguan—Holmes woke up in the middle of the night. He tossed and turned, and couldn't sleep well.At first he was surprised that the howling wind the night before had disappeared.Then he recalled the scene that had been circling in his mind for a few minutes before going to bed: a humble izakaya by the sea, wisteria sansho leaves boiling in a big pot of carp soup.In the dim light, he lay under the covers, staring at the ceiling.After a while, he felt sleepy again and closed his eyes.But instead of falling into a deep sleep, he thought of the toothless izakaya owner—his name was Wakui.His humorous remarks once made Mei Qi so happy, and they made a very tasteless joke on the emperor ("Why is General MacArthur said to be Japan's belly button? Because he is on Japan's penis."). But what made Mei Qi happiest was telling Jiujing that Holmes was a joke of Mei Qi's father.That evening, when they were walking on the beach together, Mei Qi brought up this topic again, and he said: "It's strange to think about it, if my father is still alive, he should be about the same age as you." "Really?" Holmes looked at the dunes ahead, looking for the traces of vine sansho in the sandy soil. "How about you being my father in England?" Meggie suddenly and unexpectedly grabbed Holmes' arm, and when they walked forward, he still held it firmly, "He Jiujing is a very interesting guy, I want to go see him tomorrow." It was at this moment that Holmes realized that he had been chosen by Mei Qi to be Matsuda's substitute.Maybe he didn't mean it, but it's clear that under Mei Qi's mature and thoughtful appearance, there are still childhood traumas lurking.He repeated the joke with Hisui again and again, and held Holmes' hand tightly on the beach, everything could not be more obvious.The last time you heard from your father, thought Holmes, was when you first heard my name.Matsuda disappeared from your life, and I appeared in the form of a book—one replaced the other, that's all. So, with those letters with Asian postmarks, with sincere invitations after months of delightful correspondence, with travels across the Japanese countryside, with these days together—they were like one For the father and son, after years of estrangement, they quietly make up for the past.Even if Holmes couldn't give Maggie a definite answer, he traveled across the ocean to meet him, stayed in their house in Kobe, and finally embarked on a journey westward together, to the place where Maggie Matsuda had taken him when he was a child. The Hiroshima Landscape Garden, all this is enough to make Mei Qi feel relieved.Now, Holmes also discovered that Meggie had no interest in rattan pepper, royal jelly, or those things they had discussed in detail in their letters.This, he thought, was a simple seduction trick, but it was very effective—he carefully studied every topic he talked with me, wrote a lot in his letters, and after he tricked me into coming, he pretended to forget everything. On the way to the sand dunes, Holmes thought silently of Meggie and Roger.When Mei Qi held his arm tighter and tighter, he thought, these children who have lost their fathers at this age, their souls are still exploring alone. Unlike Mr. Mei Qi, Roger understood his father's fate. He firmly believed that although his father's death was a tragedy personally, it was full of heroism from a larger perspective.Mei Qi couldn't say such a thing, he could only rely on the old and frail Englishman in front of him to find the answer.He accompanied him to the sand dunes by the sea, tightly grasping his bony arms, not so much pulling him, but rather relying on him. "Shall we go back?" "Are you tired?" "No, I'm more worried about you." "I think we're pretty close, now go back—" "But it's getting dark—" Holmes opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to solve the problem.If you want to appease Mr. Mei Qi, you have to think in advance of an answer that can be false (he thought, just like Dr. Watson when he conceived the plot of the story, mixing things that have happened and things that have never happened) together, to create an undeniable conclusion): yes, he might have dealt with Matsuda; yes, he could explain Matsuda's disappearance.But he had to be well thought out.Where did they first meet?Perhaps introduced by Mycroft, in the drawing room of the Diogenes Club?But the reason for meeting? "Mycroft, if the art of detectives began and ended with just sitting in this room thinking, you'd be the best crime detective ever. But you obviously can't solve many practical problems, which are It's something that has to be researched before making a decision—that's why you've called me here again, I suppose." He pictured Mycroft sitting in the armchair.Next to him sat TR Lamont (or was it RT Ramon?)—a stern, grim, ambitious Polynesian, member of the London Missionary Society, who once lived on the island of Mangalia in the Pacific Ocean, and whose real identity was Secret Intelligence The agents of the agency, in the name of maintaining social morality, closely monitored the local residents.Later, in order to help New Zealand expand, the British authorities began to consider arranging Lamont (or Ramon) to a more important position, that is, as a British minister, negotiating with the chiefs on the Cook Islands, and paving the way for New Zealand to annex these islands . Or is he called JR Raben?No, no, Holmes remembered, his name was Lamont, definitely Lamont.Anyway, in 1898—or was it 1899, or was it 1897? ——Mycroft asked Holmes to make some comments on Lamont's character (brother wrote in the telegram: You know, I can also give good professional advice, but it is really not for me to observe the details of a person's true nature long term). "We have to have leverage in our hands," explained Mycroft, who was well aware of France's influence in Tahiti and the Society Islands. "Naturally, Queen Makia Tucker wants her island to be attached to our country, but our government is not willing to take over. On the other hand, the Prime Minister of New Zealand has made a firm stand, so we must help as much as possible. Mr. Lamont is very familiar with the local people and has a lot in common with them, so we believe that he will be very helpful to us in achieving our goals." Holmes glanced at the man on his brother's right, a small, inarticulate man (now staring under his spectacles, with a hat on his lap, who stood out against the huge Mycroft on his left. short). "Mycroft, who are you talking about besides you?" "Well, my dear Holmes, like the other matters I have mentioned, they are strictly confidential, and are not the present point. What we need now is your opinion of our colleague." "I see." But now Holmes saw that sitting next to Mycroft was not Lamont, nor Lamon or Raben, but the tall, slender-faced, goateed Umeki Matsuda.They met for the first time in the private drawing room, and Holmes could see almost at once that he was perfectly qualified for the position.From the archives that Mycroft gave him, Matsuda is obviously a very intelligent person (he wrote several famous books, one of which is about secret diplomacy), and quite capable as a special envoy (he served in the Japanese diplomatic The background of his ministry work can illustrate this point), and as a representative of the Anglophile faction, he has no illusions about his own country (he is willing to go from Japan to the Cook Islands or Europe whenever he is needed) . "Do you think he's right for the job?" Mycroft asked. "Very well," replied Holmes, smiling. "We think he is the perfect man." Matsuda, like Lamont, was wary of strategizing and carrying out various political activities-he would mediate in the annexation of the Cook Islands, and his family thought he was studying the constitution in London. "Good luck, sir," said Holmes after the questioning, shaking Matsuda's hand, "I am sure you will be able to complete the task successfully." They met again later—in the winter of 1902, or, perhaps, in early 1903 (two years or so after New Zealand began formally annexing the archipelago), when Matsuda approached Holmes about Niue. It is suggested that the island was originally in union with Samoa and the Kingdom of Tonga, but was occupied by New Zealand a year after New Zealand merged with the Cook Islands.Matsuda also now faces the choice of whether to accept another important post, but this time he is representing New Zealand instead of England. "I must admit that this is a very attractive opportunity, Mr. Sherlock. I can stay in the Cook Islands forever, deal with the protests of the Niueans, and help this rebellious island establish an independent jurisdiction. At the same time, public facilities on other islands can be improved." They sat in Holmes' drawing-room in Baker Street, drinking dry claret and talking. "But you are afraid that your behavior will be regarded as a betrayal of the British government?" said Holmes. "Basically, there is such a worry." "I wouldn't worry if I were you, my good brother. You've done your job, and done it pretty well. I think you're now at last free to use your talents elsewhere. It's here, why don't you go?" "Do you really think so?" "Of course, of course." Then, like Lamont, Matsuda thanked Holmes and asked him to keep the conversation a secret.Before he left, he drank the red wine in the glass and bowed before stepping out the front door and onto the street.He soon returned to the Cook Islands and began to travel frequently from island to island, meeting with the five main island chiefs and seven lesser chiefs to lay out his vision for the future island legislature.Eventually he even went to Elromano Island in the New Hebrides, and the last time he was seen he was on his way into the most remote part of The most famous are the huge totem poles erected by the locals with skulls and the necklaces made of human bones). Of course, the story is far from airtight.If Mr. Mayge pressed further, Holmes feared that he might be confusing details, names, dates, or historical facts.Besides, he couldn't reasonably explain why Matsuda had to abandon his family and live in the Cook Islands.But Meggie was so desperate to find out that Holmes felt that this story should satisfy his requirements.He thought that no matter what unknown reasons prompted Matsuda to start a new life, it was no longer important to Mei Qi (these reasons should be based on personal or privacy considerations, and it was impossible for him to know of).But Meggie can still know some important facts about her father: he played a major role in stopping the French invasion of the Cook Islands, he quelled the rebellion in Niue, and he rallied the islanders before he disappeared into the jungle. One day establish a government of its own. "Your father," he would tell Meggie, "was held in high esteem by the British government, and to the old men of Rarotonga, and to the older people of the surrounding islands, his name was a legend. .” By the dim light of a lantern beside the futon, Holmes grabbed his stick and rose to his feet.He put on his kimono and walked across the room, taking great care not to trip over.When he came to the panel, he stood for a moment.The opposite is Mr. Mei Qi's room, and he can hear the snoring.Staring at the wall panels, he tapped lightly on the floor with a cane.Then, he heard what seemed to be a cough from inside, followed by the rustling of slight movements (the sound of turning over, the sound of lifting the sheet).He listened for a while, but heard nothing again.Finally, he groped for the doorknob and found only a groove, which he gripped and opened the sliding door. The adjoining room was an exact replica of the room in which Holmes had slept--a dim yellow light from a lantern, a futon in the center of the floor, a table fixed to the floor, and cushions for sitting or kneeling against the walls.He walked over to the futon.The quilt was kicked away, and Mr. Mei Qi could barely see his half-naked body, sleeping on his back, motionless, very quiet, and even seemed to have stopped breathing.On the left side of the futon, next to the lantern, is a pair of slippers neatly arranged.When Holmes bent down, Meggie woke up suddenly. He said something in panic in Japanese, and stared at the black figure approaching in front of him. "I have something to say to you." Holmes laid the cane across his knees. Meggie, still staring straight ahead, sat up, reached for the lantern, and held it up again, illuminating Holmes' grave face. "Mr. Sherlock? Are you all right?" Under the light of the lantern, Holmes narrowed his eyes.He pressed Mei Qi's raised hand with his palm, and gently pressed the lantern down.Then he spoke in the dark: "I ask you, just listen to me, and when I'm done, please don't ask any more questions about this matter." Meggie didn't answer, so Holmes Continue to say, "Over the past so many years, I have been strictly adhering to a principle, that is, under no circumstances should you talk about events that must be kept strictly confidential or involve state secrets. I hope you can understand, because breaking this rule Principles could have endangered many lives and my reputation. But I realize now that I'm getting old. I think my reputation has already been decided, and I've kept it for decades The people involved in my secret are probably no longer alive. In other words, everything that made me is no longer in this world, and I am still alive—” "It's not like that," said Mr. Mayge. "Please don't talk. If you don't say anything, I'll tell you everything about your father. You see, I want to share what I know about him with you before I forget him." Explain clearly - I hope you will just listen carefully - I will go when I have finished, and I beg you never to discuss this matter with me again, because tonight, my friend, it is my This is the first time I have violated the principles I have held on to all my life. Now, let me do my best to give us both some peace of mind." With that, Holmes began to tell his story in a low, incoherent voice, as if in a dream.When he finished whispering, they sat facing each other for a while, neither moving nor saying a word, just two vague figures sitting there, each like a reflection of the other.Their heads were hidden in the darkness, and the floor under their feet reflected a faint light.At last Holmes rose without a word, staggered to his room, and wearily got into bed, dropping his cane thumping beside the futon.