what do you think sherlock

Chapter 38 Strange Auction Item

The host of the party was an old man dressed as a scholar, and indeed he was. This old gentleman named Randall Davidson taught classical history and heraldry at King's College London, both very rare subjects.

However, a scholar is only the most inconspicuous of his many identities. In addition, he also serves as the honorary vice president of the Classical History Research Association, the chief advisor of the Wessex Noble Foundation, and a seat in the House of Lords. These are not his most prominent status.

His most prominent status is also the one that the old man is most proud of. He has a hard-to-pronounce name: Second Secretary of the Imperial Family.

To the outside world, every move of the old gentleman can to some extent represent the will of the emperor who has lived in Windsor Castle for a long time.

"First of all, I need to thank the British Museum for its full support for this exhibition, and secondly, we would like to thank the Raglan family for their sponsorship. Let us pay tribute to Mrs. Raglan,"

The old man looked young and had a gray beard, but his voice was very loud and his voice was full of momentum. He raised his wine glass to show everyone, and everyone present also raised their wine glasses to express their thanks to Mrs. Raglan.

Mrs. Raglan returned the salutes demurely.

"Of course, what we need to thank most is our benevolent, wise and kind Majesty Victoria. We thank her generosity for allowing us, the citizens of London, and all the subjects of the British Empire to have the opportunity to experience her supreme glory. To see the most precious treasure of the empire,"

Secretary Davidson once again raised his wine glass, facing the direction of Windsor Castle, and toasted a glass of wine from a distance. Afterwards, everyone in the venue followed Davidson's action to toast.

"This is the end of the lengthy ceremony, well, I think it is necessary, otherwise so many drinks tonight will have to be taken home by everyone."

Davidson told a polite British joke, and the audience immediately burst into laughter, and even added a sentence,
"It's my pleasure."

Everyone knew that Davidson was just joking, and it turned out that some people were ignorant, but such ignorance made the surrounding guests even happier.

"Well, let's send the gentleman a bottle of wine," Davidson said, spreading his hands resignedly to the crowd, and then immediately went on:
"But this gentleman, I am afraid that tomorrow all London, no, it should be the whole of England, your story will be circulated. A special gentleman, he finally visited the British Museum, but he did not take any knowledge with him, only brought back A bottle of wine."

Everyone laughed again.

"Okay, that's the end of the opening. I think everyone has worked so hard to come here on such a cold night. Surely it's not to listen to me, an old man, right? Cut the nonsense, let me briefly introduce the process to you. First of all, we The war memorabilia donated by Mrs. Raglan, the Imperial Army, and military families will be auctioned on this stage. There should be a sign in front of everyone. Everyone can raise a sign for auction. It means adding 10 pounds to the current price, and if you feel that the placard is too cumbersome and want to increase the price significantly, you can directly raise your hand to signal. Does anyone have any questions?"

"Okay, since everyone has no questions, let us invite the first auction item, which is a military flag captured from the Russian army by the brave and outstanding soldiers of the British Empire during the Crimean War... ..."

The charity auction began. One after another, various military items from the Crimean War, or other battlefields in recent decades, left behind, or seized, were put on the stage and then sold to the public. The guests in the audience bid one after another at prices far exceeding their own value.

To be honest, the memorabilia produced by these wars in recent decades does not have much collection value, so there is no real astronomical figure in this party.

But even so, the minimum transaction amount that appeared at this party far exceeded Di Renjie's entire savings at this time.

"You don't look interested." Sherlock patted Di Renjie on the shoulder.

"Maybe it's because I'm too familiar with the battlefield. I don't have any good memories there." Di Renjie shrugged.

The three of them are now standing in a corner, far away from Mrs. Raglan and her party.

"Although I haven't experienced it, I can probably guess what kind of place it is. Guns, corpses, dust, ruins, and blood flow all over the ground." Sherlock took a sip of the red wine in his glass, "It must be nothing. Good place."

"Next, let's invite the next auction item. Oh, this is a thing with complicated origins. It belongs to Captain Nolan Hudson's cryptex. It is well known that Captain Hudson died in the charge of the light cavalry. This cryptex is what he left behind..."

Davidson's words interrupted the conversation between Di Renjie and Sherlock, and the two looked at Mrs. Hudson involuntarily.

Mrs. Hudson looked very calm, but her eyes that were motionless looking at the booth and her slightly clenched hands revealed her uneasy heart.

"Are you okay?" Di Renjie took a small step towards Mrs. Hudson.

"It's okay, I just saw his things suddenly, and I lost my composure," Mrs. Hudson's voice trembled slightly.

"We are by your side, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock also walked to Mrs. Hudson's side, and Di Renjie protected her in the middle.

Di Renjie shifted his gaze to the platform after seeing Mrs. Hudson calm down a little, and then his attention was instantly attracted by the cryptex on the booth.

Strange, a very strange feeling flooded into his heart in an instant.

This abnormal emotion immediately aroused Di Renjie's vigilance, and he felt that the cryptex box on the stage was exuding a strong attraction to him at this moment.

As if there was something he needed on it.

This feeling was too strange, so Di Renjie made a decisive decision. He closed his eyes and isolated the thing from his sight.

With the eyes closed, the attraction diminishes, but remains, as if the connection, once noticed, becomes hard to ignore.

But why would I be attracted by this thing that obviously has nothing to do with me...

Wait a moment,
Di Renjie sank his consciousness into the soul room as if blessed to his soul, and then he saw a sentence of real name, which was faintly shining:
"A remnant of a lost history."

(End of this chapter)