I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 183 Mikhail's New Role and Bitterness

Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev was the second son of Sergei Nikolayevich Turgenev, a landowner in our county.

Old Turgenev died suddenly of an illness eleven years ago. This womanizing officer once said to his son: "You can do whatever you want. You belong to yourself. That's what life is all about."

He was aloof, always appearing arrogant, polite, and reserved to everyone, even his son. So much so that Turgenev recalled years later: "Only once, just once, did he show me a little warmth that almost made me cry."

Turgenev's mother, Varvara, lost her father at a young age. Her stepfather not only disliked her but also frequently abused her. When she was sixteen, she finally escaped to her uncle's place, but her uncle was eccentric and short-tempered, and she had to continue to endure it in order to survive.

When she was thirty, her uncle died suddenly, and she inherited twenty villages and five thousand serfs, with a land area equivalent to two provinces in France at the time.

Having acquired immense wealth and power, seemingly to compensate for everything she had suffered, she became tyrannical, domineering, and short-tempered. Unable to control her husband, she turned to her son for discipline, just as Turgenev described:
"I have no fond memories of my childhood, not a single happy one. I was afraid of my mother like I was afraid of fire, and I was often punished for the smallest things."

Their family was well-known in Mtsensk County, Oryol Province. Recently, an anecdote about their family became a hot topic of conversation among many landlords and serfs in the vicinity. It was said that a distinguished guest had recently visited their home. This person was the owner of the best-selling literary magazine in St. Petersburg, whose annual revenue was equivalent to the annual output of several hundred serfs.

At the same time, his articles and poems captivated many noble families in St. Petersburg, and he established good relations with them. Even more astonishingly, his novel written in French became a bestseller in Paris. He accomplished this feat at the young age of twenty-one, almost an adult.

When such a person comes to the countryside, even though many of the local landlords don't really know much about literature, it doesn't stop them from wanting to meet a big shot from a big city like St. Petersburg.

However, this young man did not seem to enjoy socializing. As soon as he arrived, he followed Turgenev into the vast mountains and forests. They then went hunting, crossing mountains, colorful forests, yellow and green farmland, clear streams, scattered villages, and cattle and sheep roaming in the open fields. Occasionally, they would stop at the house of a landowner along the way.

Only at such times can people catch a glimpse of this rare and remarkable figure.

Although he declared himself to be the son of a commoner from the beginning, everyone who met him seemed to be saying:
"Absolutely impossible! Such demeanor and temperament could never be cultivated without the birth of a noble family in St. Petersburg! And how could a commoner possibly make a name for himself in the literary world of St. Petersburg or even France? He must have some unspeakable secret, or perhaps he concealed his family background to avoid trouble."

This claim was widely accepted, and people even went so far as to recount the gossip and anecdotes about the nobles. As his deeds and poems spread, more and more rural landlords seemed to be looking forward to his visit, and some even used it as a source of pride.

However, such an encounter does require a lot of luck. Ilitch, a middle-aged landowner in Zhizdra County, does not think he has such good luck, but sometimes he can't help but think about it. After all, if he really does run into one, it might increase his social standing.

As a prominent figure in the area, Ilitch frequented local social circles for many years, but he could never attain a high position or attract the attention of the beautiful local women. He often complained to his friends about this, but he still gave sour peaches and other unripe fruits from his orchard as gifts to the women he admired.

Meanwhile, in an attempt to elevate his social standing, he claimed that his family ate French cuisine. However, according to his chef's understanding of French cuisine, the secret to cooking such dishes lies in completely transforming the original flavors of various ingredients. For example, after cooking, meat tastes like fish, fish tastes like mushrooms, and macaroni tastes like gunpowder.
On an ordinary afternoon, Ilrich was in his living room, racking his brains, trying to figure out how to tell some rumors in a vivid and interesting way so as to attract the attention of others and get praise for his humor. In social situations, witty conversation is undoubtedly a powerful tool.

As he pondered this matter, faint piano music drifted from a side room. His daughter, on whom he had placed high hopes, was practicing the piano, a skill that could enhance her social standing. However, perhaps because the afternoon sun was too languid, the piano music inevitably sounded somewhat drowsy.

The young girl from the landlord's family in the countryside was inevitably a little drowsy in this atmosphere. Suddenly, she seemed to hear a commotion coming from the courtyard, which seemed to include her father's excited voice. The noise startled her awake, and she couldn't help but stand up curiously. She then peeked through the crack in the window at the scene in the courtyard.

The first thing that catches the eye is a tall, good-looking young man who is talking to her father. It is clear that her father is not excited about the young man, but keeps looking back.

Not long after, a tall and slender Russian wolfhound rushed in, but it didn't go far. After a short while, it started circling in place. When it looked back, a young man wearing a linen shirt, a narrow-brimmed hat, and carrying a hunting rifle walked in.

As soon as he entered, the dog rubbed against him several times. Then her father went to greet him. The girl from the rural landlord's family first noticed the several small prey in the unusually young man's hands, and then his appearance, voice and conversation. It seemed that she had been spying for a while. When she came to her senses, the young man seemed to look in her direction and then nodded slightly.

Once she realized what had happened, she hurriedly returned to her seat like a startled bird, and then perked up to practice the piece she knew best.

Mikhail was unaware of these matters. After settling down at his host's house, he took advantage of Ilyich's absence to look helplessly at Turgenev and said, "So how long are you going to keep staring at me like this? So what if I caught a little more prey than you? I already told you, I was just lucky today."

"Today was luck, but what about yesterday?"

"Yesterday was also a stroke of luck."

"Yesterday was luck, but what about the day before yesterday?"

"I was lucky the day before yesterday."

"What about the day before yesterday?"

Mikhail: "..." What can I say?

"Mikhail, you're speechless now!"

Seeing that Mikhail was speechless, Turgenev said indignantly, "These prey in Kaluga Province are all idiots! They all love to get themselves into other people's bullets! They are complete idiots!"

At this point, Turgenev couldn't help but look at the Russian wolfhound that was still circling around Mikhail and cursed, "It's clearly my dog, how come it's turned into this state after I lent it to you for two days? Ungrateful dog!"

Mikhail: “.”

Actually, if you feed it more, it will also circle around you like this.
Although he really wanted to say that, Mikhail could only helplessly shrug in the end to avoid being seen as showing off or being provocative by Turgenev.

Mikhail could understand Turgenev's resentment. After all, Turgenev was very proud of his identity as a hunter and had great confidence in it. However, Mikhail had been winning against him for several days by sheer luck.

If Mikhail were to put it bluntly, Turgenev's performance only deteriorated the more he rushed, and perhaps hunting requires a more relaxed and patient approach.

Incidentally, it has been more than a month since Mikhail traveled all the way to Turgenev's place. As mentioned above, Turgenev, coming from such a family background, naturally did not have a very good relationship with his mother. Even after returning home, he did not want to stay at home every day. Instead, he chose to go into the mountains to hunt, and when he was tired, he would stay overnight at the home of a landlord he knew.

For Mikhail, this is actually quite normal. After all, given Turgenev's family background, he was already very strong without Yu Yu, not to mention that he grew up with a gentle personality, which is even more remarkable.

It was precisely because of this personality that it seemed natural that he had a bad relationship with his mother, who was a brutal serf owner. However, Mikhail did not comment much on this. He simply bragged to Turgenev's mother as a guest about how well Turgenev was doing in St. Petersburg and France, and how awesome he was. Soon after, he settled down in the mountains with Turgenev.

It's worth mentioning that Mikhail's boasts to Old Tu's mother were quite credible. After all, when Old Tu returned to his hometown, he didn't forget to bring some proof of Mikhail's great achievements to introduce to his mother and other people he knew. So Mikhail's fame here is indeed thanks to Old Tu.

If that's the case, then what's the point of saying anything more?

Do you even know what it means to be praised and elevated?

So Old Tu praised Mikhail, and Mikhail praised Old Tu in return. Before long, the two brothers' reputations had indeed spread throughout the neighborhood, making it much easier for them to find lodging at other people's homes.

As for Old Tu's mother, after seeing the evidence, she naturally believed Mikhail's boasting and genuinely thought that her son was climbing higher and higher in St. Petersburg instead of wasting his time. So, at first glance, the relationship between mother and son seemed to have eased a lot.

Even so, Old Tu was still unwilling to stay at home, so after getting their gear ready, the two of them plunged into the vast forests of Russia.

It must be said that this was a wonderful journey for Mikhail, after all, the mountains and forests here were so vast, and the abundance of flora and fauna broadened his horizons. Similarly, Russia today is still primarily an agricultural society, and memories of rural estates and nature are also the spiritual home of this generation of writers.

Later, when desperate intellectuals could find no way out in the cities, they turned their attention to the vast rural society of Russia, hoping to find the true national spirit of Russia there.

While enjoying the natural scenery, Mikhail naturally didn't forget to hone his skills in using a gun and riding a horse. These skills might come in handy in the future. Now that he had learned them, Mikhail could be considered to have grasped the basics. At least he could use them proficiently without any problems. All that remained was to work on improving his accuracy.

Mikhail felt he was making steady progress, but perhaps because Mikhail was very lucky, Turgenev could only think, "Mikhail, did you deceive me again? You clearly learned it before, but you pretended to know nothing at the beginning, and then showed off to me while I was happily teaching you."
What a vicious scheme! I'll use it in front of others next time.
In short, after regretting his failures a few days earlier, Turgenev finally recovered his spirits thanks to the warm hospitality of the landowner, Ilyich.

That's right, Mikhail was just lucky!

Watch how I crush him next!
Just as Turgenev was thinking this to himself, the country landowner Ilyich was so overwhelmed by this sudden surprise that he was already imagining the dazzling scene he would be in at social occasions.

However, before that, we must certainly treat these two guests well.

So when Ilch instructed the servants to pour the best tea for the two of them, he also went to his own orchard and then served it to them with great enthusiasm. Since it looked very good, Mikhail took a look and prepared to pick one to try.

However, just as he was about to make his move, Turgenev had already snatched the fruit that Mikhail had chosen, and then, with a smug look on his face, stuffed the fruit into his mouth.
Turgenev: “?”

Why is it sour?!

(End of this chapter)