I am a literary giant in Russia

Chapter 51 A Moveable Feast

All in all, Mikhail did not attach much importance to the first high society party he was going to attend so far. After all, if you want to integrate into a circle that does not belong to you, you often need flattery and the shamelessness to not be afraid of being insulted. Mikhail did not have these two things, so he was naturally prepared to sit on the bench.

Moreover, in this day and age, most nobles are obsessed with hierarchy and their own aristocratic dignity.

Just as Panaev described his childhood, when he was twelve years old, influenced by his surroundings, he was unwilling to study with the children of intellectuals and craftsmen who were not of noble origin. Not only was his idea considered completely reasonable, but his relatives would even say with pride when talking about it with their acquaintances:
"Although he is just a child, his feelings are so noble!"

Of course, Panaev is not like this now, but this gives us a rough idea of ​​what the nobles are thinking these days.

Mikhail did not take it seriously, but Turgenev, who had become increasingly close to Mikhail recently, took matters into his own hands:

"Dear Mikhail, I know that a noble gentleman like you would not be willing to sell your dignity for a little attention and fame, but how can you be so careless? After all, this is a good opportunity to expand your network. You know, without all kinds of connections, a person can't survive in St. Petersburg at all!

It's always good to get to know more people. Your current outfit is definitely not suitable. I know you may not be well off, so let me buy you some decent clothes first! You have to work hard to show yourself, brother. With your looks and talent, it's not impossible for a young lady to take a fancy to you. Then you'll have no worries about food and drink!"

Turgenev certainly meant well, but Mikhail was more concerned with another issue:
"Dear Ivan, I thought you had spent all your money. Didn't your mother send you money again?"

"Of course not." The tall Turgenev smiled brightly. "Don't worry, I borrowed some money from others. I'll pay it back when my mother sends me more money."

Mikhail: “?”

My good brother borrowed money to buy me clothes
Mikhail was naturally going to refuse since his good brother was so loyal, but Turgenev had already made up his mind and even brought clothes to Mikhail. Compared to Mikhail, he, who had been in the upper class for many years, certainly knew better what kind of dress would be more pleasing.

Facing Mikhail's refusal, Turgenev waved his hand to reassure Mikhail, and said with a hint of emotion: "Mikhail, when do you think I can get my family's money? When I have money, I will definitely set aside some money. If you have any difficulties in the future, you can come to me."

It's almost there, brother. It's really almost there. I just don't know whether you'll be more in pain or relieved by then.
Turgenev's mother was a brutal aristocrat with deep-seated aristocratic ideas. Her main character was a quack. Although my brother Turgenev still had many aristocratic habits, he was generally a very progressive person. This led to more and more serious differences between him and his mother, to the point that his mother cursed him before her death:
"You'll regret betraying your class!"

As for the current situation, generally speaking, Turgenev's mother wants to use money to control her two sons and make them always obey her. Therefore, she is strict with them financially, so that Turgenev's brother is already struggling on the poverty line.

It is even said that Turgenev's mother was still thinking about how to make her two sons impoverished when she was dying. She once wanted to ask the housekeeper to sell the territory at a low price or burn it down.

There are too many complicated emotions involved in this. Perhaps only Turgenev himself knows what kind of feelings he should have.

By the way, the first thing my brother Tu did after getting the inheritance was to liberate the serfs under his command, and he also provided them with shelter as a nobleman, expressing his opposition to serfdom with his actions.

At the same time, he also transformed into the Tsarist Russian version of Song Jiang, the timely rain. Many times, he spent more money on others than on himself. Relying on this kind of righteousness and his excellent writing skills, my brother Tu also stepped onto the road to becoming the leader of the literary world step by step.

So, getting back to the point, since Turgenev insisted so much, Mikhail didn't refuse anymore and decided to pay him back as soon as he had the money.

But it must be said that Mikhail will probably become richer faster than Turgenev, and by then, it is estimated that the roles will be reversed. After a brief sigh, as the evening banquet was about to begin, Mikhail struggled to change his clothes.

Today, French-style dresses are still the mainstream in Russian upper society. Male nobles usually wear a tight long coat with the collar and cuffs decorated with gold embroidery or jewelry. The fabrics are mostly velvet, cotton or silk, and then a waistcoat and silk breeches.

Since Nicholas I, who was in power at the time, loved to wear military uniforms to various occasions, the people below him naturally also picked up this habit. In addition, there were indeed many nobles who served as officers, so nobles often wore double-breasted coats with ribbons and medals on formal occasions.

The colors are mostly dark green, dark blue and other dark colors. In order to show their status, people in the palace mostly use gold, purple and other colors that symbolize power.

Of course, due to his status and my brother Tu's financial problems, Mikhail would not dress too formally. He was a lot more decent, but certainly not comparable to those flashy noble gentlemen. This level was just right in Mikhail's opinion.

When Mikhail put on this outfit, he looked quite good since he was already good-looking. His old mother stared at Mikhail wearing this outfit, her eyes moistened slightly, as if she saw a bright future for her son in the near future.

Walking out of his small room, the old maid Nastasia quickly poked her head out, and the others in the apartment also made good-natured jokes:

"My dear Mikhail, I bet you will win the hearts of many girls today."

"I know what you're going to do without you telling me. Alas! I was once as young as you!"

"Mikhail, this is the first time I think you look like a college student, or even a bit like a nobleman!"

"You'll be back tonight, right, Mikhail? I thought you might be spending the night somewhere else!"

After responding to the teasing with a bit of embarrassment, Mikhail finally came downstairs. Not long after, a comfortable-looking carriage appeared on the already dim street. After it stopped, Turgenev, dressed like a colorful peacock, stuck his head out of the carriage and waved to Mikhail.

As the black-eyed, brown-haired young man walked forward, he looked back several times. His eyes reflected his excited mother and restrained sister, the old maid, the strong landlord, the small landowner, the small businessman and the small civil servant. He looked at St. Petersburg, which was gradually engulfed in darkness. In such a deep night, only the Tsar's magnificent Winter Palace and the core area of ​​St. Petersburg were still brightly lit.

He paused for a moment, waved his hand, and then got into the carriage. The sound of horse hooves and ruts was heavy and powerful, carrying him from the dark and dilapidated street into the clean and wide avenue. The surroundings became cleaner and brighter, and the lights became brighter. The drunkards, beggars and prostitutes of St. Petersburg gradually disappeared until they were no longer there, as if they had never existed.

When he got off the carriage, what caught his eye was a bright three- to four-story stone building. There seemed to be a Persian red carpet at the door. Servants with unclear expressions stood on both sides. Gentlemen and ladies in smart clothes walked towards the door, and from a distance he could hear a few words of authentic French from their mouths.

Mikhail and the slightly excited Turgenev also walked inside.

Mikhail used to be quite lively, but at this moment he was unusually quiet. He just looked around curiously and listened to the conversations of the people around him.

Everything in front of him seemed to be shining, but he had a pair of equally bright black eyes.

(End of this chapter)