Arthur consoled, "Nonetheless, although you cannot et Mr. ndelssohn, the gentleman beside is equally famous. Allow to introduce — Mr. Heinrich Heine."
Shubinsky turned his gaze to Heine, initially stunned, then spoke more humbly, "Oh! So you are Mr. Heine! Your verses are truly the embodint of human wisdom! I can even say without exaggeration that your poems enable a rough man like to appreciate a type of..."
He racked his brains and finally found a word, "Noble sentint! Yes, noble sentint! I have always dreamt that our Russia could have such a great poet like you, who could compose such exquisite verses... Uh... Every one of your words carries a poetic freedom..."
Heine squinted his eyes, though he was unsure who the gentleman in front of him was, the two dals on his chest and heavy Russian accent made Heine realize — this fellow is a ruler in the ’Arctic Bear Autonomous Territory.’
Heine said with a touch of amusent, "Freedom? That’s an unusual praise, especially from an official like you."
Shubinsky felt a slight tremor in his heart, but imdiately forced a smile, saying vaguely, "Oh, Mr. Heine, you are a great poet, and poets, naturally, belong to freedom! That is what we admire about you."
He hurriedly added, "As long as it doesn’t violate... uh, social order, freedom, you know, haha. Look, the greatest poet of our Russia — Pushkin, isn’t he now residing freely in St. Petersburg, freely composing his verses? Incidentally, the order that pardoned Pushkin from exile was given by our enlightened Emperor Nicholas I."
Heine looked at the Colonel, having to praise the Emperor even abroad, and sighed lightly, "Well, sir, the freedom of Russia is indeed... very original."
Shubinsky’s German proficiency was clearly insufficient to discern sophisticated terms like ’original’, and instead responded more excitedly, "Oh! Thank you for appreciating our Russian culture!"
He wished to think of more praises, but was clearly exhausted of words, and thus bowed repeatedly, his face full of smiles.
Finally, he didn’t forget to defend Heine, "I think the way Austria and Prussia treated you was unfair, you are clearly such a good person, it’s hard to imagine those unseemly verses ca from your pen. In my view, soone must have frad you."
"Rare are discerning people like you nowadays."
Heine raised his hand to bid farewell to Shubinsky, worried that if the conversation continued, the other might invite him to Russia.
For Heine, his activities could at most reach Leipzig in the east, if he went further east, it would be overly confident in his own safety.
Just as Heine left the lounge, Shubinsky was still imrsed in the excitent of befriending the poet hated by the Austrian Empire, suddenly, a thunderous applause erupted from the theatre’s front stage, followed by a dead silence.
While Shubinsky was puzzled, the first notes of the "Turandot" overture sounded like thunder, the deep brass and urgent violin opened the tragic prelude of the Eastern Dynasty. The notes carried a strong tension, as if narrating a frozen fate and the irresistible wheel of destiny.
The entire orchestra resounded, emitting grand and tense sound, the shocking bass akin to war drums beating on ancient city walls, enveloping everything in an atmosphere of majesty and solemnity.
Shubinsky exclaid in surprise, "Good heavens! Is this Mr. ndelssohn’s latest work? This musical style is really unprecedented! I had thought his new work would certainly be sothing of a religious program like the ’St. Matthew Passion.’"
Next, "Jasmine Flower" played as scheduled.
Shubinsky listened quietly for a mont, then firmly declared, "This is just like a Chinese song!"
Arthur asked with so surprise, "You’ve heard it?"
"I haven’t heard this one, but I’ve heard songs of similar style." Shubinsky said, "Once, I was responsible for transporting exiles to Chita. In the market at Chita, you occasionally co across so Chinese rchants and laborers, if you listen carefully, you will find their songs have a lody similar to this one."
Arthur murmured, "Chita, huh..."
Shubinsky thought he didn’t know where Chita was, and enthusiastically introduced, "It’s in the Transbaikalia, Chita is the most important city and military fortress of that area. Naturally, it is also one of Russia’s most dreadful exile places, you could compare it to Britain’s Canada and Australia."
Arthur asked curiously, "Let’s posit such a situation, if a diplomat applied, would it be possible to be permitted to go to Transbaikalia?"
"Well..." Shubinsky replied half-jokingly, "Good heavens! You wouldn’t be planning to go to Chita to spy on our military intelligence, would you?"
"What if I don’t go to Chita?"
"Not going to Chita? What other worthwhile places are there in Transbaikalia?" Shubinsky waved his hand, "If you want to walk in the snowy wasteland and be frozen into an ice sculpture, by all ans, roam in the wild of Transbaikalia. Of course, I can’t rule out there indeed are such eccentrics, like Mr. Alexander von Humboldt."
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