Russia, St. Petersburg, British Embassy.
Blackwell, the Cultural Attaché’s private secretary, hurriedly carried several sealed diplomatic docunts through the embassy corridor, stopping in front of Arthur’s office.
Perhaps thinking of Arthur’s picky temper, Blackwell didn’t imdiately push the door open; instead, he took a deep breath until his panting subsided behind the heavy oak door. Only then did he straighten his tie and open the office door.
Through the blazing fireplace and hazy smoke, one could see an intricately carved peach wood desk in the office, with a piece of deer-skin colored parchnt spread on it. The sound of a pen nib scratching on paper could be heard.
However, what first caught Blackwell’s attention was not these familiar furniture items, but rather the several pieces of calligraphy hung behind Arthur.
On the left wall — "For elegance, space is unnecessary; the fragrance of flowers does not rely on abundance."
By the right window — "The universe allows tranquility; let others chase after fa and fortune."
Horizontal inscription — "Only My Virtue Is Fragrant."
Fortunately, Blackwell didn’t know Chinese, so he couldn’t see how unhumble these inscriptions were.
But just because he didn’t understand doesn’t an the Red Devil didn’t. This morning, Agares had spat at these pieces nurous tis.
Last week at a gathering in Bichulin’s ho, Arthur not only brought back these calligraphy works but also spent the hefty sum of 20 rubles to buy a bright yellow porcelain teacup from a priest.
"Sir, two docunts, one sent from Constantinople, the other from 15 Downing Street."
Arthur, who was practicing his writing, heard this news, stretched, and took the docunts from his secretary’s hand: "What’s the matter this ti?"
Blackwell replied: "Viscount Palrston is not satisfied with the Tsar’s order to withdraw troops from Wallachia and Moldavia. He also thinks His Majesty the Tsar’s formal response in the protest docunt was perhaps sowhat rude."
While opening the letter, Arthur asked, "What did the Tsar say?"
"The Tsar argued that Russia only did what the British wanted to do; they just took the lead."
Arthur took out the letter and grinned: "That’s quite the truth, but the Tsar clearly doesn’t understand diplomatic language. He’s not exactly a fool but evidently lacks the talent for diplomatic work. I guess Viscount Palrston at 15 Downing Street must be furious?"
"Perhaps even more than that." Blackwell shrugged: "He called such an argunt not only crude but also rude."
"And Fleet Street? With Viscount Palrston acting so tough, they must love it. ’Britain’s sword declares war on Russian barbarians,’ ’The iron-fisted Foreign Secretary lands a punch on Nicholas I,’ ’Nomadic tribes attempt to infringe our mariti borders’? Such headlines must be their style?"
"You really understand the temperant of British journalists."
"Hard not to."
Arthur leisurely crossed his legs, flipping through the reports sent by the Foreign Office: "Since I left London, I’ve grown fonder of the image of those little reporters. Brewing a pot of black tea and picking up an inky ’The Tis’ is the ultimate luxury during breaks, of course, provided you’re not the main character of their stories."
Blackwell was quite curious about Arthur’s early experiences. Though he knew the Sir had been a leading figure in London, it’s always more interesting to hear personal accounts than second-hand tales.
Especially since he hadn’t heard any new anecdotes about Arthur for several days now.
"Were you very popular with Fleet Street back then?"
Arthur gave the young man a glance, then picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said sparingly: "I’d rather they forgot ."
Feeling guilty like a thief, Blackwell hastily changed the topic: "I think at least for now, neither Britain nor Russia has the upper hand, and the Tsar and Viscount Palrston exchanging harsh words won’t help ease the increasingly tense diplomatic relations between the two countries. Sir, do you have any good solutions?"
"?" Arthur half-joked: "I don’t have that ability. But if possible, I think it’s best to hand this issue over to the Royal Post. Although they can’t solve it, I believe they can certainly slow it down."
Arthur could view this issue with such ease because he had confidence in his heart.
To outsiders, it seed he was just socializing with cultural elites in St. Petersburg, attending various literary salons and concerts.
But in fact, due to the special nature of Tsarist Russia’s cultural circles, most local cultural celebrities worked in various central departnts, including figures like the Crown Prince’s Tutor Rukovski, Privy Council Advisor Duke Vyazemsky, and Bulgarin, editor of the semi-official Tsarist Russian mouthpiece "Northern Bee."
Since these people occupied different areas of Tsarist Russia’s power structures, Arthur could always learn various valuable or interesting information from them.
For example, Bulgarin had privately complained before that Pushkin received too much official protection.
Bulgarin didn’t deny Pushkin’s talent, but he insisted that Pushkin’s high status in Tsarist Russian literature couldn’t be separated from the governnt’s semi-public patronage.
A few years ago, Bulgarin had written a critique in "Northern Bee" about Pushkin’s work "Eugene Onegin," which led to a debate with Pushkin lasting several weeks.
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