Chapter 13: Cooperation with Nekrasov (Tuesday: Request Follows!)

As for this fellow Nekrasov, he can be summed up in three simple points.

A first-class publisher, a second-rate poet, and also a lover of threesomes.

His status as a first-class publisher stems from his sharp eye—he soon made a fortune by publishing several anthologies, eventually becoming the owner of *Sovremennik*, the magazine founded by Russia’s literary giant Pushkin and the most influential publication in all of Russia.

Hmm, about Pushkin being a giant—no, wait, here are two pieces of evidence that the giant resembles Pushkin.

First, Pushkin had dark skin and thick lips (Pushkin had African ancestry).

Second, though controversial in his lifetime, he was at the height of his fame; after death, his fans dragged his corpse out again and again to flog it.

Ahem, of course, that’s a joke. Let’s leave Pushkin here for now—after all, since Mikhail is living in present-day Russia, Pushkin is an unavoidable topic, even though he’s been dead for years.

As for Nekrasov being a second-rate poet, that’s fair enough—he does hold a place in Russian poetic history, but he’s not worthy to sit at the same table as the giant Pushkin.

Now, about the threesome lover.

In short, Nekrasov had a close friend named Panayev, who was both a poet and a shareholder of *Sovremennik*, born into nobility, wealthy, with countless lovers; he later took up with an actress named Adofya and married her.

Then this actress fell for Nekrasov, and eventually they formed a public, stable triangular relationship.

If Mikhail remembers correctly, this year Nekrasov moved directly into Panayev’s house.

Mikhail finds it hard to imagine what their nightlife must have been like.

But this isn’t Mikhail’s current priority—what matters more is riding Nekrasov’s momentum to make some money quickly.

The payment isn’t low, but it’s still not enough.

Mikhail doesn’t demand much in life, but as a man from the future, his basic standard of living looks no different from that of a nobleman in today’s Russia—even a minor noble above the ordinary.

Just consider food: these days, even the Tsar himself probably eats more for emotional value than for taste.

As for flavor, Mikhail says: I’m not joking when I say I’ve got science and hard work on my side.

I add a spoonful of flavoring.

Back to the matter at hand: upon hearing Mikhail’s question, Nekrasov paused, then asked with slight surprise, “Oh? You mean you want to include your work in the anthology I’m about to publish? I’ll certainly reserve you a prime spot and a generous royalty share.”

Of course, Qiantishi our anthology sells well.”

Undoubtedly, with Belinsky’s endorsement and commentary, Mikhail will soon become a sensation in St. Petersburg’s cultural circles.

And with such a promising young genius joining, Nekrasov’s confidence in his anthology will surely grow.

Moreover, gaining Belinsky’s endorsement and commentary sounds easy—but achieving it is harder than climbing to heaven.

For instance, even though Nekrasov maintains a good relationship with Belinsky now, if he published another poetry collection like the one three years ago, Belinsky would still harshly criticize him.

Treating only a few this way might seem heartless, but treating everyone’s writing this way reveals only one thing: this man’s sincerity toward literature and his unwavering determination to walk his own path.

“Of course, Nikolai. I’m happy to write several more pieces for your anthology.”

Facing this benefactor who, in a sense, had directly introduced him to the upper echelons of Russian literature, Mikhail spoke frankly:

“To be honest, I have great faith in your anthology focused on the lower classes of St. Petersburg. I want to join this cause—not just as a contributor, but as your partner. Think about what this project still needs—if anything, I’d like to help.”

To be frank, since he’s a first-class publisher, Nekrasov is naturally skilled at navigating complex relationships and precisely gauging government policies and other influencing factors.

All of these are things Mikhail neither understands nor excels at.

So now, it comes down to whether Nekrasov needs Lu Bu or something else.

Either way, this fast train must be boarded.

“Mikhail, I never expected you to have such faith in our cause,” Nekrasov said after hearing Mikhail’s words, his eyes suddenly blazing with excitement:

“I see now—I should’ve realized this from our earlier conversation! You care deeply about this cause, you’re troubled by it too. You’re surely worried whether the ‘Naturalist’ movement, this tide focused on Russia’s social reality and the lower classes, can truly transform our literary world, aren’t you?”

“That’s why you want to join—not just to submit your own work, but to personally select suitable manuscripts, so our anthology can truly become a powerful force in literature, right?”

Mikhail: “???”

No, I just wanted to earn a few coins to eat meat, put on some weight, and survive the winter.

“No.”

Before Mikhail could explain, Nekrasov, growing more enthusiastic, interrupted:

“Thank you, Mikhail! I understand your meaning completely. Welcome to this cause! I’ve been working tirelessly on this—I’ve already contacted some unknown minor authors, asking them to write what I wanted, and some have already delivered.

Though far inferior to your work, I’m certain they’ll still bring a fresh breeze to Russian literature.

Here’s what I propose, Mikhail: I’ll handle all the contacts; you focus solely on writing—produce works destined to be etched into Russian history! In your spare time, just review the manuscripts I bring you—see if they’re usable, or give them feedback and direction. They’ll be grateful to you!”

“As for royalties, don’t worry, Mikhail. Even if you don’t care much about money, I swear by God—I won’t shortchange you. Though I still can’t say how far our anthology will go, if you truly join, it fills me with renewed confidence!”

Mikhail: “???”

You just rattled off everything I meant to say—what’s left for me to say?

After a quick mental review, though slightly embarrassed, Mikhail finally extended his hand to Nekrasov:

“Let’s discuss the details later. For now, Nikolai—deal.”

“Deal!” Nekrasov, thrilled, immediately grasped Mikhail’s hand:

“For our shared cause!”

(End of Chapter)