The Shadow of Great Britain

Capítulo 1400: Chapter 208: Russian Old Beijing (Part 2)

Though Bichulin could understand Arthur’s curiosity, he couldn’t help but think that this British diplomat had a bit of a screw loose.

Regardless of the issue with those Chinese characters earlier, even if he told Arthur where the missionary group was located now, would this guy even know where that place was?

However, out of politeness, Bichulin still answered honestly: “We all live within Anding Gate, between Yonghe Palace and Dongzhimen at the Eastern Orthodox Church. It’s relatively quiet there, and the Russian caravans usually enter and exit through Dongzhimen, so living there makes it convenient to connect with them.”

At this point, Bichulin took a slight breath, as if trying to dispel the coldness on his lips.

He rubbed his frostbitten red hands, nostalgic tones in his voice as the lively scenes of the past came to mind: “The caravans outside Anding Gate were constant all year round, and those furs, spices, and teas seemed to have grown feet as they flowed in and out…”

Arthur muttered: “The residence is close to Yonghe Palace? No wonder you understand not only Sinology but also Tibetan and Mongolian studies. I remember there were quite a number of lamas living there, right?”

With these words, Arthur now took Bichulin by surprise.

“You… have you also lived nearby?”

“No, no… don’t misunderstand.” Arthur paused: “My tutor once accompanied Earl Amherst’s mission on a visit to Beijing.”

To enhance his credibility, Arthur added: “The 21st year of Emperor Jiaqing.”

“Oh, oh!” Bichulin patted his forehead: “I almost forgot, your tutor seemed to have worked in the East India Company, right?”

He counted on his fingers: “The 21st year of Emperor Jiaqing, I was still in China then. I went there in the 13th year of Jiaqing, and was summoned back to St. Petersburg the year Emperor Jiaqing passed away.”

Arthur cautiously inquired: “I heard from Mr. Pushkin that your recall was due to religious issues?”

Unexpectedly, Bichulin had no intention to conceal anything about it: “Actually, the religious issue was secondary. I know, Mr. Pushkin probably told you that because I’m an atheist, I wasn’t committed to the missionary work, and plus, I made some radical comments which angered the Emperor. But in fact…”

“Radical comments? What did you say?”

Bichulin stared at Arthur for a long time, not answering directly, but instead asked: “Is your faith firm?”

“Of course.” Arthur replied with a serious face: “I am a devout Christian, how can you insult me like this? You should know, last year, due to orders from His Majesty the King and the Cabinet, I just converted from Catholicism to the British National Church.”

Bichulin almost couldn’t help but laugh at his words: “Apologies, then I must notify you in advance, what I say next may offend your beliefs.”

“I swear to God, you better not do that.”

Lowering his voice, Bichulin whispered by Arthur’s ear: “I simply said that I think Jesus and Confucius are not so different after all.”

After speaking, Bichulin sneakily opened the “Bible” in his hand, displaying it to Arthur.

At first, Arthur didn’t notice anything amiss, but upon closer inspection, he immediately realized that Bichulin’s “Bible” contained hidden surprises.

Though the Sir wasn’t usually concerned with religious matters, he at least remembered that the first sentence of the “Bible” should be—In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

And not—To study and at due times practice what one has studied, is this not a pleasure? To have friends come from afar, is this not a joy? To remain unperturbed even when others do not understand you, is this not the mark of a gentleman?

Bichulin coughed, then tucked the “Bible” back under his arm: “You know, the work at the office is dull, I always have to find something to do for myself.”

“Boring work aside, but this is what you do when you’re bored?”

Perhaps it was because Arthur was introduced by Pushkin, and also seemed to be a slightly unhinged Brit, that Bichulin felt quite open in front of him, even unabashedly sharing such a secret that might lead to a second exile.

Bichulin nodded in deep agreement: “To be honest, I do this every day. Sneaking in readings of ‘Analects’ during office hours, there is nothing more thrilling in the world.”

At Bichulin’s words, Arthur was momentarily speechless, even more so than when he uncovered Hugo’s hobbies.

The good-hearted British agent thought for a long time before saying a rare sincere thing: “What you’re doing is really too risky. How about this, I still have some novels by Eld Carter stored up, are you interested?”

‘The Corrosion-Resistant’ Bichulin gently shook his head, his greatest love in life was reciting scriptures, he had very little interest in popular novels.

Born in Russia, he would have been a priest.

Born in India, he would have been a guru.

Born in the Ottoman Empire, he would have been an imam.

Had he been born in the Eastern Earth Great Tang, even if not Jianzhen crossing the sea, he would have been Tang Seng journeying for scriptures.

But unfortunately, the disciples who should have been under his tutelage, like the Monkey King and the early-bald Sha Monk, were still floating somewhere unknown in South America.

Luckily, however, he managed to encounter that pig from Yorkshire.

Bichulin laughed heartily and said: “Rest assured, my superiors typically don’t take things seriously with me, as long as it doesn’t reach the Tsar, nothing big happens. Besides, I always believed that the punishment last time was primarily due to economic matters.”

Arthur asked in surprise: “You have economic issues?”

No matter which way he looked, he couldn’t figure out where an expatriate missionary could be corrupting funds.