Years later, when Nabokov was lecturing on Russian literature in the United States, he proceeded in this way.

In the pitch-black room, he first turned on a corner lamp and declared, "Pushkin is the first shining light of Russian literature."

He then flicked on a central lamp and declared, "This is Gogol." He then turned

on another lamp and declared, "This is Chekhov."

Then, striding to the window, he forcefully ripped open the curtains, letting in the bright sunlight, and exclaimed, "This is Tolstoy!"

After calming down for a moment, a student raised their hand and asked, "Professor, what about the sky outside?"

"You know it without me telling you." Nabokov opened the window and gazed at the boundless sky:

"The source of the modern world! Both spiritually and physically!"

The immortal Mikhail Romanovich Raskolnikov! "

Simplified version: Back to the winter of 1843 in Russia, Mikhail gradually became a Russian literary giant and even the spiritual leader of the entire European continent.

This book is also known as: "The Years I Diagnosed Diseases in Russia", "You Don't Even Dare to Diagnose Diseases? Then You Are Not a Literary Giant!"

PS: This is an external author, please feel free to follow along.

Novel keywords: I am a Writer in Russia (no pop-up ads), I am a Writer in Russia (full text download), I am a Writer in Russia (latest chapter reading)

My name is Leo Wallace, a PhD student in history, and I'm $137,542.89 in debt. In the darkest moment of my life, I lost my job because I criticized a tech giant called "Omni" online, and they "optimized" my employment. I thought my life was going to be a classic Chinese comedy, until an intruder popped into my head. He said his name was Franklin Roosevelt—yes, the one on the 10-cent coin. "Kid, stop criticizing online, it's useless." "Want to mess with them? I'll teach you." "Our first step is to become mayor." And so, I, a keyboard warrior who couldn't even find a job, embarked on a magical path to running for president under his guidance. Wait, Mr. President, are you sure this Second Bill of Rights... isn't really going to...

"Don't go out after dark. There have been a lot of fake people showing up in the city lately," my brother—the infamous Rainy Night Butcher—warned with a serious expression.

"Your brother's right," Mom—the Original Fake Person—nodded with concern.

"Bro, can you pick me up after school? I’m a little scared." My little sister blinked at him. But in truth, she was an A-Rank Hero from the Hero Association.

"Your brother’s just recovered from a serious illness. Let him rest at home, I’ll go get you." My older sister, the Captain of the Night Watch from the Special Operations Bureau, took on the task.

Qiao Qingshan, who knew all his family’s identities, said nothing—he just kept fiddling with his phone.

And so, my peaceful daily life began...

"Due to the recent outbreak of fake person incidents, we interrupt this program to bring you an emergency notice from the Special Operations Bureau."

1. Fake people often take over the bodies of those who’ve just recovered from serious illnesses by using a technique called 'soul possession.' If someone who has just recovered begins acting strangely, pay close attention.

2. There are no such things as 'transmigrators' in this world. Anyone claiming to be a 'transmigrator' can be immediately classified as a fake person.

3. Fake people who claim to be 'transmigrators' are considered extremely dangerous. Do not trust any information they provide, including but not limited to emotional expressions, identity claims, or cries for help.

Faced with the suspicious looks from his family, Qiao Qingshan could only sigh.

Alright then... so much for my peaceful daily life.