Beat Him Up

Cecil laughed for a full minute before finally stopping.

Then he leaned close to Li Qiwei and said in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Oh, by the way, let me share some bad news with you."

"In a few days, the Eight-Nation Alliance will attack the Qing Empire again."

"I'd love to go see your country get trampled."

Li Qiwei's expression turned cold, his brow furrowing. He had almost forgotten about this.

The historically famous Eight-Nation Alliance invasion of China was supposed to start around May of this year.

As the grandson of Britain's current Prime Minister, Cecil might well know about it.

Though Li Qiwei had no fondness for the Qing Dynasty himself, and his attitude toward this war was hard to pin down.

No matter how you looked at it, the ones who would suffer in the end were ordinary Huaxia commoners.

Those in power would come out unscathed—even if land was ceded and reparations paid, it would all be passed down to the people.

At the same time, the thought of countless precious cultural relics being lost or looted in the war made his heart ache.

There was no helping it. The weak got trampled.

He was just a fragile time-traveler, powerless to resist the tide of history.

Even if he went back right now, he couldn't change a thing.

But he could take out his anger on this annoying bastard in front of him.

Seeing Li Qiwei's face twist, Cecil thought he had struck a nerve.

Smug with satisfaction, he was thrilled to finally see Li Qiwei at a loss.

So he kept laughing mockingly, and finally spat out viciously:

"When we break your capital again this time,"

"We'll kill all the men and turn all the women into whores. Your country will never rise again."

"You pathetic mongrel!"

Li Qiwei was already boiling with rage, and these words lit the fuse completely.

His fury erupted like a volcano.

"Fuck your mother!"

Li Qiwei cursed in Chinese, grabbed the leftover wine from the table, and splashed it all over Cecil's face.

As the other man yelped, he kicked out hard, sending Cecil sprawling face-first onto the floor.

For a moment, everyone around was stunned, frozen in place.

Raymond and the others hadn't even processed what happened before they saw Cecil on the ground, wailing in pain.

Even Wilson stood there dumbfounded, at a loss.

What the hell—how did it come to blows?

And the one getting beaten was the grandson of Britain's current Prime Minister.

Li Qiwei didn't give a damn. Strike while the iron was hot.

He stepped forward, straddled Cecil, and rained down a flurry of punches on his head.

Cecil curled up, crying and screaming for help.

That finally snapped Wilson out of it. He rushed over to pull Li Qiwei away.

"Calm down, Bruce. Keep hitting him and something bad will happen."

"Fighting will get you expelled."

By then, Raymond and the others hurried over too, but none of them dared lay a hand on Li Qiwei.

They were terrified.

They never expected this Qing man to be so brutish and unreasonable, attacking in public with zero gentlemanly conduct.

Raymond didn't dare touch Li Qiwei either. Instead, he grabbed Cecil tightly, trying to separate them.

Today, Cecil had provoked the fight partly to stand up for him.

But Raymond alone knew that Li Qiwei wasn't some weakling you could push around—he was a ruthless bastard.

Both sides tugged at their own men, trying to stop the conflict.

Li Qiwei didn't stop until he was tired, then finally let Wilson's persuasion pull him back.

Panting heavily, he still shouted at Cecil:

"If you ever badmouth me again, I'll beat you every time I see you."

"Get lost!"

By then, Cecil was struggling to his feet with help from the others.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his face swollen and misshapen, as he pointed a trembling finger.

"Damn it! B-Bruce, you just wait."

"I'll ruin you, make sure you're kicked out of Cambridge for good."

Cecil had never suffered such humiliation, but the beating had hurt too badly for him to retaliate on the spot.

As the Grandson of the Prime Minister, he prided himself on being a gentleman—there was no way he'd stoop to a brawler's level and make a scene in public.

What he didn't realize was that Li Qiwei had counted on him not daring to fight back, striking first and asking questions later.

After all, Li Qiwei had right on his side and no fear of losing face.

If things really blew up, Cecil's Prime Minister Grandfather wouldn't have an easy time of it either.

At that moment, Cecil's eyes were bloodshot, fixed on Li Qiwei with murderous intent.

He swore he'd pull every string, pay any price, to have Li Qiwei pack his bags and get out.

Raymond, propping Cecil up, stole a glance at Li Qiwei.

He hadn't lifted a finger just now, silently praying he wouldn't get dragged into it.

Wilson, on the other hand, felt a surge of satisfaction—more exhilarating than the drinks he'd downed.

Damn the privileged!

It was you lot hoarding Britain's capital, keeping the rest of us from living decent lives.

In that moment, Wilson, standing in for the poor, nursed a deep hatred for the ruling class.

Everyone's thoughts ran in different directions, but Li Qiwei was as calm as ever.

After thrashing Cecil, no one would dare bully a Huaxia person so easily again.

As for whether the guy would retaliate, Li Qiwei couldn't care less.

As long as he didn't stir up a crowd's wrath, he wouldn't become a target.

Britain wasn't a united front inside anyway.

The Prime Minister might hold power, but it wasn't absolute—plenty of people couldn't care less about him.

Besides, once his paper was published, with his reputation, he was sure he could hold his own against some third-generation wastrel.

So Li Qiwei laid down his own threat:

"Trash. I'm waiting for your revenge."

Then he shot a glance at Raymond, who flinched and quickly looked down.

Finally, under the stunned gaze of the crowd, both sides left the Eagle Bar one after the other.

Within moments, the bar buzzed with heated discussion.

By tomorrow morning, this explosive news would spread across all of Cambridge University.

On the way back to the lab, Wilson sighed loudly on the surface, but inside he was gloating.

"Ah, drinking really does lead to trouble. I need to cut back."

"Bruce, you've got a hell of a temper. After class tomorrow, just come to the lab and study with me."

"I'm worried you'll stir up more trouble."

"Still, that Cecil had it coming."

"We slave away day and night on research, while he enjoys the fruits without lifting a finger."

"..."

Li Qiwei ignored Wilson's rambling.

He only felt refreshed, mixed with a trace of sorrow.

Who among these people could truly understand what was in his heart right now?

Even if he beat up a hundred Cecils, or even his Prime Minister Grandfather, what difference would it make?

It still wouldn't change what the people in that suffering nation, thousands of miles away, had to endure.

Letting the cold wind whip his face, Li Qiwei silently resolved to change his own fate and that of Huaxia.

One day, sooner or later, he'd make Cecil kneel and apologize.

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