Brawl

  All the way driving to Badaling, Fei Li leaned on Yi Chen's body and asked Fatadi with great interest: "I've also heard that the Great Wall is so magnificent, is it really a huge building? How high is it? One hundred meters? Two hundred meters?"

  Fatah Dio deliberately teased: "Haha, you'll know when you see it. Yi, there's a great saying in China: 'If one hasn't been to the Great Wall, he can't be considered a good man.' In other words, if someone hasn't been to the Great Wall in his lifetime, then he can't be considered a true hero among Chinese people." Fatah Dio slyly added "among Chinese people", and Yi Dust smiled silently.

  A group of people were riding in four new Audi models with special license plates. Fata Dio was afraid of running into another situation like the one with Long Fei, so he brought five Siberian bear-like bodyguards with him. Accompanying them on their trip was a small secretary from the Foreign Affairs Committee, who looked like she had just started working and didn't have much experience. However, she got along well with Jester, and the two of them chatted enthusiastically about heavy metal bands in the back seat.

  Sally, who was a bit hard to read even for Lian Yi, quietly followed Jester, her two lifeless eyes gazing out the window at the happy, self-assured and confident crowds flashing by.

  The four drivers of the cars were unwilling to go up, so they parked their vehicles and went off on their own. Fatadi and Yichun led a group of over ten people walking slowly towards the entrance.

  Yi Chen suddenly stopped, just now he had not noticed, he always thought that the so-called Great Wall was something similar to a medieval European castle, at most it would be a bit longer and bigger. But when he saw the golden giant dragon going through the mountains and clouds, for some reason, Yi Chen almost fell to his knees and cried out.

  Jester stood still, muttering to himself in a low voice: "Damn God, what the hell is this thing? Could this be a man-made building?" He grabbed his small secretary beside him and asked him: "This city wall, how long is it? Oh my god, this is too grand."

  Little Secretary Zhao proudly said: "The Great Wall of China is called the Ten Thousand Li Long Wall, so it must be ten thousand li long, which is more than six thousand kilometers."

  Jester rolled his eyes, and Fei Li exclaimed to Secretary Zhao: "When was it built?"

  Secretary Zhao became even more pleased with himself and chuckled: "As for the oldest one, I don't know, but at least it's been over two thousand years."

  Yi Chen had long been too lazy to say much to them, and pulled Fatadi up onto the city wall. Fatadi, who was weak from exhaustion, almost suffocated. Yi Chen gently stroked the huge bricks, saying in a low voice: "Is this the Great Wall?"

  The long wind blows by, and Yi Chen's long hair flies about. Gazing out at the vast lands to the north, a sense of solemn, ancient desolation arises spontaneously.

  Fatah also looked intoxicated, muttering in a low voice: "Dad said that the Chinese are the greatest nation in the world, this is definitely not wrong, Dad has never been wrong... The Great Wall stretching for thousands of miles, my god, dragging such huge stones to build such a magnificent wall in the mountains and valleys, what a terrible nation."

  Yi Chen's true yuan force slightly dispersed outward, and his forehead felt a chill. A vast and powerful energy, millions of times stronger than his own star power, surged in. Some blurry images flashed by like a movie, some indistinct voices streaked past like lightning, but that majestic aura, which had long faded with the passage of time yet still deeply imprinted on this space, the heroic spirit of fighting to the death for one's country and nation, deeply moved Yi Chen's heart.

  The thorough humiliation and pain of being expelled from the sect, the hard struggle to survive in desperation in England, the excitement of reuniting with fellow disciples, the desolation of having no sense of belonging to one's own nation for years, all intertwined, Yī Chén quietly savored the remnants of these tragic auras on the Great Wall.

  Two teardrops fell silently, then were quietly evaporated by Yidun's true yuan force. The Great Wall seemed like a real dragon, and the aura left behind by the warriors who had fought near it was its soul. Yidun and the Great Wall's soul communicated silently, as if communicating with his own father and brother in the deepest part of their hearts, at the bottom layer of their bloodline, where the most sacred and inviolable emotions resided.

  "Am I proud? There's a bit left, what's left is... Maybe I can understand why the old man and his wife have lived in London for so long and still miss their hometown. It turns out that even though I've obtained British nationality, deep down inside, I'm not really British, I have another name."

  Secretary Zhao took Phil and Jester to take photos, while Yi Chen and Fatadio strolled along the city wall. Phil, Goll and Fatadio's bodyguards kept a distance that allowed them to look after Yi Chen while also keeping an eye on Phil's side without disturbing either party. Phil and the others wisely did not follow Yi Chen closely at this moment.

  Fatao exaggeratedly spread his hands and said: "Yi, how do you feel? I saw you crying just now. Ah ha, many overseas Chinese people are like you when they return to China and see this big guy."

  Yi Chen smiled and said: "I feel very relieved now, all along, I couldn't figure out what kind of person I am, what I want to do, I was confused about the past and the future... Now, although I still can't figure out what I want to do, at least I know what kind of person I am, at least I know that deep down in my soul, I've always been a Chinese. Although I don't understand China's history, it can be learned, right?"

  The knot with the teacher's door was untied, and under such a bright sunshine, I saw the magnificent architecture with such a majestic momentum. Yidun's heart was exceptionally broadened, and many problems that had not been thought through before were solved as if they were cut by a hot knife through butter.

  Fatadi nodded repeatedly: "Yes, Yi, you really should learn more about the deeds of your predecessors. At least, you should know what kind of heroic figures China has had... Just like our Russia, ahah, Peter the Great, Queen Yekaterina, and the great Lenin, they are all our pride."

  "Ahah, dear Fattadio, so if you had to choose between great China and beloved Russia, which side would you choose?"

  Fatadiou thought for a moment, nodded and said: "China and Russia are both great powers. Perhaps in history and now, we Russians are not as good as China, but just like China is your motherland, Russia is my motherland. No matter how bad or broken it is, I still love my own country... I admire Chinese culture, but I love my own motherland even more. Isn't that so?"

  Yi Chen burst out laughing, laughed happily, and heavily patted Fattadio's shoulder, saying: "Yes, Russia is your motherland, China is my motherland... China... Hmm, descendants of Yan and Huang? I'm starting to like this name."

  The two of them walked along the city wall, laughing and chatting, with Fatadi's enthusiasm saying: "Yi, let's see if we can climb up to that high beacon tower in front of us. From above, looking at the scenery, and imagining the scene of hundreds of thousands of magnificent armies riding horses back and forth, killing each other, what a wonderful thing it is! I've always regretted why I wasn't born in the era of war, now I can only comfort myself in my imagination."

  Yi Chen smiled, and from behind came a burst of noise, mixed with the familiar "wah lah wah" sound of the Japanese language that Fatadiou could understand, but Yi Chen was not unfamiliar with.

  A girl in her early twenties, wearing a bright yellow suit and looking lovely, walked over with a small yellow flag in her hand. She was followed by more than ten middle-aged or elderly Japanese men in suits, chattering non-stop as they pointed at things. Apparently, it was a tour group, and the little girl in front was the guide.

  Fatadio slightly furrowed his brow and said in a low voice, "Let's go, these Japanese, damn it." It seems that the Russo-Japanese War left a deep impression on Fatadio.

  Yi Chen nodded and beckoned to Phil and others about ten meters away, preparing to continue climbing.

  A loud commotion erupted, and the tourists from various countries around them all let out a soft cry. An elderly Japanese man took off his black windbreaker to reveal a yellow hat with two flapping pieces of cloth on the back, which he put on. With his military uniform, he looked exactly like an old Imperial Japanese Army soldier from World War II. A group of Japanese people applauded and cheered loudly, while the tour guide grinned and raised his camera to take a flurry of shots of the elderly man.

  Fattario took a deep breath, feeling a bit worried and glanced at Yichun, fearing that he would suddenly lose his temper. But Yichun furrowed his brow and asked Fattario, "What's going on? The atmosphere around here seems to be off."

  Fatadi quickly said: "Nothing much, hmm, maybe it's just that this old man is wearing a very distinctive outfit."

  A group of students, seemingly on summer vacation to visit the Great Wall, suddenly walked up to a female tour guide who was taking pictures. A girl blocked her lens and said in not-so-fluent English: "Sorry, please don't take any more pictures."

  The female tour guide put down the camera in her hand, with a somewhat irate tone, and asked in standard Mandarin: "Why can't we take pictures? Is there something wrong with taking pictures?"

  Those Japanese who were laughing wildly collected their smiles and gradually gathered together. The old man in military uniform shouted in half-baked Chinese: "Miss, why don't you continue taking pictures? I want to relive the heroic spirit of the Great Japanese Imperial Army, continue taking pictures... Back then our troops broke through Shanhai Pass and took pictures too."

  A few male students walked towards the old man. The first one, a burly student who was suppressing his anger, said to the old man: "Sorry, this is the Great Wall, and it seems that you wearing such clothes for photos is too disrespectful to us."

  The onlookers gradually gathered around, some excited Chinese youths had already rolled up their sleeves in the crowd, while several elderly men who were furious and trembling all over stood in the crowd, fiercely pounding the ground with their canes and loudly shouting: "Beat them, beat them to death, these damn bastards."

  Yi Chen looked at Fattadio with a strange expression, and said somewhat unpleasantly: "Fattadio, dear Fattadio, is this what you call no problem?"

  Fatiao sighed and muttered to himself, "Good heavens, Chinese Yi, what kind of person are you? Don't you even know about the eight-year Sino-Japanese War in China? How am I supposed to explain?"

  At this time, I don't know what was said, the female tour guide suddenly shouted: "Ah, people have spent money, our travel agency will of course provide the best service. People just want to take two photos, you raise it to the height of national sentiment, geez, no wonder they call you guys angry youth." She raised her camera and pushed away the female student, making a gesture as if she was going to continue taking pictures.

  A young man rushed out of the crowd, slammed his camera to the ground with a loud slap, and began cursing in Mandarin mixed with a southern accent: "I fuck your mother, bitch, you were born a cheap goods."

  A Japanese man rushed over, pushing the young man's chest with one hand. As a result, both sides lost control of their emotions and a group of people started fighting on the Great Wall. The female tour guide stood aside, shouting anxiously: "Mr. Yamai, be careful with your body! What's the point of arguing with these people?"

  Foreign tourists around dodged, strange eyes staring at the female tour guide. Other Chinese people nearby shouted: "Come on, come on, come on... Kill the little dog day." From time to time, cold fists and kicking legs flew out from the crowd.

  "Tell me the reason, dear Fattadio," said Easy coldly. "What's with that military uniform? Otherwise, I'll throw you down from here."

  "OK, dear Yi, about sixty years ago, Japan invaded China and killed around thirty million Chinese people. In Nanjing, a single massacre killed three hundred thousand Chinese people. In Northeast China, the Japanese used Chinese people as test subjects for biochemical weapons. China and Japan have been sworn enemies ever since. So when I was in London, I was shocked that you were working with the Yamaguchi-gumi. You know, even among Chinese gangs, it's rare to collaborate with Japanese."

  Yi Chen didn't react in time: "Thirty million? The army?"

  Fatima said bluntly: "Three thousand million casualties, civilians, almost one-tenth of China's total population at that time. And now the Japanese are still shouting to re-occupy China, I have always been very curious, are you growing up in a Shangri-La-like paradise? Otherwise, a Chinese person, even if it is a treacherous Chinese tour guide girl like her, would not be unaware of that period of Chinese history... The most tragic period in Chinese history."

  The crowd that was fighting gradually separated into winners and losers. The old man from the mountain temple had several skilled martial artists as his bodyguards, so how could those students and young people who relied on their bravery to fight be a match for them? People rushed over from the city walls near and far, shouting loudly about something, and it seemed that the situation was about to get out of control.

  The camera that had just fallen to the ground was picked up by a student, who smashed it with great force. The Japanese person he was aiming at dodged, and the student's foot kicked him in the stomach instead. A faint stream of red flowed from the student's mouth as he collapsed to the ground. Several nearby Chinese people rushed forward again.

  The camera suddenly flew towards Yī Chén, heavily hitting his forehead. Féi Lì, who had just arrived, let out a scream and rushed over. Yī Chén's body was protected by the True Yuan Force, so he didn't feel any pain, but this heavy blow caused the evil fire that had been accumulating in his Dào Dé Zōng to burst out violently. With a flying kick, the waist of the nearest Japanese old man cracked loudly, and his body flew five meters away, bending at an odd angle as he fell to the ground, wailing in agony.

  Yi Chen said coldly: "These people wearing black suits are Japanese, right? Beat them until their ancestors don't recognize them."

  Yi Chen was very angry, originally, in the eyes of Fatadiou, a great Russian nationalist, he was such an unbearable person in some ways? Perhaps Fatadiou himself did not realize this, but Yi Chen's sensitive heart deeply felt it.

  Jester let out a loud whoop and charged forward, his fists flying. He didn't care about anyone else's life or death, as long as they were wearing black suits. With two punches, he broke more than a dozen bones in their bodies, then kicked them flying.

  Ferguson charged forward with his massive body, and for those Japanese people, it was a bear hug. Amidst the sound of cracking bones, they let go of their hands, and afterwards that lucky guy also fell to the ground with a miserable cry.

  It seems that the police always arrive last, three or four plainclothes officers and seven or eight policemen finally pushed through the dense crowd to arrive at the scene. The people around whispered: "You guys, why don't you leave quickly?"

  The young people who were just fighting retreated into the crowd, and those students also left the scene under the cover of the crowd.

  The group of people who were seriously injured by Yi Chen became the most conspicuous target. A plainclothes policeman walked over, his face stern, and asked Yi Chen, "Sir, may I ask, was it you all who beat them up so badly?"

  Yi Chen looked at him with a cold and arrogant gaze, suddenly kicked up one foot, and sent the female tour guide who was loudly calling out while holding onto Shan Jing flying. The female tour guide spat out a mouthful of blood in mid-air, and then said nonchalantly: "That's right, it was my people who hurt them... Don't waste your breath, don't ask me for a reason, I couldn't explain why I suddenly wanted to beat them up badly either. I hold a British passport, these gentlemen are members of the Russian trade delegation, and it seems that as long as the people we hurt aren't Chinese, you have no right to arrest us."

  That plainclothes cop was getting a bit testy, pointing at the female tour guide and asking: "I couldn't care less about whether these Japanese people live or die, of course their embassy and the British Embassy will handle it, but what about her?"

  Yi Chen coldly asked him: "Her? I thought she was Japanese too, speaking all that Japanese."

  A burst of laughter erupted around her, with many people shouting loudly: "This woman is not Chinese, she's not worthy."

  Secretary Zhao finally arrived, quickly flashing his work permit, and whispered to several plainclothes officers and police for a moment. He then walked over with a smile and said: "Alright, it's fine now. They'll report to the Japanese embassy that the culprits were a few foreigners who have escaped. But we'd better leave here immediately."

  Yi Chen was a bit surprised at Secretary Zhao's handling, but thinking about it, why bother to get into trouble? The group hastily left the Great Wall.

  Several police officers beckoned to the people nearby for help to get these seriously injured people down, but as a result, the surrounding crowd dispersed with a loud noise. Who would be willing? Those foreign tourists shook their heads and walked away, whispering something, also having nothing to do with them.

  For some unknown reason, he was beaten up, and Yi Chen's heart was shrouded in new shadows, with some unexplained questions that he couldn't understand now. Maybe, he really needed to know more about things...