The foreigner gripped Feng Lu's arm tightly, his face a mask of extreme arrogance and indignation. There was nothing to be done about it. In his, Asol Dougriev's, view, he was a superior person from a developed country like the United Kingdom. Not to mention his surname, Doug Rif, was anything but ordinary. It was famous even in London, wielding immense power and influence!

Ever since Asol had set foot in Shanghai several years ago, he had been like a fish in water. Countless attractive Huaxia women, in his eyes, were easily captured with a mere flick of his finger or a flaunting of his family background and status. In a sleepless city like Shanghai, a place of debauchery shrouded in luxurious decadence and hedonism, there were indeed many such materialistic women. Their blind pursuit of wealth and the so-called 'high society' gave genuine, foreign-born, rich, and handsome men like Asol the perfect opportunity to exploit them.

Often, all it took was a casual flick of his finger for otherwise respectable Huaxia women to scramble over one another, crazily and 'voluntarily' throwing themselves into his arms. This reality had gradually inflated his confidence to the bursting point, making him believe all women in Huaxia were more or less the same. But now, he had actually been rejected by Feng Lu, again and again! How could he possibly be okay with that? To put it bluntly, he felt he was losing face! He was tarnishing the reputation of the rich and handsome gentlemen from London!

"Sir, please have some decency. I have no interest in you whatsoever, nor do I wish to be friends with a disgusting person like you. Now, please step aside. I don't want to speak with you any longer," Feng Lu said. Hearing such 'disgusting' words from him, the look of aversion on her face became even more pronounced as she spoke in an icy tone.

"Decency? Oh, miss, are you rejecting me, Asol? What's that supposed to mean? I just wanted to get your number, to be your friend! Don't you understand? I'm British, from London! And the Doug Rif family behind me is very famous in London, too! Just because I took the initiative to ask for your number, you think you're someone special...?" Asol's face darkened as he spoke, his voice turning harsh.

But just then, a young-looking hand landed strangely on his shoulder. Asol's expression instantly turned grim with fury.

"Who?! Get your filthy hand off my shoulder! Who the hell are you? Do you realize how rude that is!?" He didn't stop to wonder how a hand had suddenly appeared there; he only knew that it was incredibly irritating and displeasing. He whipped his head around, bellowing in a rage.

Behind him, Chen Fei had appeared at some unknown moment, his gaze fixed coldly on the foreigner.

"Since you know it's rude, why are you harassing my friend? And before that, shouldn't you let go of her with that paw of yours?" Chen Fei's gaze fell upon the man's hand still gripping Feng Lu's arm, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes. Then, the hand resting on the foreigner's shoulder pressed down, seemingly gently and without a trace of effort.

"What did you say?! Who do you think you are?! What gives you the right to criticize me, Asol— AHH! AHH! IT HURTS! IT'S KILLING ME! LET GO, FUCK! LET GO OF ME, QUICK!" The arrogant Asol was still trying to talk tough, but the moment Chen Fei's hand applied the slightest pressure to his shoulder, he started screaming like a pig being slaughtered.

"What was that? So this is what the so-called British are like? So uncivilized. My apologies, I'm a bit slow, and my memory isn't very good. What were you just saying? Did you want me to continue? Alright then, I'll continue." Chen Fei casually applied a little more force.

"I... I... you... let go! FUCK! Let me... Okay! Okay! I apologize! It's my fault, just please let go!" Seeing Chen Fei dare to mock him, Asol was tempted to keep up his tough act. However, the next second, he could no longer endure the excruciating pain in his shoulder, and fear quickly won out, making him change his tune mid-sentence.

"That's more like it. Hey, Brit-boy, how about I teach you something?" Chen Fei, Young Master Chen, finally released his grip with a faint smile. "It's best to keep a low profile when you're away from home. Low profile, you get me? Huaxia isn't your little British playground. Besides, we Huaxian people believe in divine retribution. People who are too arrogant tend to get what's coming to them, you know?" He then immediately slung an arm around the foreigner Asol in a chummy, 'buddy-buddy' manner. With his hand back on Asol's shoulder, Chen Fei leaned in and whispered with a smile.

To Asol, however, that laughter sounded eerily chilling. An inexplicable coldness crept into his heart, though he didn't know why.

But he quickly pushed the bizarre feeling to the back of his mind. His face contorted with rage, he glared at Chen Fei and snarled, "Who are you? Do you have any idea who I am? Who gave you the audacity to lay a hand on a British citizen?! Believe me, I'll sue you and have you thrown in jail!"

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