Ten Day Ultimatum

Seeing that Qi Xia had no more tricks up his sleeve, Zhang Shan immediately charged forward with large strides.

Qi Xia didn’t hesitate. He shoved two nearby chairs in front of him, creating a makeshift barrier between them.
Zhang Shan, tall and sturdy but already sluggish from his injuries, stumbled as the chairs obstructed his path, nearly losing his balance.
A dragon forced to fight on land faces destitution.[1]

Qi Xia sprinted forward, using one of the chairs as a stepping stone to leap into the air. Before Zhang Shan could steady himself, Qi Xia had already slammed into him with full force. He knew Zhang Shan wasn’t like Specs or Ole Lu—intimidation alone wouldn’t work on this guy. Without hesitation, Qi Xia straddled Zhang Shan and threw a punch at his face before the man could react.
Zhang Shan instinctively raised his arms to guard his chin and sides, narrowing his eyes as he peered through the gaps in his defense. With practiced precision, he braced himself, enduring Qi Xia's relentless barrage by predicting the direction of each punch.
Qi Xia’s fists pounded against Zhang Shan’s arms, which felt as unyielding as stone.

“You punk... you’re asking for it!”
In the brief moment Zhang Shan spoke, Qi Xia exploited the opening, driving his fist through the guard and landing a clean hit on his opponent's nose.
But Zhang Shan was ready. He trapped Qi Xia's fist between his arms, locking it in place. With a sharp movement, Zhang Shan twisted Qi Xia’s arm aside, using ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) the momentum to fling him off. Qi Xia tumbled away as Zhang Shan broke free from the hold.

“I really underestimated you...” Zhang Shan muttered, rising to his feet and brushing the dust from his clothes. “Were you some kind of hitman before you came here, punk? Who fights like that?”
Qi Xia also scrambled up, his expression grim as he panted for breath. He had thrown everything into that attack, yet Zhang Shan looked barely fazed.
“Hey, hey, hey!!” Specs hurried over, voice full of panic. “Why are you two fighting like this? Calm down for a second...”

“I can’t calm down anymore.” Zhang Shan let out an angry laugh. “I have to beat this punk until he’s sincerely convinced and ready to concede.”
Before Qi Xia could come up with another plan, Zhang Shan had already shoved the chairs aside and charged, his thick, pillar-like arm swinging straight at Qi Xia’s face.
Just as the blow was about to land, Qiao Jiajin stepped in and hooked Zhang Shan's arm.

“Buff lou, you can’t hit him.”
Seeing his strike thwarted, Zhang Shan applied more force, only to find that the slender, tattooed man before him was surprisingly strong—he couldn’t move his arm.
“Great, another one sticking their nose in.” Zhang Shan snorted coldly. “Why can’t I hit him?”

“Because he’s my brain.” Qiao Jiajin replied with a disarming smile. “If you damage his head, we’ll both end up idiots.”
“He’s your brain?” Zhang Shan repeated, intrigued by the stranger. “Then what are you?”
“Me?...” Qiao Jiajin released Zhang Shan’s grip and slipped off his jacket, revealing full sleeve tattoos and well-defined muscles. “If you want an answer… I’m his fists.”
Zhang Shan raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Then I’ll test these fists myself.”

Zhang Shan assumed a boxing stance, guarding his chin with one arm. Using the momentum from a forward step and a twist of his waist, he launched a powerful punch at Qiao Jiajin.
Qiao Jiajin bent forward to evade the fist, closing the distance rapidly. He retaliated with a sharp uppercut from his right hand.
Zhang Shan tilted his head to dodge, adjusting his stance. He raised his right hand to block and widened the distance between them.

After a quick exchange, both fighters recognized each other's skill and experience.
The realization lasted barely half a second before Zhang Shan advanced and threw a heavy punch with his left hand.
This time, Qiao Jiajin didn’t evade. He seized Zhang Shan’s arm, leaped into the air, and rotated 180 degrees. As he descended, he hooked his foot around Zhang Shan’s neck, pulling him to the ground with his weight.

Pinning Zhang Shan’s arm between his thighs, Qiao Jiajin yanked it back with both hands. His feet searched for optimal placement—one pressing down on Zhang Shan’s neck, the other poised over his chest.
Zhang Shan, briefly stunned, quickly recognized the maneuver. It was a standard ground technique in mixed martial arts—the Cross Armlock. If Qiao Jiajin fully extended his arm, Zhang Shan would be forced to submit.
Acting fast, Zhang Shan interlocked his right hand with his left, fingers tightening. This prevented Qiao Jiajin from straightening his arm completely.

Zhang Shan was baffled that a seemingly scruffy thug could execute such a textbook move. Luckily, he had some wrestling background. Though he couldn’t escape the armlock, he resisted losing full control.
Seeing Zhang Shan’s left hand locked in place, Qiao Jiajin pressed his foot against Zhang Shan’s right arm, pushing with his leg strength to pry his hands apart.
By now, Zhang Shan was drenched in sweat. His interlocked fingers held, but only barely.

Moments later, his grip broke. His left arm was instantly stretched straight, and a wave of pain made him howl in agony.
But Zhang Shan quickly adapted, leveraging his towering frame and reach. He twisted his body, throwing a powerful punch at Qiao Jiajin’s stomach with his right hand.
Qiao Jiajin retracted the leg pressing Zhang Shan’s neck, raising it to block the strike with his knee.

Zhang Shan unleashed a barrage of punches with his right fist. Qiao Jiajin could only defend, continuously blocking with his knee.
There were two keys to executing a proper Cross Armlock: firmly control the opponent's arm, and use both legs to press down on their neck and chest.
To defend against Zhang Shan’s counters, Qiao Jiajin had to retract one leg, giving Zhang Shan the chance to rise.

Seizing the moment, Zhang Shan wrenched his left arm free and rolled to his feet, ready to pin down the grounded Qiao Jiajin.
But Qiao Jiajin reacted fast, extending his right foot to block Zhang Shan’s advance.
Unable to close the gap, Zhang Shan resorted to a furious barrage of punches with both fists.

Qiao Jiajin, maintaining his guard, blocked with his arms while keeping distance using his leg.
Waiting for his moment, Qiao Jiajin’s raised leg suddenly descended, delivering a sharp kick to Zhang Shan’s calf.
Zhang Shan staggered, off balance once again. Qiao Jiajin exploited the opening, swiftly moving behind him. Wrapping his right arm around Zhang Shan’s neck, he clasped his left hand over his right, securing a Rear Naked Choke and dragging them both to the ground.

But as he tightened the choke, Qiao Jiajin sensed something was wrong. Zhang Shan had slipped a hand between the choke and his neck, blocking it.
Although Zhang Shan prevented the full choke, he was still trapped. His hand was pinned, unable to break free from Qiao Jiajin’s hold.
The two were locked in a stalemate, neither overpowering the other.

“Hey… Buff lou…” Qiao Jiajin growled through clenched teeth. “Want to admit defeat? Call me ‘godfather’ and I’ll let you go…”
“Fuck that! Even if lǎozi dies in your hands, lǎozi won’t admit defeat…” Zhang Shan hissed back, his muscles taut as he struggled to break free. But Qiao Jiajin’s grip remained firm, leaving Zhang Shan unable to exploit any openings.