The wind subsided, and everyone steadied the cart once more, continuing forward.
As the cart gradually advanced, drawing closer to the finish line, the *Wǔqǔ* mechanism kept spinning, and Qiao Jiajin continuously adjusted his steps, turning his body in sync with it. The man and the wooden box seemed like true adversaries, each seeking the perfect moment to dismantle the other’s moves.
Qiao Jiajin knew that a high-speed iron ball would be fatal to anyone. If he made even the slightest mistake, those in the distance would undoubtedly be injured. At first glance, this game appeared to be about speed, but upon closer thought, cooperation was the key to ensuring everyone’s survival. The moment someone died, the team would begin to collapse.
“Brother Qiao… watch out!” Ning Shiba called. “We’re almost there.”
“Got it!” Qiao Jiajin flexed his throbbing left elbow, suspecting he might have injured a tendon or bone. “Seems like relying on sight alone isn’t enough.”
This time, he refined his approach, extending his hand forward, reaching beneath the opening of the mechanism. No matter which direction the iron ball would fly, his palm would be the first to intercept it.
“My reflexes are faster than my thoughts…” Qiao Jiajin murmured to himself. “Rather than wasting time thinking, I should just let my body decide.”
Slowly, he closed his eyes, bringing his fingertips closer to *Wǔqǔ*.
“Everything in this world has its own heartbeat.” His fingers twitched slightly as they pressed against the underside of the mechanism’s opening. “A machete has a machete’s heartbeat, an iron rod has an iron rod’s heartbeat. A wooden contraption this complex must have its own heartbeat too.”
Sure enough, the moment his fingers made contact, he clearly detected the faint tremors within.
It was an intricate mechanism, far more sophisticated than he had imagined. As the subtle vibrations traveled through his fingertips, the opponent before him seemed to come alive.
“Your heartbeat’s quickening,” Qiao Jiajin said with a grin, opening his eyes. “*Wǔqǔ*, are you about to strike?”
The moment the words left his lips, *Wǔqǔ* violently ejected a black iron ball. The instant it shot out, it met Qiao Jiajin’s palm. Abandoning all thought, he relied purely on instinct, rotating his hand 180 degrees. The force behind the ball was instantly halved, and as its momentum sharply diminished, Qiao Jiajin delivered a downward chopping motion, slamming the ball straight into the ground.
**Boom!!**
A crisp, thunderous impact echoed as the ice shattered and even the wooden floor beneath cracked.
Ning Shiba, standing at a higher vantage point, was left utterly speechless, her mouth agape.
What shocked her wasn’t merely that this man could block the iron ball—it was how rapidly he was evolving. Each time, he drew closer to *Wǔqǔ*, handling the ball with increasing speed and precision.
“*Wǔqǔ*…” Qiao Jiajin exhaled deeply, his voice low. “I think I’m getting used to it… I’m adapting to your moves.”
The others snapped out of their daze and hurriedly adjusted the cart’s direction. They had no idea how much longer Qiao Jiajin could hold out—all they could do was buy as much time as possible.
“Hurry!”
Reaching the end of the track, they worked together to spin the cart around. As they completed the turn, Ning Shiba spoke up again, “Brother Qiao, we—”
“No need,” Qiao Jiajin cut her off. “Stargazer, from now on, just focus on sitting tight. Don’t say a word. The rest of you, just keep pushing.”
“W-what…?”
“Didn’t I say?” Qiao Jiajin turned back with a simple, earnest smile. “Just pretend *Wǔqǔ* doesn’t exist. I’ll handle everything alone.”
“R-really?” Ning Shiba asked, disbelief in her voice. “You’re so close to it. Even a single blink could leave you seriously hurt.”
“Even if I close my eyes, it won’t matter,” Qiao Jiajin replied. “Lord Guan’s giving me face. His *Wǔqǔ* is just sparring with me—it won’t take my life.”
The group exchanged uneasy glances. Though a hundred worries still gnawed at them, all they could muster was: “Be careful, Brother Qiao.”
“Will do.”
As they began moving forward again, Qiao Jiajin placed his fingertips on the wooden mechanism once more. This time, the heartbeat he sensed was even clearer than before.
The intricate patterns inside, the rolling of the iron ball, the tension of the springs—he could perceive the contours of it all.
“Come on…” he murmured. “Make your move.”
Slowly, he closed his eyes, positioning his right palm face-up beneath the opening.
“Qiao—” Ning Shiba, seeing the distance close, was about to warn him when Bai Jiu stopped her.
“Let it go, Shiba. Leave it to Brother Qiao.”
With a reluctant nod, Ning Shiba swallowed her concern.
When the fourth iron ball shot out, its angle was noticeably different. Qiao Jiajin immediately shifted his hand a fraction, catching it once more. He repeated his earlier maneuver, flipping his palm, but this time, his movement was a fraction slower. The ball’s momentum wasn’t fully dissipated, and it shot toward his body at terrifying speed.
Forced to react, he raised his left hand, redirecting the ball’s path just before it could strike his chest. With both hands positioned like opposing forces—yin and yang—he rolled the ball between them, softening its impact before finally stabilizing it and letting it drop to the ground.
“My thanks,” Qiao Jiajin said.
As the dust settled, he extended his hand toward *Wǔqǔ* once more. The sight even gave Dì Mǎ pause.
*Should I revise the rules?* she wondered. *Maybe… no one is allowed within a meter of the wooden boxes.*
But she quickly dismissed the thought as absurd. *Would I really make a rule just for this tattooed man?*
Under normal circumstances, who would dare get this close to the mechanisms? Once you knew they could eject deadly projectiles, shouldn’t you stay as far away as possible?
“Ridiculous… utterly ridiculous…” Dì Mǎ clenched her teeth, suddenly recalling her own time as a participant.
Many, many years ago, there had been another game where someone defied the mechanisms with sheer physical prowess.
Back then, a man had stood before a contraption, adopting a Muay Thai stance.
But she had been too terrified then, focused solely on fleeing and survival. She couldn’t remember his voice or his face.
*Why does the Land of the End always have people like this?*
The next three iron balls were, unsurprisingly, intercepted by Qiao Jiajin, each landing harmlessly at his feet.
What should have been a round with an exceptionally high fatality rate was effortlessly dismantled by one man, who emerged without a scratch.
Qiao Jiajin glanced down, counting the five iron balls at his feet, then looked into the distance at the two others. Only then did he realize the second round was over.
And the cart-pushing team had safely returned Ning Shiba to the starting point without a single casualty.
Seeing this, Qiao Jiajin turned back to *Wǔqǔ*, clasped his hands respectfully, and bowed.
“Second Brother is benevolent.”
As if in response, *Wǔqǔ* trembled slightly—like a nod—before retracting and settling back into silence.
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