Chapter 46: Two Tigers on One Mountain

Seeing that Qi Xia had no follow-up moves, he immediately took a big step forward and charged.

Without hesitation, Qi Xia pushed the two chairs beside him forward again, blocking the space between himself and Zhang Shan.

The tall and burly Zhang Shan was naturally a bit slow in his movements, and now, hindered by the two chairs, he nearly stumbled.

*”The dragon fights in the wild—its path is at an end.”*

Qi Xia took a running start, stepped onto a chair, and leaped into the air. Before Zhang Shan could steady himself, Qi Xia pounced on him, mounting him like a rider.

He knew Zhang Shan was fundamentally different from Little Glasses and Old Lü—there was no way mere intimidation would make him back down. So before Zhang Shan could react, Qi Xia rained down a flurry of punches aimed at his face.

Zhang Shan immediately curled his arms, shielding his chin and cheeks, while keeping his eyes locked on Qi Xia’s shoulders. By reading his opponent’s punches, he continuously blocked Qi Xia’s assault.

Qi Xia’s fists hammered against Zhang Shan’s arms like raindrops, but it felt like punching a solid wall.

*”Kid… you’re asking for death!”*

Seizing the moment Zhang Shan spoke, Qi Xia slipped a punch between his arms, aiming straight for his nose.

But Zhang Shan seemed to have anticipated it—he clamped his arms together, stopping Qi Xia’s fist dead in its tracks. Locking Qi Xia’s joint, he twisted his arm and flung him aside, breaking free from the hold.

*”I really underestimated you…”* Zhang Shan slowly got to his feet, brushing off the dust. *”Were you a damn killer before coming here? Who fights like this?”*

Qi Xia also stood up, his expression grim, panting heavily.

That all-out assault had been his last resort, yet Zhang Shan seemed completely unfazed.

*”Hey hey hey!!”* Little Glasses rushed forward, looking frantic. *”Why the hell are you two fighting all of a sudden? Calm down—”*

*”I can’t calm down,”* Zhang Shan growled with a furious grin. *”Today, I’m gonna beat this brat until he submits.”*

Before Qi Xia could think of another move, Zhang Shan sent the chairs flying and charged. His thick arm swung toward Qi Xia’s face like a battering ram.

At the last second, Qiao Jiajin hooked his arm, stopping him.

*”Big guy, you can’t hit him.”*

Zhang Shan, seeing himself blocked, increased his strength—only to find this lean, tattooed man shockingly strong. He couldn’t move an inch.

*”Another damn troublemaker,”* Zhang Shan scoffed. *”Why the hell can’t I hit him?”*

*”Because he’s my ‘brain,'”* Qiao Jiajin said with an innocent smile. *”If you smash his head, we’ll both turn stupid.”*

*”Your ‘brain’?”* Zhang Shan found this man intriguing. *”Then what the hell are you?”*

*”Me?”* Qiao Jiajin released Zhang Shan’s arm, took off his jacket, and revealed his tattoos and well-trained muscles. *”If I had to say… I’m his ‘fist.'”*

Zhang Shan raised an eyebrow. *”Interesting. Then I’ll test this ‘fist’ of yours.”*

With that, Zhang Shan dropped into a boxing stance—one arm guarding his chin, the other twisting with his hips as he launched a punch at Qiao Jiajin.

Qiao Jiajin ducked forward, dodging the strike while closing the distance. He swung an uppercut with his right hand.

Zhang Shan jerked his head back, narrowly avoiding it, then adjusted his stance, keeping his right hand forward to create space.

In that brief exchange, both men realized the other was no amateur.

Zhang Shan hesitated for only half a second before stepping in again, throwing a heavy left hook.

This time, Qiao Jiajin didn’t dodge—instead, he grabbed Zhang Shan’s arm, leapt into the air, and twisted his body, hooking a leg around Zhang Shan’s neck. Using his own weight, he yanked Zhang Shan to the ground.

He locked Zhang Shan’s arm between his thighs, pulling back while positioning his legs—one pressing on Zhang Shan’s neck, the other ready to pin his chest.

Zhang Shan was stunned for a moment but quickly recognized it—this was a classic MMA submission, the *armbar*. If Qiao Jiajin fully extended his arm, it was over.

Thinking fast, Zhang Shan clasped his right hand with his left, fingers interlocked, preventing Qiao Jiajin from straightening his arm.

He couldn’t fathom how this street-punk-looking guy could execute such a textbook move. Luckily, he had some grappling knowledge himself—though he hadn’t escaped the hold, he hadn’t lost yet.

Qiao Jiajin, finding Zhang Shan’s left arm unyielding, planted a foot against Zhang Shan’s right arm and pushed with his thigh, forcing their hands apart.

Zhang Shan was drenched in sweat—his grip, relying only on interlocked fingers, wasn’t strong enough.

Soon, his hands separated, and his left arm was yanked straight. A sharp pain made him cry out.

But his massive frame gave him an advantage—he twisted his body and drove his right fist into Qiao Jiajin’s stomach.

Qiao Jiajin retracted his right leg from Zhang Shan’s neck, blocking the strike with his knee.

Zhang Shan seemed to find an opening, relentlessly hammering at Qiao Jiajin with his right fist, forcing Qiao Jiajin to keep blocking with his knee.

For an *armbar* to work, two things were crucial: controlling the opponent’s arm and pinning their neck and chest with the legs.

But now, Qiao Jiajin had to retract his leg to defend, losing the leverage on Zhang Shan’s neck. Free from that restraint, Zhang Shan could rise.

With a violent jerk, he wrenched his left arm free and rolled over, trying to reverse the position and pin Qiao Jiajin.

Qiao Jiajin, seeing him break free, immediately extended his right leg, keeping Zhang Shan at bay.

Unable to close the distance, Zhang Shan threw punch after punch.

Qiao Jiajin shielded himself with his arms while using his right leg to maintain space.

Then, catching Zhang Shan off guard, Qiao Jiajin suddenly dropped his raised leg—kicking Zhang Shan’s shin hard.

Zhang Shan lost balance again, nearly falling. Seizing the moment, Qiao Jiajin sprang up, circled behind him, and wrapped his right arm around Zhang Shan’s neck. Locking his left hand behind his right arm for leverage, he jumped back, dragging them both down into a *rear-naked choke*.

But just as Qiao Jiajin prepared to tighten the hold, he realized something was off.

Zhang Shan had wedged a hand between his own neck and Qiao Jiajin’s arm, preventing the choke from fully setting in.

Though he’d blocked the submission, Zhang Shan wasn’t in a good spot—his hand was now trapped along with his neck.

The two were locked in a stalemate, neither able to break free.

*”Hey… big guy…”* Qiao Jiajin gritted his teeth. *”You wanna tap? Call me ‘boss,’ and I’ll let go…”*

*”Fuck that! I’d rather die than surrender…”* Zhang Shan strained his muscles, searching for an opening, but Qiao Jiajin’s hold was rock-solid—no weaknesses to exploit.