Chapter 197 At Your Mercy

Chapter 197: Entirely at Your Disposal

Zhou Zhan jerked his head up, his lips trembling violently. The word "can" crashed against the tip of his tongue, scorching his throat.

The man before him—those eyes burning with anger yet still dazzlingly bright—began to grow vacant...

The cold dragon throne and the vast territories suddenly seemed truly distant and blurred.

But—

His father's deep gaze, his mother's hopeful eyes from childhood, the Grand Tutor's years of painstaking instruction.

The intricate web of power in the court, and the imperial responsibility etched into his bones since his earliest lessons...

Like countless invisible hands, they instantly seized his throat, strangling the word that almost escaped, forcing it back down!

Abandon...?

These two words weighed heavier than mountains and seas; he simply could not bear them.

His mouth opened, his throat stuffed with scorching gravel, letting out hoarse, rasping gasps, but not a single word came out.

Those eyes, once reddened with surging emotion, now held only utter bewilderment and confusion and a despair utterly crushed by reality.

He looked at Cheng Ge, at the expected understanding and deep mockery in the other's eyes, and felt his blood run cold, his hands and feet icy.

He... could not.

He could not give Cheng Ge the exclusivity and clarity he demanded, nor could he abandon his innate responsibility and the realm for him.

All his fierce, presumptuous feelings, under Cheng Ge's relentless questioning, seemed so childish, laughable, and even... despicably selfish.

Cheng Ge watched his suddenly ashen face and hollow gaze. The burning anger in his heart gradually gave way to a cold, bleak sorrow.

He no longer looked at Zhou Zhan, slowly turning around, his voice weary and distant:

"As for today's matter, Your Highness, I will act as if it never occurred. As Crown Prince, all eyes are on you; you should be more restrained and self-disciplined, careful in words and deeds. Do not lose decorum or give others ammunition out of a momentary lapse in judgment."

With that, he straightened his rumpled sleeves and turned to leave once more.

His unyielding back seemed determined to sever all the unbearable chaos once and for all.

This detached tone and unhesitating stance pierced like a sharp thorn into the last shaky vestiges of Zhou Zhan's resolve.

The despair crushed by reality, the shame of rejection, and the unquenched twisted possessiveness all merged into a violent flame, instantly devouring what little sanity remained.

"Stop!" Zhou Zhan suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, his voice sharp and distorted with extreme emotion, laced with a mad obsession.

"Cheng Ge! Do you think you can leave?! This prince wants to keep you; do you think you can escape?! The whole world is mine! Where can you possibly flee?!"

He roared like a cornered beast's final howl: "Stop him! No one is to let him step out of this hall until I give the order!"

The guards immediately stepped forward, their blades not yet drawn, but tightened the encirclement. The cold iron armor emanated an unyielding pressure, completely blocking Cheng Ge's escape.

Cheng Ge was forced to stop again.

Time seemed to freeze, the hall filled only with Zhou Zhan's heavy, rapid breathing.

After a long moment, Cheng Ge slowly turned around.

His face no longer held any anger—only a deadly calm.

Beneath that calm, however, lurked a chilling undercurrent that set one's heart racing.

His eyes swept over the guards blocking his way. With a sudden movement, a cold light flashed—

Before the guard could even react, the saber from his waist had been snatched by Cheng Ge.

Zhou Zhan's eyes widened in shock.

"Muyu!" Zhou Zhan's pupils contracted sharply. Cheng Ge twisted his wrist and flung it forward—

"Clang!!!" A piercing metallic clash exploded.

The saber was thrown heavily at Zhou Zhan's feet without warning.

The blade trembled, resonating with a humming sound, its cold gleam reflecting Zhou Zhan's suddenly drained face.

Instead of retreating, Cheng Ge advanced step by step toward Zhou Zhan.

His pace was steady, each step as if treading on everyone's heart.

Those eyes, always carrying a hint of unruly amusement, now held only arrogant contempt.

As if he were not trapped here, but rather judging the exalted Crown Prince.

He stopped before the saber lying between them, his gaze like two icy daggers piercing straight into Zhou Zhan's panicked eyes.

Then, he slightly raised his chin, his voice as cold as the bitterest winter frost, ringing clearly through the tomb-silent hall:

"Doesn't Your Highness want me?"

"Then I ask Your Highness to personally use this blade to put me to death."

He paused, a barely perceptible curve even appearing at the corner of his lips.

"As for my corpse—how Your Highness wishes to dispose of it is, naturally, entirely up to Your Highness."

With those words, he fell silent, simply looking at Zhou Zhan, his gaze calm and untroubled.

As if he had not just spoken of his own life and death, but of some trivial matter.

Zhou Zhan's head snapped down, his frantic eyes looked at the cold saber at his toes.

The icy gleam seared his eyes, reflecting his pale, lost face at this moment.

That cold metallic luster seemed to carry the heat of Cheng Ge's resolve, scalding his eyes and searing his heart.

As if struck by an invisible hammer, his entire body trembled violently.

He instinctively took a huge step backward, as if the hilt were not a hilt, but the tongue of a venomous snake.

"No..." a shattered syllable slipped from his quivering lips.

That was not what he meant. He only wanted to draw closer to Cheng Ge, to be with him.

But Cheng Ge used this almost tragic manner, like a basin of ice-cold water mixed with hailstones, poured down over his head.

In an instant, all his paranoia and self-righteous possessiveness were completely doused, leaving behind only piercing cold and a bleak, scattered despair.

Silence —

The suffocating silence pressed down like a tangible fog, blanketing every corner of the Eastern Palace.

Zhou Zhan collapsed to the cold floor, his back slamming hard against the edge of a solid desk leg.

Pain shot through him, making him wince, but it was nothing compared to the crushing agony tearing through his chest.

His face was deathly pale, his lips trembling uncontrollably. His eyes, once full of obsession and fervor, were now empty of focus, filled only with unfocused panic and barren bewilderment.

He was like a fish out of water, gaping helplessly, unable to form any coherent sound—only a hoarse, sobbing breath escaped his lips.

"No... that's not it... I don't want this..."

He muttered incoherently. How had it come to this? How had he ended up here?

Cheng Ge tilted his head back, his profile eerily calm in the shifting light.

This calm, more than any violent resistance, filled Zhou Zhan with a suffocating fear.

Time ticked by, each second stretching into an eternity.

His heavy breaths intertwined into an invisible net, tightening around Zhou Zhan, constricting him tighter and tighter, threatening to choke the life out of him.

He suddenly jerked his head up, staggered to his feet, and stumbled—nearly on all fours—a few steps toward Cheng Ge.

"Mu... Muyu..." he choked out, no longer the exalted Crown Prince, but more like a child who had done wrong, afraid of being abandoned.

"I'm not... I didn't mean to force you to die... I just... I just don't know what to do... Here..."

He pounded his chest in confusion, "It hurts so much... I can't stand it when I can't see you... and it hurts even more when I do... I can't control it... I don't know what to do..."

He stretched out his hand, trembling, wanting to touch the hem of Cheng Ge's robe, but he dared not touch it. His fingers curled helplessly in the air.

"Don't be like this... please... don't do this to me..."

"I'll take the sword away... I'll tell them all to leave... You... don't be like this..."

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