Chapter 185 Unable to Overthrow

His voice was deep and cold, each word pounding into her eardrums: "Don't think that just because you're my ally you can act arrogant in front of me. Killing you is easier than crushing an insect; I won't even have to get my hands dirty."

She trembled uncontrollably, her nails digging into his wrist, but to no avail.

Her eyes throbbed with intense pain from lack of oxygen, feeling as if they were about to burst—she knew he was ruthless, but she never imagined he would tear apart that false alliance so thoroughly, so mercilessly.

"Let...let me go..."

She managed to squeeze out a few words, her throat feeling as if it were being clamped by iron clamps, her breathing becoming intermittent.

He slapped his arm wildly with his fingers, but Zhou Yuze's hand remained unmoved.

The air grew thinner and thinner, the lights in front of me began to distort and flicker, the edges of my vision were quickly swallowed by darkness, and all I could hear was the rapid beating of my own heart.

Zhou Yuce stared coldly at her, watching her originally arrogant face gradually turn pale, her lips turn purple, and the veins on her neck bulge.

Just as she was about to completely faint, he suddenly let go of her hand.

She fell heavily to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, the pain from her back hitting the floor briefly bringing her back to her senses.

She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving violently, like a fish thrown ashore, struggling to survive on a dry beach, each breath accompanied by excruciating pain.

He stood above her, looking down at her with an expressionless gaze.

After a moment, he slowly bent down, his voice still icy cold: "Next time you act arrogantly towards me, I won't be so polite. Remember, in front of me, you're not even as good as an ant."

Chen Yun slumped onto the cold floor tiles, her limbs feeling as if all her bones had been removed.

Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably, silently dripping onto her clothes and soaking the area.

She raised her hand tremblingly to touch her neck, where it burned with pain, as if the pressure from his palm still lingered.

For a split second just now—she truly believed she was going to die.

That suffocating feeling of being on the verge of death still churns in my heart and lingers.

Meanwhile, Sheng Zhengfeng paced anxiously downstairs, his heels stomping heavily on the floor with each step.

He gripped his phone tightly, his fingertips turning white from the excessive force, almost shattering the screen.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his eyes kept glancing towards the doorway.

"Where is this kid? If he doesn't show up soon, we're going to announce it to everyone!"

He cursed under his breath, his tone full of anxiety and unease.

My fingers dialed the number again and again, the phone ringing in the empty corridor, but all I heard on the other end was a cold busy tone; no one answered.

Old Master Chen stood to the side, his brows furrowed slightly, and tentatively asked, "Zhengfeng, what do you think of announcing it at six o'clock sharp? It's almost time, and if we delay any longer, the guests will get impatient."

Sheng Zhengfeng took a deep breath, finally giving up as he stuffed his phone into his pocket, a look of helplessness and compromise on his face.

He nodded and said, "Okay, I'll do as you say, six o'clock it is. Anyway... if he doesn't come, it's his own fault for giving up the opportunity."

Half an hour later, Chen Yun slowly walked downstairs.

She changed into a pure black high-necked evening gown, the neckline turned up high, completely covering the bruises on her neck.

Her skirt swayed gently with her steps, her posture elegant, as if the shock she had just experienced had never happened.

When Grandpa Chen saw her come down, he immediately smiled kindly and beckoned, "Xiaoyun, come with Grandpa to the hall. Everyone is waiting for you."

"Um."

She responded softly, a gentle smile playing on her lips, and slowly stepped forward to gently take her grandfather's arm.

Her movements were natural and her expression calm, but only she knew that her fingertips were still trembling slightly.

She glanced up discreetly, quickly scanning the hall—under the resplendent crystal chandeliers, guests chatted and laughed in hushed tones, clinking glasses, but there was no sign of that familiar yet suffocating figure.

Sheng Tingzhou...

He didn't come.

The weight that had been hanging over my heart has finally been lifted.

She lowered her eyes, concealing a hint of coldness in them.

It's best if they don't come.

Once the engagement is announced, the die is cast, and even if he changes his mind afterward, the Sheng family will be in the wrong.

Public opinion will side with the Chen family, and once the engagement is made public, no one can easily overturn it.

The two walked side by side to the center of the stage, and Mr. Chen took the microphone handed to him by a staff member and held it firmly in his hand.

He surveyed the room, his expression solemn, his voice loud and steady: "Thank you all for taking the time to attend my birthday banquet. Today, besides celebrating your birthday, there is another important matter I have to tell you—"

The audience fell silent, and everyone's eyes were focused on the center of the stage.

Chen Yun stood beside her grandfather, her head slightly bowed, a subtle smile playing on her lips, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

She waited quietly, waiting for the word "engagement" to come out of her grandfather's mouth, announcing a turning point in her fate.

Dozens of eyes in the audience were fixed on the old man, holding their breath, afraid of missing a single word.

"That's my granddaughter—" Before Old Master Chen could finish speaking, the microphone in his hand suddenly emitted a sharp, piercing "buzz—" sound, and then his voice stopped abruptly, completely gone.

"Huh? Why is it so quiet?"

Chen Yun stood to the side of the stage, her palms already damp with cold sweat, soaking the bottom of the microphone.

She hurriedly raised her hand and patted the metal casing, producing several dull "thump-thump" sounds, but the speaker still did not respond at all, only a faint electrical noise could be heard.

Old Master Chen stood on the stage, his smile freezing for a moment before turning into anger.

He glared at the butler beside him, his voice low but icy: "What are you all standing there for? Go and get another one!"

As soon as he finished speaking, and while everyone was waiting anxiously, a clear and steady voice suddenly came from the entrance of the hall: "Grandpa Chen."

The sound was neither loud nor soft, yet it was like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, creating ripples.

Suddenly, all the conversations in the hall came to an abrupt halt, as if an invisible hand had pressed the pause button.

All eyes turned to them, and even their breathing became lighter.

Sheng Tingzhou stood upright at the door, his tall figure perfectly outlined in a well-tailored black suit.

The silver-gray tie was tied in a perfect Windsor knot, and a section of gleaming platinum cufflinks peeked out from the cuffs, gleaming with a cool luster under the crystal chandelier.

He was holding the hand of a young woman dressed in a pure white custom-made dress—Song Zhiwei—with his left hand.

Her skirt cascaded down like a cloud, a pearlescent shawl draped over her shoulders, and her hair was slightly curled and gently tied up with a small diamond ornament.

The two stood side by side and slowly entered the hall.

His steps were unhurried, each step as precise as if calculated, yet carrying an innate elegance and a sense of pressure.

Wherever they walked, the air seemed to cool instantly, and even the warm light cast by the chandeliers seemed to freeze.

The guests held their breath, their hearts gripped by this unexpected appearance.