The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 100

It was four o’clock in the morning.

Never had the imperial capital been so chaotic.

The piercing air-raid sirens tore through the deepest darkness before dawn like dull knives, rudely slicing through the nerves of the entire city.

One wail after another, sharp and long, carrying ominous portents, forcefully drilling into everyone’s ears.

Ning Ning was woken by it.

He bolted upright in bed, heart hammering, still half-dazed from sleep. Dull thuds from distant explosions shook the mattress beneath him—once, twice—striking him as if they were pounding directly on his chest.

The entire Marshal’s Mansion was taut with a strange silence. Outside, it was as if the world was ending; inside, one could hear even a pin drop.

“What’s going on?” Ning Ning’s voice quivered faintly. He turned toward the bedside.

Xiao Lin was already fully dressed.

His black military uniform was impeccably straight, the epaulettes glinting coldly under the dim light. He was fastening the leather wrist guards on his arms with deliberate calm; he paused for only a split second upon hearing Ning Ning’s voice.

When the man turned, his eyes—those black eyes that struck terror into enemies on the battlefield—were calm and deep as an endless lake as they met Ning Ning’s gaze.

“Nothing.”

Xiao Lin came to the bed. His tall figure cast a comforting shadow over Ning Ning.

He said no more. Instead of reaching for a weapon, his strong, bony hand gently pressed Ning Ning’s thin shoulders, easing him back into the soft blankets.

The bed still smelled of Ning Ning’s warmth and sleep.

Bending down, Xiao Lin adjusted the covers over Ning Ning with near-reverent care, his movements so gentle it was as if he were handling a rare, fragile treasure.

“It’s just the Crown Prince… acting rashly,” Xiao Lin said flatly, as if he were reporting today’s weather. “Sleep. When the sun rises, it will all be over.”

His words sounded casual.

But Ning Ning understood immediately.

The Crown Prince was acting rashly.

A palace upheaval.

Those two words meant blood, death, and a wave strong enough to overturn the entire empire.

Yet this man, at the eye of the storm, calmly tucked him in with ordinary words, telling him to go back to sleep.

That composure, unshaken even as mountains fell, acted like a powerful sedative, instantly easing all the fear and anxiety the sirens had stirred in Ning Ning’s heart.

His fingers unclenched from the covers without realizing it.

He looked at Xiao Lin, at the eyes that reflected his small figure, and suddenly felt that even if the sky fell, there was nothing to fear.

As long as this man was there, the sky could not fall.

“…Mm,” Ning Ning murmured softly, obediently lying back down and curling under the blanket, only his purple eyes peeking out, staring unblinkingly at him.

He thought Xiao Lin would leave after tucking him in, returning to the blood-soaked chaos outside just like before.

But Xiao Lin did not.

The man looked at him deeply, ensuring he wouldn’t move again, then straightened. Instead of going to the door, he approached the communication equipment in the corner of the bedroom and skillfully accessed the highest-level permissions in the mansion.

A huge holographic tactical screen silently unfolded in the bedroom, displaying a three-dimensional map of the imperial capital. Countless red and blue dots clashed fiercely, with the area around the palace and the Marshal’s Mansion particularly dense.

“If you don’t want to sleep, watch.”

Xiao Lin’s voice came from behind the screen, low and calm. He pulled up a chair beside Ning Ning’s bed, as if he had brought the entire imperial command center into this small bedroom.

He wanted Ning Ning to witness with his own eyes how he would smooth everything out.

It was an unspoken declaration—domineering yet tender.

Ning Ning’s heart was struck hard by this sudden gesture, aching in a new way. He was not the one left behind; he was placed at the center of the storm, guarded by the strongest, watching this “performance” created just for him.

At that moment, Ning Ning’s bedside computer beeped and lit up.

It was an encrypted message from Gu Qingfeng.

Xiao Lin’s eyes immediately scanned it. The black gaze that had just been calm instantly darkened—a top predator guarding its territory, a look of possessive warning.

Ning Ning instinctively held his breath.

He could feel Xiao Lin’s hand tightening slightly over his own on his lap.

The computer automatically unlocked, and Gu Qingfeng’s warm, smiling face appeared on the screen, seemingly a pre-recorded video.

His background was the outdoor terrace of the Second Prince’s Mansion, flames lighting up the imperial capital behind him. He wore a silk robe, holding a glass of red wine, elegant as though enjoying fireworks.

“Ning Ning, did I wake you?”

His voice came through the screen, soothing and smiling, as if it could penetrate all the chaos.

“Don’t worry. This is just your elder brother’s extravagant fireworks. The chessboard I prepared for you has already begun.” He swirled the red wine in his glass, the liquid like blood.

“You don’t need to do anything or think about anything. Stay safe with the Marshal; he will shield you from all visible threats.”

Then, looking directly into the camera, his smile remained, but his eyes seemed to pierce straight through to Xiao Lin beside Ning Ning.

“And I will sweep away all the dust hidden in the shadows.”

“The net is closing.”

“Goodnight, my lord.”

The video ended. The screen went dark.

The bedroom was silent.

Ning Ning could hear the pounding of his own heart.

One used absolute force to build a fortress around him; the other used unmatched strategy to clear obstacles.

Two of the empire’s most formidable men, at this moment, were showing the same undeniable protection in two completely different ways.

“He does like to claim credit,” a very light, cold chuckle escaped Xiao Lin’s throat.

He didn’t look at Ning Ning, only at the giant tactical screen, yet his aura alone was frightening.

The Marshal’s jealousy was simple, direct, and unhidden.

Ning Ning’s heart fluttered; he felt an unaccountable pang of guilt. He was about to say something when Xiao Lin suddenly reached out—not to operate the screen, but to cover Ning Ning’s hand outside the blanket with his own.

The man’s palm was dry and warm, with calluses from years of holding a gun, yet he held Ning Ning’s small, soft hand as if in worship.

Then, lowering his head, he pressed a burning, possessive kiss on Ning Ning’s fingertips.

The kiss was light but sent a jolt through Ning Ning’s entire body.

He was not merely kissing his hand.

He was marking him.

“Don’t believe him,” Xiao Lin murmured, his voice low, husky, like a whisper in the ear. “Only I can truly keep you safe.”

“Watch me.”

He released Ning Ning’s hand and rapidly issued command after command across the tactical screen with calm precision:

“First Army, seal the palace perimeter.”
“Third Army, eliminate A3 sector fire points.”
“Fifth Army, activate ‘Meat Grinder’ mode. Outside the Marshal’s Mansion, leave no survivors.”

With each command, the blue arrows representing his forces cut, surrounded, and annihilated the chaotic red dots with surgical precision.

This was the real image of the Empire’s Marshal.

Cold, strong, strategic.

And all this bloodshed occurred within the safety of the bedroom. This man kept all filth and slaughter outside the screen, leaving only the most solid, reliable presence and the most comforting warmth for Ning Ning.

Ning Ning’s heart completely settled.

He watched Xiao Lin’s focused profile, the cold light from the screen highlighting his sharp jawline, feeling no fear at all.

Instead, he felt an unprecedented pride and security, cherished down to the bone.

The ally he had chosen was the empire’s strongest existence.

And they were both devoted to him alone.

He quietly drew back his gaze, burrowing into the soft blankets again. The only sounds were the clean, icy scent of Xiao Lin and, faintly, the echo of Gu Qingfeng’s “my lord.”

This bloodstained dawn, caused by the Crown Prince’s final madness, had thus been transformed, by the joint efforts of two top-tier men, into a grand and magnificent performance, all to make him smile.

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