The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 20

The heavy metal door slammed shut with a loud bang, cutting off everything outside.

The resting chamber was dimly lit, and the air was thick with the scorching, overbearing scent of Xiao Lin. It felt like fire, burning so hot it nearly choked the breath out of him.

Ning Ning was gently placed onto the soft, wide bed. The movement carried a subtle caution, as though Xiao Lin himself hadn’t noticed it.

The next second, Ning Ning’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

The Imperial Marshal—who always stood tall and unyielding like a pine tree—did not press down over him. Instead, with a heavy thud, he dropped to one knee at the bedside.

His towering body bent slightly, the black strands at his forehead damp with sweat. Droplets rolled down the sharp lines of his jaw, falling onto the expensive carpet where they instantly evaporated into little wisps of steam.

His fists clenched tight on his knees, veins bulging, muscles trembling violently as if he were battling a beast inside, one desperate struggle away from breaking loose.

“Ning Ning… help me…”

The words grated out from between his teeth, hoarse as if he’d swallowed a handful of burning sand.

Ning Ning’s heart clenched tight at the sight.

He looked up, meeting a pair of golden eyes bloodshot with strain. They swirled with agony, with struggle—and with a raw, unhidden desire to devour him whole, tangled together with an overwhelming, bone-deep tenderness.

This man—the Empire’s strongest sentinel—was using every shred of his willpower to hold back his instincts, just to avoid hurting him.

The last traces of fear dissolved in Ning Ning’s chest. What replaced them was something he couldn’t even name himself: a fragile, aching pity.

“…You… don’t panic.”

Ning Ning pressed his lips together, forced himself to be brave, and whispered: “…Alright.”

With a flicker of thought, a snowball-like moon rabbit materialized beside him.

The little creature’s violet eyes, so much like its master’s, shimmered with unease. Its twitching nose caught the stormy scent in the air, trembling nervously.

Almost simultaneously, the dark-gold wolf at Xiao Lin’s side let out a low, restrained growl. Its golden eyes burned with restless fire—

But the moment it saw that tiny, snow-white rabbit, its massive frame froze.

The violent aura capable of tearing steel apart vanished, like an invisible hand had slammed it down.

Slowly, carefully, the giant wolf lowered itself. Its great head edged forward, until its nose—strong enough to crush skulls—gently, hesitantly brushed against the rabbit’s soft fur.

“Woo…”

A sound, both satisfied and pitiful, rumbled from its throat. Like a great hound that had suffered a thousand grievances outside and finally found its home, it wanted nothing more than to bury its whole head into the little rabbit’s fluff.

Seeing this, Ning Ning finally let out a breath.

He raised his hand and once again tried to form a mental link. This time, he was more cautious than ever.

From his fingertips, a pale lavender glow bloomed—like a handful of crushed starlight, cool and soft as moonlight—slowly flowing into Xiao Lin’s mental wasteland, parched and torn to shreds by endless storms.

And this time, Ning Ning saw.

The sky over that mindscape was blood-red, torn apart by streaks of golden lightning and raging tornadoes.

His spirit power fell like a quiet night rain, soundless but steady.

Each drop touched the cracked earth, and the hideous fissures began to mend, smoothing before his very eyes. The raging golden storm, brushing against this lavender starlight, slowly calmed, softening into warm golden currents that curled docilely around the violet core.

As the mindscape soothed, Xiao Lin’s tense body visibly relaxed.

He was still kneeling by the bed, but slowly he lifted his head.

From this angle, looking up, Ning Ning was bathed in a halo of lavender radiance. Around him, fine motes of light danced like fireflies, making his face so beautiful it looked unearthly.

Those violet eyes focused wholly on him, reflecting his own disheveled image inside their pupils—not a trace of fear, not a hint of disgust. Only worry. Soft, pure, heart-aching worry.

Perhaps it was the toll of spirit exhaustion, but Ning Ning’s lips were drained of color, parted slightly as he breathed faintly—fragile, as if he might shatter at a touch.

In that moment, Xiao Lin felt—
He was no helpless treasure to be guarded.

He was a god.

A god who descended into his barren wasteland, the only divinity he had.

Xiao Lin’s gaze lowered to the delicate, pale hand pressed against his chest, channeling that cooling, saving power into him.

Slowly, he raised his own hand—broad, strong, the knuckles pale from force—and laid it over Ning Ning’s.

The movement was gentle, reverent, like handling a priceless porcelain relic.

Then he lowered his head, pressing his forehead to their overlapping hands. Softly, lingeringly, with infinite devotion.

The gesture radiated trust. Surrender.

“Ning Ning…” he spoke again. The hoarseness had faded, leaving only a deep, honey-soaked timbre. “Don’t move. Just like this. Stay with me a little longer.”

【System 89】: Warning! Warning! Host, you are forming a deep link with the target’s mind! You may glimpse their private memories!

The warning chimed—and Ning Ning’s head rang.

Before he could react, images not his own surged like a tide into his consciousness.

He saw a lavish Imperial banquet.

His father, Ning Zhenhai, stood with him in the crowd. And Xiao Lin—across the grand hall, through a sea of glittering gowns—laid eyes on him for the first time.

In that instant, Ning Ning felt the man’s world ignite. From dull grays to dazzling color—and the only color was himself.

The scene shifted.

A training ground. He was paired with Gu Qingfeng in a sparring dance.

In a monitoring room, Xiao Lin’s golden eyes blazed as he stared at the screen, jealousy dark and scorching, so strong it nearly consumed everything. His knuckles whitened around the armrest.

The scene shifted again.

Endless, silent nights.

The Marshal—strong enough to terrify the whole Empire—sat alone in his office, replaying a single image of Ning Ning over and over. His fingertips traced the screen, over and over, full of longing, unable to touch, unable to stop.

And more. So much more.

The breathless restraint in the car that first night he drove him home.
The way his face fell when Ning Ning spoke with others.
The way he secretly rejoiced for a whole day over a single offhand word from him.

Frame by frame, moment by moment—nothing but love. Obsessive, consuming, hopeless love.

Ning Ning’s heart lurched, nearly stopping under the flood of emotion. His mind blanked.

So it was true. From the very beginning, this man had…

【System 89】: Oho… Host, this level of lovesickness—no cure for him, I’m afraid.

While he was still dazed, Xiao Lin’s breathing had steadied completely. The raging heat of the bond was temporarily subdued.

He raised his head. His golden eyes still burned, but now with clarity.

He looked at Ning Ning—so close, those violet eyes wide in shock at what they’d just glimpsed inside him. His throat bobbed with tension.

Slowly, carefully, he lifted his hand.

His palm, broad and warm, pressed gently against Ning Ning’s silver curls. Calloused fingertips—used to gripping weapons—moved with trembling care, stroking softly, soothingly.

There was no lust in the motion. Only a fragile, lost-and-found treasuring.

Ning Ning stiffened, but didn’t move away.

He could feel the faint tremor in Xiao Lin’s fingers.

The next second, Xiao Lin leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of Ning Ning’s neck.

His tall frame enveloped Ning Ning completely, arms wrapping tight around that slim waist, pulling him close.

There was no force in it—only surrender.

The Empire’s strongest sentinel, holding onto him like a child who had found his only safe harbor, offering up all his weakness and scorching feelings into his embrace.

Ning Ning could smell the storm-and-fire scent clinging to him, could feel the strong, steady heartbeat thudding against his chest, hammering his own heart in turn.

It was absolute. Undeniable. Possession.

And then—

【System 89】: Host! Watch out! Unknown mental force detected!

Without warning, a foreign presence invaded.

Cold as ice, sharp with aggression, it slithered in like a hidden vine, slipping into Xiao Lin’s half-open spirit sea—
And struck straight toward Ning Ning’s lavender glow.

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