The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 27

The Imperial First Military Academy’s cafeteria was bustling with noise and chatter.

Ning Ning was seated by the window, eating a strawberry pudding in small spoonfuls, a fluffy Cloud Beast nestled in his arms. It was the “soothing plush” that Gu Qingfeng had practically shoved into his arms before leaving yesterday. The little creature was sound asleep, its tiny snow-white head poking out of the fur.

He was completely absorbed in his dessert when a gentle voice sounded above him.

“Excuse me, are you Senior Ning Ning?”

Ning Ning looked up and saw a face full of goodwill. The boy had soft flaxen hair, warm light-brown eyes, and a bright, sunny smile that easily inspired fondness.

“Hello, I’m a new exchange student—Xia Yu.” His smile was just right, neither obsequious nor distant. He glanced at Ning Ning’s tray, then at the beverage menu, and soon returned with a glass of perfectly chilled blueberry juice.

“I noticed you seem to like berry desserts. This is for you.”

Ning Ning blinked, a little overwhelmed by the gesture. His violet eyes flickered as he accepted the drink. The boy seemed kind—warm, even.

“Thank you,” Ning Ning murmured softly.

Just then, an overwhelming and all-too-familiar pressure swept across the hall.

The once noisy cafeteria went dead silent, as if someone had pressed the mute button. The air itself seemed to freeze.

Ning Ning instinctively hunched his shoulders, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

Xiao Lin strode in, dressed in black training fatigues, tray in hand. When his eyes landed on Xia Yu sitting across from Ning Ning—and the juice in Ning Ning’s hands, clearly not self-bought—those dark-gold eyes narrowed dangerously.

Without a word, he sat down right beside Ning Ning, his tall frame shielding the boy completely and cutting off the line of sight from across the table. He neatly cut the steak on his own tray into even pieces, then pushed the plate toward Ning Ning with practiced ease.

Xia Yu’s smile did not falter. He rose politely, giving a slight bow.
“Marshal, sir. I’m exchange student Xia Yu.”

His posture was respectful, but his gaze—fleeting and subtle—swept across Ning Ning’s delicate profile and soft silver hair.

Xiao Lin’s only response was a single cold syllable.
“Mm.”

Ning Ning, oblivious to the undercurrents crackling between the two, thought Xia Yu was very polite. As for Xiao Lin’s care—it was only natural.

He smiled at Xia Yu, his expression pure and guileless.
“If you’d like to get familiar with the Academy, I can show you the library.”

Xia Yu’s eyes lit up.
“Really? That would be an honor!”

Crack.

The fork in Xiao Lin’s hand bent slightly under the force of his tightening grip, the silver metal creaking in protest.

That afternoon, in the Marshal’s office.

Xiao Lin studied the holographic file projected above his terminal, his brows knit tightly.

Xia Yu’s record—from birth to enrollment—was flawless. Spotless. Too spotless. And in Xiao Lin’s eyes, such airtight perfection was the biggest red flag of all.

Meanwhile, Gu Qingfeng had also received a secret report from his men.

Attached was a mental-power fluctuation scan of Xia Yu. At first glance, it looked stable. But at certain points, it betrayed an odd distortion—like something forcibly disguised.

Gu Qingfeng’s long fingers tapped the desk lightly, his obsidian eyes fathomless.

“Keep him under surveillance.”

In Ning Ning’s single dorm room, he sat hugging the Cloud Beast, frowning at the flashing system prompt in his mind.

[Ding! Alert, Host! A dangerous individual has appeared near you—please remain on guard!]

System 89’s adorable electronic voice carried a hint of urgency.

A dangerous individual?

Ning Ning’s first thought was Xiao Lin and Gu Qingfeng. After all, this morning in the cafeteria, the Marshal’s look at Xia Yu could’ve frozen him solid. And though Gu Qingfeng hadn’t shown up, Ning Ning often felt his presence everywhere.

Sigh. Their jealousy really is kind of… dangerous.

He let out a little sigh, never once associating the warning with the sunny, cheerful new classmate.

Night fell again.

In the exchange dorms, Xia Yu stood alone by the window. His bright, boyish smile from the day was gone—what remained was bone-deep coldness.

He raised a hand. In his palm, a wisp of faint black energy flickered—completely different from his own mental power.

It was the mark of the Black-Clad Men—a beacon of malice.

From that day forward, Xia Yu became like a gentle beam of sunlight, always appearing in Ning Ning’s life at the most opportune times.

When Ning Ning couldn’t reach a book on the highest shelf of the archive terminal, Xia Yu would happen to pass by and retrieve it with a smile. When the cafeteria’s limited-edition desserts sold out, he somehow produced one, explaining lightly that a friend had set it aside for him.

He never intruded, his timing was always impeccable. His presence seeped in silently, like spring rain nourishing the earth—subtle, persistent, everywhere.

In the Academy’s grand library, the sun filtered through the domed ceiling into softened beams, scattering motes of dust in the air. Ning Ning sat with a heavy tome—The Illustrated Guide to Ancient Spirit Beasts—absorbed in reading.

“Senior Ning Ning, you’re interested in these ancient spirit forms?” Xia Yu’s voice came softly, perfectly measured.

He had appeared beside him at some point, setting down a steaming cup of herbal tea and sliding it gently toward Ning Ning.

Ning Ning lifted his head, violet eyes reflecting the boy’s warm smile.
“Mm. I think they’re… special.”

“Indeed, evolved spirit forms make one ponder the true origin of power.” Xia Yu’s gaze drifted to the page, speaking casually as he opened a new topic. “Your recent evolution… it must’ve been very difficult, wasn’t it? What was it like?”

His tone brimmed with sincerity and concern—so much that one couldn’t help but confide.

Ning Ning tilted his silver head, thoughtful and slightly dazed.
“Not difficult. Just… empty. Like a noisy room suddenly going silent. Everything’s moved out, leaving only bare walls.”

He traced a circle on the desk with his fingertip.
“Then, everything feels clearer… transparent.”

Deep in Xia Yu’s eyes, for the briefest instant, a spark of greed and wild excitement flashed—so quick it could’ve been imagined. He kept his gentle smile, listening as Ning Ning, with the simplest words, described a state that countless Imperial powerhouses could only dream of attaining.

The library’s air conditioning was a little strong. Absent-mindedly, Ning Ning rubbed his arms.

Xia Yu noticed immediately. He slipped off his sharp exchange-student jacket and draped it over Ning Ning’s shoulders with natural ease.

“The air is chilly here. Don’t catch a cold.”

The jacket carried Xia Yu’s warmth and a faint, clean scent of soap. Its soft fabric wrapped half of Ning Ning’s small frame, a cocoon of careful attention. Ning Ning flushed faintly, tugging at the lapel and murmuring thanks.

As Xia Yu adjusted the collar for him, his fingertips brushed lightly against the delicate skin at the nape of Ning Ning’s neck, sending a tiny shiver through him.

At that moment, a tall shadow silently engulfed them.

The surrounding light seemed swallowed up, the air plunging several degrees colder—a raw, unmasked field pressure that only a top-tier Sentinel could emit.

Xia Yu’s smile froze. He snapped his head up, locking eyes with a pair of dark-gold irises as cold as a frozen abyss.

Xiao Lin was standing right beside their table. He hadn’t made a sound, yet his presence alone was the loudest warning.

He didn’t even glance at Xia Yu. His gaze went straight to Ning Ning—then to the offensive jacket draped on his shoulders.

“Marshal,” Xia Yu forced the word out. Under that crushing aura, even standing upright was difficult.

Xiao Lin still didn’t look at him.

He bent down, lowering himself close to Ning Ning. His crisp, commanding cedar scent surged out, overwhelming and erasing the faint soap fragrance lingering on the jacket.

With long, defined fingers, he gripped the collar of the exchange-student jacket. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it off Ning Ning’s shoulders, his expression one of undisguised disgust—as though handling some filthy, contaminating trash.

Without so much as a glance, he tossed the jacket onto the empty seat nearby, as if even touching it dirtied his hand.

Before Ning Ning could react, Xiao Lin unfastened his own training coat. Draping it firmly over Ning Ning, he wrapped the boy tightly in its broad fabric and his own overpowering scent and warmth—swaddling him completely, like a precious treasure put away for safekeeping.

Ning Ning blinked, suddenly enveloped in familiar cedar fragrance and heat. The coat was enormous, the sleeves so long they swallowed his hands, leaving only the tips of his fingers showing.

Only then did Xiao Lin finally direct his icy gaze at Xia Yu’s pale face. His voice was low, each word frosted with lethal warning:

“My Guide.”

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