The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 3

When Xiao Lin returned to the Marshal’s office at the Imperial Military Headquarters, the sky outside was already as dark and heavy as ink that refused to dissolve.

The finely tailored military coat that had been perfectly crisp when he entered the Ning estate now sagged slightly at the shoulders, carrying with it a silent weight.

He unfastened the collar button in silence and draped the coat neatly over the back of the chair, as if that mechanical routine was his way of resisting the disorder in his heart.

The office was cold as an ice cellar, illuminated only by the faint glow of the holo-screen.

The air was thick with the suppressed force of a top-level sentinel’s spiritual power, pressing down on every inch of space.

Xiao Lin knew that in his spiritual sea, the massive dark-gold wolf was curled up in agony, its head buried deeply under its forepaws, a low, wounded whimper stuck in its throat. It dared not make another sound, afraid of disturbing its already troubled master.

“The smell of rust and blood…”

“So fierce, not cute at all.”

“Switch to another one.”

That boy’s voice—light and soft—was like feathers tipped with barbs, scraping again and again across his heart, leaving behind a dense ache.

But sharper than the ache was the image of him as he said those words.

That face, so beautiful it seemed unreal, flushed faintly with tension. Those unique, dreamlike violet eyes shimmered with tears, brimming with fear and helplessness.

Like a little rabbit forced to the edge of a cliff, fur puffed out in futile defiance.

Did he really hate him?

No.

That wasn’t disgust.

Xiao Lin was certain—it was fear. A bone-deep fear that made even his own heart tremble.

Everything was riddled with contradictions.

His long, slender fingers tapped the holo-screen, pulling up Ning Ning’s personal file.

[Ning Ning, 19 years old, Guide, Spiritual body: Moon Rabbit, Rating: B-]

[Personality tags: Arrogant, willful, extravagant, vain…]

The photos attached showed a boy swiping cards in luxury stores, or smiling emptily while surrounded at grand parties.

Like a beautifully crafted doll, but utterly soulless.

Xiao Lin’s gaze was as sharp as blades as it skimmed across those glaring labels.

No.

His beast-like instincts screamed in protest.

That boy—the one whose voice trembled even as he said the cruelest words, who couldn’t bear the sight of his spiritual beast’s pain—was nothing like the shallow fool in these files.

What was he afraid of?

What was it that made him push himself away so clumsily?

“Beep.”

Xiao Lin connected to a secure internal line, though his eyes never left that tear-bright face on the screen.

“Marshal,” came Deputy Lin’s steady voice.

“I want all of Ning Ning’s data.” Xiao Lin’s voice was low and freezing, his usual indifference edged now with the stubbornness of a wolf’s bite. “Not this garbage. I want the real thing. Twenty-four hours. No blind spots. Who he meets, what he eats, what books he reads, how long he sleeps… Even why he cries. I want to know everything.”

“Yes, Marshal.” There was not a moment’s hesitation.

Yet Deputy Lin keenly sensed that the tone in his commander’s voice went beyond a mere background investigation. It was more like a declaration of ownership.

When the call ended, Xiao Lin leaned back into the icy chair and closed his eyes.

In the darkness, his senses sharpened to the extreme. That intoxicatingly sweet fragrance that had driven him out of control still seemed to linger at the tip of his nose.

In his spiritual sea, the dark-gold wolf whimpered again, aggrieved.

It didn’t understand. It only wanted to lay the world’s best offerings at the little rabbit’s feet, to shield him from all storms with its broad chest.

And yet, the sting of rejection bled through the bond, leaving a dull ache in Xiao Lin’s heart.

But instead of extinguishing his desire, that pain fermented it—made it hotter, fiercer, more obsessive.

Like a fire burning straight through his soul.

Those labels—“arrogant,” “willful”—felt laughable now.

A true fool would never have eyes so pure, so panicked, so desperately clean.

Slowly, Xiao Lin opened his eyes again. In the dark, his emerald pupils glowed with a terrifying light.

He would peel away that spiny shell with his own hands, layer by layer.

No matter what trembling softness lay beneath—

He would have it.

That rabbit belonged to him, and him alone.

On the other side, Ning Ning curled up tightly on his plush bed, his face pale as death.

He felt like he was going to die.

His snow-white moon rabbit spirit lay weakly on his chest, long ears drooping, tiny body trembling. It nuzzled his chin with its nose, radiating unease and sorrow, as if guilty for hurting that big wolf today.

Earlier, his father Ning Zhenhai had come in, looking more serious and exhausted than ever.

He hadn’t scolded him for being “willful.” Instead, he sighed, sat at the bedside, and spoke hoarsely:

“Ning Ning, I know today scared you. But a week from now, you must attend the Imperial Annual Banquet.”

Looking at his son’s bloodless face broke his heart, but he forced himself to continue:

“Our family… needs this chance to show the outside world that our ties with the Marshal remain intact. This is for the family, and… for your protection. Do you understand?”

The Imperial Banquet—an arena for the empire’s power core. Just imagining it made Ning Ning’s legs go weak.

Worse still was what came after his father left: System 89’s voice.

【Ding-dong! Dearest host, your VIP ticket to the ultimate battlefield of dog-blood drama has been delivered! Please check~】

Its bubbly electronic tone was like a death sentence.

【Main Quest Updated: At the Imperial Banquet, successfully act as the ‘vicious cannon fodder’ and become the biggest laughingstock of the night!】

【Mission Suggestions: 1. Accidentally spill red wine on a high-ranking noblewoman. 2. Fall flat on your face in front of the entire hall. 3. Speak rudely to another protagonist—Second Prince Gu Qingfeng—and trigger conflict.】

Ning Ning’s lips drained of color.

“89… I-I can’t…” His voice broke in his mind, trembling with tears. “There will be so many people there, and what if Xiao Lin is there too? I just offended him today—he’ll kill me on the spot! Please, let’s change the mission! I beg you!”

【Host, do not waver.】 89’s sweet tone hardened into steel. 【This is a key plot node. Irreplaceable. Think about it—making the two male leads fight over you in front of the entire empire! What a glorious cannon-fodder highlight! If you want to go home, you must complete this mission. Come on, I believe in you~】

Ning Ning buried his face in the pillow and wailed in despair.

What kind of cursed “blessing” was this supposed to be?!

The night before the banquet.

Ning Ning couldn’t sleep at all.

Dressed in silk pajamas, bare feet on the icy floor, he sat with his knees pulled tight to his chest by the window. Moonlight washed his silver hair with a saintly glow as he buried his face, looking like a child abandoned by the world.

【Ding! Still too excited about tomorrow’s “big moment” to sleep, Host?】 System 89 chirped cheerfully. 【Just imagine—you tripping spectacularly in front of all the empire’s elites! Ah, what a milestone for your cannon-fodder career!】

“Shut up! Please, shut up!” Ning Ning groaned into the darkness.

Meanwhile, across the city, Xiao Lin too lay sleepless.

His bedroom was spartan, oppressive, its only light coming from the projection on his wrist terminal.

On the screen—live surveillance of Ning Ning’s room.

Deputy Lin’s efficiency was terrifying. In less than twenty-four hours, everything around Ning Ning—including his bedroom—was under the Marshal’s complete control.

Onscreen, the boy hugged his knees by the window, a tiny, lonely figure. Moonlight poured over him, making him seem like an illusion that might shatter at any moment.

Xiao Lin’s throat worked as he swallowed.

He watched as the boy suddenly lifted his head, seemingly talking to someone invisible, his face full of resistance and pleading. Those beautiful violet eyes brimmed with tears again, unbearably pitiful.

【Why is he crying?】

He shot off the cold question.

The reply came instantly:

【Report, Marshal. Based on lip-reading and micro-expression analysis, it appears Young Master Ning Ning is… talking to himself. Emotional state: extreme anxiety, fear, and strong resistance toward tomorrow’s Imperial Banquet.】

Talking to himself?

Xiao Lin’s frown deepened.

He stared at the trembling boy wiping tears with the back of his hand, and that dull ache in his chest surged once more.

He doesn’t want to go.

He’s afraid.

Xiao Lin’s fingertips brushed the hologram as if he could touch that fragile shoulder.

【Ding.】

A new intelligence brief arrived.

【Target: Second Prince, Gu Qingfeng. S-rank Guide. Will attend tomorrow’s Imperial Banquet. According to schedule, he will remain in the same vicinity as Young Master Ning Ning for over ten minutes.】

Gu Qingfeng.

The moment Xiao Lin saw the name, his emerald pupils contracted sharply.

He remembered Ning Ning’s words: “Switch to another one.”

So… was it for another man that he wore that terrified, fragile expression?

A violent surge of jealousy and possession erupted inside him, molten and searing.

He would go.

Tomorrow’s banquet—he must be there.

He had to see for himself what could scare his little rabbit into such trembling.

And he would let everyone know.

This rabbit was already his.

No one else could touch him.

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