The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 44

He tucked in the corner of Ning Ning’s clothes, making sure that the military coat infused with his own scorching body heat and domineering scent wrapped around every inch of the boy’s skin.

After doing this, Xie Lin did not leave.

He simply stood there, straight as a blade beside the sofa—like a silent guardian deity radiating a terrifying low pressure, making the very air in the cabin thick and heavy.

Another figure appeared without a sound.

Gu Qingfeng carried a silver insulated cup in his hand. His steps were elegant, noble, and eerily silent.

His eyes fell on Ning Ning, who was now bundled into a tiny ball inside the black military coat. Those usually warm, smiling black eyes sank with a flicker of something darker—so fleeting it was almost impossible to catch.

“His spiritual sea is damaged, and his body temperature is unbalanced. Just covering him with clothes won’t be enough.” Gu Qingfeng’s voice was smooth and melodious, cutting clearly through the silence. “Dr. Huo Ze prepared a restorative for the spiritual sea. He needs to drink it.”

Saying this, he naturally knelt on one knee upon the carpet before the sofa.

The posture was low, laced with a kind of devout submission, yet it deliberately intruded into the territory between Xie Lin and Ning Ning—forcefully breaking through the Alpha’s aura-drenched domain with silent defiance.

He unscrewed the lid, and at once, a faint fragrance drifted out—an odd blend of bitter herbs and sweet honey.

Testing the warmth of the cup wall with the back of his hand, he brought it gently to Ning Ning’s lips, whispering in a voice as soft as breath:

“Ning Ning… wake up. Drink some medicine, you’ll feel better.”

His tone carried a strange soothing power, like a night breeze brushing across the strings of a zither.

In his haze, Ning Ning’s long lashes quivered, as if drawn to this gentle power.

【…So noisy… Who’s chanting sutras by my ear…】

He felt the warmth by his lips, smelled the unfamiliar bitterness of the medicine, and instinctively frowned, turning his head away with a muffled sound of protest.

He pushed the cup aside.

But his hand didn’t withdraw.

Instead, like a drowning man seeking driftwood, his searching fingers caught hold of a coolness in the air—it was Gu Qingfeng’s hand holding the cup.

Gu Qingfeng’s fingers were long, slender, pale as jade from lack of sunlight—refreshingly cool.

Ning Ning’s small, soft hand was burning hot.

The instant his fevered palm pressed against that cool hand, Gu Qingfeng’s body stiffened imperceptibly.

【Mmm… natural air conditioner… so comfy…】

Ning Ning seemed to have found the source of comfort. Not only did he refuse to let go, but he clung tighter—like seizing a life-saving block of ice, his delicate fingers curling to trap Gu Qingfeng’s hand completely inside his own.

This scene entered Xie Lin’s dark golden pupils in crystal-clear detail.

The air froze solid.

He saw Ning Ning wrapped in his own coat, branded with his scent, his pale face still bearing the imprint of his breath—

Yet that same Ning Ning was clutching another man’s hand.

That unconscious, defenseless dependence… that instinctive closeness of body and soul—like a silent flame, it lit the fuse of jealousy in his chest.

He said nothing, his expression betrayed nothing.

He simply reached out with his own broad, calloused hand and, with an uncompromising grip, seized Ning Ning’s other hand.

His palm was blazing hot, like burning coals—an extreme counterpoint to Gu Qingfeng’s icy coolness.

“Mm…”

Caught between two opposing temperatures, the tearing cold-and-hot sensation inside Ning Ning strangely eased. Pampered by both, he sighed out a nasal, contented little hum, melting into the sofa.

【Help… left hand’s a heater, right hand’s an ice pack… Are you guys teaming up to give me physical therapy? Who on earth is supposed to enjoy this blessing?!】

In his mind, the system’s long-absent prompt crackled to life.

【Zzz… Warning! Shura field… energy overload! Recommendation… zzz… host should play dead.】

【Gee thanks! Am I not already half-dead here?!】 Ning Ning roared inwardly.

To the two men fully awake, however, that little hum was nothing less than a verdict.

Ning Ning had accepted them both.

“Let go.”

Xie Lin’s low voice rumbled like a beast’s growl, sharp as ice, as he gripped Ning Ning’s burning hand.

Gu Qingfeng remained kneeling, allowing Ning Ning to cling to his own hand. He raised his head, meeting Xie Lin’s glare, smiling warmly though his tone carried an edge:

“Marshal, Ning Ning needs me right now. Your temperature is too harsh—you’ll burn him.”

“My affairs don’t concern you.” Xie Lin’s gaze was lethal.

“But Ning Ning’s affairs do concern me.” Gu Qingfeng’s smile never wavered.

Their stares clashed in the confined space, sharper than any weapon. Thick, suffocating possessiveness congealed into a true battlefield.

Meanwhile, in the cockpit, Huo Ze was idly watching the rest cabin’s surveillance feed.

Upon witnessing the scene, he pushed up the bridge of his gold-rimmed glasses, a cold gleam flashing in the lens.

His lips curled into a smile—part curiosity, part malicious amusement.

“An interesting specimen indeed…” he murmured.

On the console before him, a display tracking the hidden force-field’s stability flickered violently as the two S-class spiritual powers collided. A string of red code glitched across, firing off the faintest signal toward an unknown coordinate—then vanishing back to green as if nothing had happened.

The tiny anomaly went completely unnoticed by the three men locked on their “prey.”

By the second day of the voyage—

The stealth ship drifted through the pitch-dark starway like a forgotten speck of dust.

Inside, Ning Ning’s spirit had stabilized somewhat, but his body remained exhausted, dragging him into endless sleep.

From his haze, he stirred awake just enough to realize he was no longer on the sofa—his head was resting against something firm and warm.

When he shifted, that surface subtly adjusted, letting him rest more comfortably.

It was Gu Qingfeng’s lap.

The Second Prince sat stiffly upon the cold floor, his spine straight as a pine tree, allowing Ning Ning to use his thigh as a pillow.

Those hands that once held power and pulled strings now moved with a near-reverent gentleness, combing through Ning Ning’s fluffy silver hair.

Slender fingers wove through the strands with aristocratic grace, savoring the silky texture as if touching moonlight spun into treasure.

He lowered his gaze, tracing every delicate line of Ning Ning’s sleeping profile.

That flawless, porcelain-white face gleamed faintly in the dim light. Long lashes cast soft shadows, trembling faintly with each breath.

Gu Qingfeng’s fingertips brushed over the sensitive skin behind Ning Ning’s ear, drawing a small unconscious sound from the boy’s lips.

Bending down, his black hair fell forward, almost brushing Ning Ning’s cheek. His breath came heavy and controlled, his eyes no longer warm but dark, fathomless, and obsessive.

He wanted to kiss those shut, faintly violet eyelids. He wanted to taste those dry lips. He wanted to burn his existence into Ning Ning’s very soul.

In the end, his kiss fell upon the glowing spiritual mark on Ning Ning’s wrist—the one he himself had left there.

A kiss light and reverent, carrying comfort, yet stamped with unsharable possession.

【…Itchy… Who’s stamping me? Is this clock-in time, or are you issuing me a temporary residence permit…】

Still half-asleep, the corporate slave Ning Ning smacked his lips and burrowed deeper into the trap of warmth.

At that moment—

“Beep.”

The cabin door slid open.

Xie Lin stepped in, carrying a steaming bowl of nutrient porridge. He had just relieved Huo Ze in the cockpit, the chill of the starry sea still clinging to him.

And then he saw it.

His Ning Ning—the treasure he couldn’t bear to scold—nestled peacefully against another man’s lap, docile as a house cat.

And that man gazed at him with naked obsession—had even kissed him.

Clang!

The metal bowl hit the floor, scattering hot porridge across the ground with a jarring crash.

The ship’s temperature seemed to plummet to freezing in an instant.

Gu Qingfeng slowly lifted his head. His face wore the same unhurried smile, as though nothing had happened.

“Marshal, you’re back.” He even offered a reminder, voice mild. “Careful—you’ll scald yourself.”

Xie Lin ignored the mess.

He walked forward, step by heavy step, each one pressing like a weight on the heart.

He didn’t look at Gu Qingfeng. His dark golden wolf’s eyes fixed solely on Ning Ning—still oblivious to the world, resting in another man’s lap—eyes surging with anguish and violence.

Bending down, his movements were paradoxically tender. He carefully lifted Ning Ning away from Gu Qingfeng’s lap and into his own arms, cradling him tight, leaving no space between them.

Only when Ning Ning’s body was completely engulfed in his domineering warmth and scent—erasing all trace of the other man’s—did the storm in his eyes subside, just barely.

Holding Ning Ning close, he finally raised his gaze to the prince still seated on the floor. His voice was hoarse, rasping like sandpaper:

“You crossed the line.”

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