The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 53

The night wind in the imperial capital was icy and piercing.

Xiao Lin carried Ning Ning, every step steady as Mount Tai. The military cloak, imbued with his strong cedar pheromones, wrapped the boy’s slender body tightly, leaving only a small tuft of soft, silver hair swaying gently with his calm stride.

Ten steps behind, Gu Qingfeng followed at a measured pace. It was the perfect distance—close enough to show he was following, but not so near as to intrude. His gentle face revealed no emotion, only a pair of peach-blossom eyes, fathomless and dark, locked onto the tall, resolute figure ahead.

The attendants and imperial guards were frozen in place by the command “Get lost,” helplessly watching the empire’s Marshal and the Second Prince, one leading and one following, carry the unconscious “Moon God” directly out of the palace.

Outside the palace gates, the Marshal’s military hovercar waited silently in the shadows. Its matte black lines were sharp, like a silent steel beast.

The door slid open soundlessly. Xiao Lin bent slightly with incredible delicacy, placing Ning Ning carefully into the back seat, careful not to disturb the boy’s sleep with even the slightest jolt. He then sat down, adjusting his posture so Ning Ning’s head could rest comfortably on his lap. From start to finish, his arms remained wrapped around the boy.

Just as the door was about to close, a figure slipped in. Gu Qingfeng, exuding a crisp scent of tea, sat calmly on the opposite side.

The door clicked shut.

Inside the enclosed space, the air suddenly thickened. On one side was domineering coldness, like a Siberian blizzard, infused with cedar. On the other side was gentle warmth, like fresh rain tea, subtle yet pervasive. Around the unconscious Ning Ning, a silent battle of territory unfolded between the two top-tier Alpha pheromones.

Xiao Lin’s gaze was cold enough to drop shards of ice. He only glanced briefly at Gu Qingfeng before returning all his focus to the person in his arms.

Right now, Ning Ning’s condition mattered above all else.

The hovercar glided steadily toward the Marshal’s residence.

Xiao Lin lowered his eyes. His dark-golden irises reflected only Ning Ning’s pale face. The boy’s brow remained furrowed even in unconsciousness, long lashes damp like butterfly wings after a rainstorm—so fragile it made Xiao Lin’s heart tighten painfully.

He reached out with a hand calloused from battle, capable of crushing an enemy’s throat, yet his movements were incongruously hesitant. He wanted to smooth the crease between Ning Ning’s brows, but his fingertips stopped just short of touching the skin.

He was afraid his hands were too rough and might hurt him.

In the end, he only let the pad of his finger brush gently against Ning Ning’s icy cheek.

Warm. Soft.

Alive.

That realization pressed Xiao Lin’s heart down slightly, which had almost burst from fear and rage. The murderous intent in his chest subsided a little, replaced by a deep, obsessive fear.

This must never happen again.

Never.

…

“…Cold…”

Ning Ning felt as if he had fallen into an ice pit, the chill cutting into him from all sides. He seemed to be back in his previous life’s office, central air blowing relentlessly onto his workstation, endless reports before him.

[Host, please complete the ‘mock the male lead’s body’ mission immediately, or points will be deducted.]
[Host, make a vicious comment to the supporting female character.]

The system’s voice mixed with the sound of keyboards, making his head ache. He tried to escape, but his limbs felt bound. The putrid, plant-scented liquid was forced to his mouth, prying open his jaws…

“No… don’t…”

He struggled violently, only to sink into an even deeper darkness.

Just as he thought he would be completely consumed, a wave of warmth suddenly enveloped him.

It felt strange, like being shoved into a scalding embrace on the coldest winter day. The familiar scent of post-snow pine, strong yet gentle, drove away all the cold and fear.

He was no longer falling.

Unconsciously, he nestled closer to the source of warmth, his tense body relaxing, letting out a faint, dependent murmur.

…

The Marshal’s residence was a famous military fortress in the imperial capital. As the hovercar entered, the heavy alloy gates slowly closed behind them with a muffled roar, blocking any outside intrusion.

“Lock down.”

Xiao Lin carried Ning Ning out and threw the two words to his quick-stepping adjutant.

“No one is to enter or leave.”

The adjutant’s heart jolted at the sight of the unconscious boy in the Marshal’s arms, immediately bowing: “Yes, Marshal!”

He knew the residence had entered the highest level of wartime alert.

Gu Qingfeng followed behind, watching silently. A faint, enigmatic smile curved his lips.

Taking someone back, then locking them up.

Very Xiao Lin. Simple, rough.

A pity… too rough.

The Marshal’s bedroom was as minimalist and cold as he was. Outside the large floor-to-ceiling window stretched the imperial city nightscape; inside, there was only a bed, a desk, and a row of wardrobes. The air was saturated with the owner’s commanding pheromones, an invisible net asserting dominance.

Xiao Lin placed Ning Ning on his wide military bed. The boy’s small frame sank into the deep gray sheets, making his face look even paler, his body even thinner.

He stood at the bedside, his tall shadow looming like a mountain, shielding the one on the bed from all storms.

Seeing a few strands of silver hair stuck to Ning Ning’s forehead with cold sweat, he silently walked to the washroom and returned with a towel soaked in warm water.

He sat back at the edge of the bed, the mattress compressing under his weight. Carefully wringing the towel and testing its temperature, he used his battle-hardened hands to slowly, meticulously wipe the boy’s cheeks and forehead.

His movements were slow, focused, as if dismantling a delicate bomb.

As the warm towel brushed his face, Ning Ning seemed soothed even in unconsciousness, his furrowed brow softening slightly.

“…Cold…”

Another faint murmur, like a kitten’s paw gently scratching at Xiao Lin’s heart.

He paused.

Dropping the towel, he pulled the blanket over the boy, tucking it tightly up to his chin, leaving only his sleeping face exposed.

Even after this, he felt it was not enough.

Seeing Ning Ning’s lips still lacking color, he paused for a moment, then decisively removed his military boots and slipped under the covers beside the boy.

He didn’t touch him, only turned to lie on his side, keeping a restrained distance, using his furnace-like body heat to form a protective wall around the boy.

The bedroom was silent except for their soft breathing.

Watching Ning Ning’s peaceful, fragile sleeping face, the rage and murderous intent in Xiao Lin’s heart gradually eased, leaving a nearly unfamiliar emotion.

Cherishing, fear, and an obsessive desire to hide this person completely.

The world was full of danger. The palace, the banquets, the hypocritical nobles, even his so-called family… not a single place was safe.

Only here, under his wings.

Xiao Lin’s gaze darkened, a burning obsession flickering in his pupils. He reached out and gently held Ning Ning’s hand that had slipped outside the blanket.

The wrist was so slender it seemed it could break with a little pressure, the skin icy.

He slowly enclosed it with his large palm, warming it little by little.

From now on, you don’t need to go anywhere.

Just stay with me.

I will build you the strongest fortress, bring you the best the world has to offer, as long as you stay here, with me alone.

You are mine.

And only mine.

Meanwhile, outside the Marshal’s residence:

Gu Qingfeng’s hovercar remained silently in the shadows. He didn’t leave or try to barge in.

He leaned elegantly in his seat, drumming his fingertips on his knee. His always-smiling peach-blossom eyes gazed at the brightly lit yet iron-clad residence, smile warm yet cold.

Trying to lock away a god as personal property?

Marshal, you’re far too naive.

Dealing with treasures requires patience and strategy.

He took out his personal terminal and dialed a secure number.

“It’s me.” His voice was calm, yet carried an unchallengeable command.

“Immediately contact the Imperial Medical Academy. Use my office’s name to issue an official letter of the highest priority.”

The person on the other end acknowledged respectfully.

“The content should read: ‘Moon God’ Ning Ning’s spiritual sea is injured; he urgently requires treatment from an S-class guide. I, the empire’s only guide capable of this, will assume full responsibility for his recovery.’”

Gu Qingfeng continued, “Also, prepare a top-tier ‘royal consolation gift.’ Then find the clause in the Imperial Code protecting national heroes and rare guides, especially the one stating, ‘No one shall restrict personal freedom or hinder necessary treatment for any reason,’ and mark it in red.”

“All documents, in triplicate, stamped with the royal seal, delivered to the Marshal’s residence by the Royal Guard before dawn.”

He paused, a deeper smile playing on his lips.

“Tomorrow morning, let’s see what our Marshal Xiao Lin will choose: his ‘private desire’ or his ‘position.’”

“After all, I’m going to ‘rescue’ our little hero. Anyone who dares to stop me will be opposing the entire empire.”

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