The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 57

The seafood porridge was just the right temperature; its freshness melted on the tip of Ning Ning’s tongue, and the warmth slid down his throat into his stomach, dispelling the last trace of chill in his heart.

Xiao Lin stood not far away, like a silent guardian deity, his dark golden eyes never leaving him for an instant, ensuring that he finished the entire bowl of porridge.

The suffocating pressure had disappeared, replaced by a clumsy yet meticulous care.

Ning Ning held the empty bowl and felt like a well-fed pet with a round, full belly, his face heating slightly.

Just then, the sound of a respectful but nervous announcement came from outside the door.

“Marshal, someone has come from the palace.”

Xiao Lin’s body instantly stiffened. The calmness he had just regained sharpened into a blade-like tension. He motioned for the butler to let the visitor in.

It was a court eunuch dressed in ceremonial attire, wearing a professionally fake smile. He carried a luxurious scroll sealed with golden threads. He didn’t dare raise his eyes to look at Xiao Lin, only glancing quickly at Ning Ning, who was curled under the blanket, a fleeting look of admiration and understanding flashing in his eyes before he quickly lowered his head and began to read the scroll in a formal, measured tone:

“By the decree of the Emperor: The insect tide has receded, the empire is secure—this is a blessing from Heaven and the result of heroic deeds. To honor the courage of the army and the favor of the ‘Moon God,’ a state banquet will be held at the Golden Radiance Palace three days from now, at the highest standard, to celebrate the heroes who subdued the insect tide. Imperial Marshal Xiao Lin and the ‘Moon God’ Ning Ning must attend, by imperial command—”

Each word felt like a steel needle coated in honey, piercing the room.

A sunlit trap.

One that could not be refused.

Under the guise of a “victory banquet,” Ning Ning was being pushed directly before the entire empire.

To go was to walk straight into a trap, putting Ning Ning under the Emperor’s scrutiny.

Not to go was to disobey an imperial edict, proving arrogance based on achievement, and putting Ning Ning in a position of disloyalty.

When the eunuch finished, cold sweat soaked his back. The air around him seemed to freeze into ice, weighed down by the silent fury of the Imperial Marshal, mixed with the scorching scent of his pine-like pheromones, almost crushing his bones.

“…Marshal, please… accept the decree,” the eunuch stammered.

Xiao Lin didn’t move; he didn’t even glance at the eunuch. His gaze seemed to pierce the very space, as if it could burn a hole through the distant palace.

After a long pause, he finally ground out a single word through clenched teeth:

“Leave.”

The eunuch, as if granted a great pardon, scrambled out, leaving the scroll on the table in a rush.

The door shut, and the world instantly fell silent.

Yet Ning Ning felt the room’s air pressure was a hundred times heavier than when the eunuch had been there.

Xiao Lin stood motionless, a towering shadow. The S-class sentinel pheromones he exuded had spiraled out of control, carrying a scorching, destructive aura, as if pine needles had been set ablaze. Some glassware in the room even began to hum under the strain.

He didn’t roar, didn’t throw anything, but the silent, almost imminent eruption of fury was more terrifying than any form of outburst.

His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening, veins bulging like coiled dragons.

Ning Ning’s heart tightened.

He wasn’t afraid.

He just… felt heartache.

He knew this man had been pushed to such a limit because of him.

“System, he seems really upset.” Ning Ning whispered in his mind. “It’s like our team leader being scolded by the boss in front of everyone, unable to talk back… so pitiful.”

“Host…” System 89’s voice was weak, “this is a sunlit trap. The Marshal is being grilled on the fire. If he loses his temper, he falls into the trap; if he doesn’t, he must endure it.”

Ning Ning bit his lower lip.

He lifted the blanket and stepped barefoot onto the soft carpet, moving carefully toward Xiao Lin.

The man remained immersed in his anger, oblivious to his approach.

Ning Ning looked up at him; the tightly pressed line of his lips carried a resolve that could destroy the world.

He hesitated, then extended his small, still-warm hand.

His fingertips gently, tentatively touched Xiao Lin’s clenched, steel-crushing fist.

Soft met hard.

Warm met burning hot.

“Don’t be angry…”

Ning Ning’s voice was tiny, soft and fluffy like a wisp of cotton, lightly landing on the volcano about to erupt.

“…okay?”

In that instant, Xiao Lin’s massive frame trembled.

The furious, overwhelming pheromones and rage that could have shaken the entire Marshal’s mansion vanished in a single second, like a balloon punctured.

Time seemed to stop.

He slowly, almost incredulously, lowered his gaze to the small hand resting on his fist.

Then, his eyes met Ning Ning’s clear purple ones, tinged with awkward concern.

The Emperor’s scheme, the empire’s future, the military’s strategy—all of it—was cast aside in that moment.

His heart, once filled with anger and murderous intent, softened utterly, tinged with a warm, bittersweet feeling of being cherished.

The problem remained unsolved.

Yet he felt healed.

Xiao Lin’s tightly clenched fist slowly, painstakingly, released, careful not to hurt the fragile hand.

He reversed his hand, letting his rough, warm palm gently, reverently envelop Ning Ning’s small hand.

His treasure.

Worrying for him.

Just as this moment of tenderness was about to bloom, an irritating announcement rang again.

“Marshal, His Highness the Second Prince… requests an audience.” The butler’s voice was more embarrassed than before.

Xiao Lin’s brow instantly furrowed, the fury that had just dissipated threatening to flare again.

Before he could refuse, a warm, mellow voice came from the doorway, carrying a crisp scent of herbs that skillfully diluted the lingering tension in the room.

“Seems I’ve come at the wrong time, disturbing the Marshal.”

Gu Qingfeng walked in slowly, always wearing a flawless smile. His gaze paused for a second on their interlocked hands, though the smile in his eyes had dimmed slightly.

He acted as if he hadn’t noticed the murderous glare Xiao Lin could unleash, and spoke: “I’ve heard the Emperor’s decree.”

He looked at Xiao Lin, his smile carrying a depth that others could not read.

“Marshal, why worry so much?” Gu Qingfeng’s tone was gentle, soothing, but his words were like a soft blade. “Perhaps, the Emperor’s banquet is not a bad thing.”

Xiao Lin glared at him coldly, silent.

Gu Qingfeng shifted his gaze to Ning Ning, still sheltered behind Xiao Lin. His voice grew softer, like a lover’s whisper, yet carried an unmistakable assertion:

“This is also an opportunity to show the whole empire how precious Ning Ning is.”

He paused, his smile deepening, eyes locking onto Xiao Lin’s. Each word came clear and deliberate:

“And let everyone see clearly who is most suited to stand by him, guarding this treasure. Don’t you think so, Marshal?”

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