The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 58

Gu Qingfeng’s words were like a poisoned feather, lightly scratching at the taut nerves in the room.

“Showing everyone how precious Ningning is?” Xiao Lin finally spoke, his voice low and deep, as if it came from the depths of the earth itself. Every word carried shards of ice. “To let everyone see clearly who is most suitable to stand by his side?”

He sneered, a sound completely devoid of warmth—pure, unmasked mockery and hostility.

“Gu Qingfeng, put away your royal pretenses,” Xiao Lin’s dark-golden eyes narrowed dangerously. “He is mine. That is something that does not need to be proven to anyone.”

Gu Qingfeng’s smile didn’t falter in the slightest, as if Xiao Lin’s S-class sentinel pheromones—capable of freezing the air—had no effect on him. He just gently shook his head, his tone calm and composed, yet carrying a transcendent, almost condescending clarity.

“Marshal, now is not the time to assert your dominance. We both know very well that Father’s ‘celebratory banquet’ is a trap. The target isn’t you, nor me—it’s Ningning.”

His gaze passed over Xiao Lin and rested on the small figure firmly protected behind him, deep and penetrating.

“Can you, alone, withstand the pressure of the entire imperial power?” Gu Qingfeng’s words were like a precise scalpel, cutting through the reality Xiao Lin most refused to admit. “If you resist the imperial decree, you’ll play right into Father’s hands. If you bring him to the banquet, it’s like sending him straight into the tiger’s mouth. You… have no choice.”

Xiao Lin’s aura of murderous intent thickened; he stared at Gu Qingfeng as if he were about to tear this slick-tongued prince to pieces.

Ningning clutched at the edge of Xiao Lin’s coat behind him, nervous. Although he couldn’t grasp all the implications, he sensed that things had suddenly become extremely, extremely complicated.

Gu Qingfeng seemed unfazed by Xiao Lin’s killing intent. He stepped forward, lowering his voice, the tone imbued with a kind of seductive sincerity.

“So, I’ve come to offer you a suggestion.”

“A temporary ceasefire. A collaboration…”

The last four words were uttered so softly that they detonated like a bomb in Xiao Lin’s mind.

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Xiao Lin’s chest heaved violently as he stared at this eternally smiling, ever-irritating rival, his heart a stormy sea.

Reason told him that Gu Qingfeng was right. This was the only way to break the stalemate.

Emotionally, however, collaborating with him felt like admitting, with his own mouth, that he couldn’t protect his precious one alone—a feeling more unbearable than killing him.

Ningning peeked out from behind, watching the silent, sparks-flying standoff between the two top men of the empire, his mind racing with little commentary.

[System! What am I seeing?! The two male leads are actually teaming up for me?! Is this the legendary “heartthrob treatment”? Though… I feel like the next second they might start fighting…]

[Remain calm,] System 89’s voice was also slightly excited, [this is a classic “rivals-turned-allies” scenario, uniting against an external threat! So… so fan-service-worthy!]

After a long, tense pause—long enough for Ningning to feel the air itself might freeze—Xiao Lin finally ground out two words through his teeth:

“…Fine.”

He added, black-faced, “After the banquet, we’ll settle things between us.”

“Of course,” Gu Qingfeng’s smile deepened, his objective achieved. He performed an elegant bow. “Then I won’t disturb the Marshal while he prepares Ningning. Looking forward to our ‘collaboration’ in three days.”

He turned and left, and the crisp scent of herbs and woods dissipated along with him.

Once the door closed, only Xiao Lin and Ningning remained in the room.

The fury and possessiveness that had been temporarily suppressed by the external threat now returned multiplied.

Without a word, Xiao Lin walked to the wardrobe and activated the holographic projection. In an instant, countless exquisite and luxurious banquet outfits appeared before them.

Ningning looked on, his eyes nearly swimming with awe.

Xiao Lin’s expression, however, grew darker by the moment.

“This one, neckline too low.” He swept a hand over a gown with a slightly open collar—pass.

“This one, lace sleeves, reveals the arms.” Pass.

“Pants too tight.” Pass.

“Color too conspicuous.” Pass.

Ningning gaped, watching Xiao Lin reject one “perfect” outfit after another, with standards that seemed harsher than a military intelligence review.

He realized the Marshal wasn’t picking clothes for him—he was crafting a human-shaped suit of armor.

Finally, Xiao Lin’s gaze settled on one outfit.

It was a pure white ensemble, simple to the point of asceticism. The high collar buttoned tightly to the chin, long sleeves covered the wrists, and tailored pants fully enclosed the legs—no skin exposed at all.

[…] Ningning’s inner thoughts: Marshal… we’re attending a state banquet, not pledging vows in a monastery.

But Xiao Lin seemed thoroughly satisfied with his choice.

He materialized the outfit, the fabric soft yet glossy, radiating understated luxury.

“Go change.” His tone left no room for argument.

Ningning hugged the conservative garment and stepped into the changing room, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, but also enveloped in a strange sense of safety.

He knew this man truly wanted to hide him, to prevent anyone from laying eyes on him.

When Ningning emerged in the outfit, Xiao Lin’s breath caught for a moment.

The pure white color accentuated the boy’s already pale, almost translucent skin, his silver hair soft and fluffy. Though completely covered, the delicate, fragile beauty seemed even more striking under the protective confinement.

Xiao Lin’s Adam’s apple moved. He stepped forward and, with rough but careful hands, adjusted the high collar to remove every wrinkle, ensuring the fragile, beautiful neck remained fully covered.

His fingertips brushed Ningning’s skin inadvertently, the heat making Ningning shiver.

Ningning tilted his head up, meeting those dark-golden eyes.

There was no anger, no killing intent—only possessiveness so tangible it seemed solid, and an overwhelming, unrelenting worry.

He was afraid.

Afraid that at the banquet, countless eyes—just like his own—would greedily stare at his precious one.

Ningning’s heart melted immediately.

He stood obediently, allowing this man to craft his “shield” in a clumsy yet domineering manner.

Amid this brief silence, the butler reported again:

“Marshal, Second Prince has sent a gift, saying it’s… to complement Master Ningning’s attire.”

The moment the words fell, Xiao Lin’s face turned blacker than a pot bottom.

A delicate velvet box was presented.

Xiao Lin’s aura dropped sharply, yet he still took it. In front of Ningning, he opened the box.

Inside lay an exquisitely crafted brooch.

It was a nine-tailed fox made of mithril, elegant and sly in form. Its nine tails spread dynamically, and its eyes were two tiny sapphires that sparkled faintly.

Ningning’s eyes lit up. So beautiful.

Beside the brooch was a card, with Gu Qingfeng’s graceful handwriting:

“To my treasure, may it shield you from all prying eyes.”

The next second, Gu Qingfeng’s holographic image appeared in the room, still wearing that perfect smile, his gaze resting on Ningning.

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