The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 63

The oppressive aura of all beasts bowing had yet to dissipate. The dark-golden giant wolf still stood before Ning Ning like an insurmountable mountain, its throat suppressing a deadly roar that could erupt at any moment.

The entire hall was so silent that one could hear the blood rushing through their veins.

On the throne, the old emperor—ill to the point of being near death—suddenly emitted a terrifying vitality. He felt no fear, no shock; his cloudy old eyes blazed with greed and fanaticism a hundred times more intense than before.

He was like a traveler who had crossed the desert for half a lifetime, about to die of thirst, finally seeing the legendary life-giving spring.

“Divine… miracle…”

The emperor’s hoarse voice sounded like an old, worn-out bellows, each word scraping through the air yet carrying clearly across the hall.

“It’s a true divine miracle!”

He struggled, supported in his staggering rise by his alarmed attendants, and slowly stood from the throne. His emaciated body seemed ready to collapse at any moment, yet his hawk-like eyes were locked on Ning Ning. That gaze was no longer mere possession—it sought to drill into him, refine him into a pill, and swallow him into the emperor’s decayed body.

“Escort… Lord ‘Moon God’… back to the palace!”

The words “Moon God” were enunciated with heavy weight, as if they were a code for some priceless treasure.

Back to the palace.

Not back to the Ning family home, nor the Marshal’s residence.

It meant imprisonment. It meant turning him into a bird caged in gold, forever singing for the emperor’s power.

Those two words struck like a thunderbolt in Xiao Lin’s nerves.

His already icy aura instantly dropped to subzero, as if fine shards of ice had crystallized in the air.

The emperor’s greed pierced like a red-hot iron spike into the deepest, untouchable nerve of his heart.

What rituals of lord and subject, what imperial law—at this moment, they were all thrown to the winds.

His treasure, the life he had regained, had only just displayed such fragile brilliance before him. How could he allow anyone to touch it?

Before the Imperial Guards could move, Xiao Lin acted.

Fast as a shadow.

Without hesitation, he stretched out his long arms, bent his body, and in a posture that was both protective and absolute in power, scooped up the barely conscious boy who had overexerted his spiritual power.

“Ugh…!”

Ning Ning felt the world spin; his body suddenly weightless, he fell into an incredibly firm, burning-hot embrace.

He was completely stunned.

His body was soft like mud with its bones extracted, lacking the strength to even lift a finger. His consciousness felt like it was behind a thick layer of frosted glass, drowsy, unable to hear the surrounding shouts or see the alarmed faces.

But he could smell it.

That familiar, overwhelmingly dominant yet inexplicably comforting scent of cedar—enveloping him completely, blocking all malice from the outside world. Fierce, domineering, like a gentle blizzard, instantly isolating him from all threats.

So warm…

Like finally finding a blazing fireplace in an endless snowstorm.

His mind barely able to think, his body instinctively moved closer to that solid, wide warmth. His little face pressed lightly against the firm chest under the man’s military coat, seeking a more comfortable position.

He could even hear, through the fabric, the steady and strong heartbeat.

Thump… thump… thump…

Like the most secure lullaby.

This subtle, wholly trusting gesture made Xiao Lin’s arms tighten instinctively around him. The usually icy, statue-like face of the Marshal softened slightly.

He lowered his head, gazing at the obedient boy in his arms, and in those dark-golden fiery eyes flickered a satisfaction so near to obsession that even he hadn’t realized it.

Then, he lifted his head, holding his regained treasure, and his frigid, bone-piercing gaze swept across the hall.

Wherever it passed, even the crawling beasts or the terrified nobles, all lowered their heads, unwilling to meet it.

Finally, his gaze—like two unsheathed blades—pierced through the hall and fixed on the pale-faced emperor on the throne.

No honorifics, no request, not even the slightest trace of subservience.

He spoke as a statement of fact, unchallengeable, word by word:

“He’s tired.”

Pausing as if allowing the words to sink in, he then added the second part:

“I’m taking him home.”

Home.

The words fell like a thunderclap in the silent hall.

Everyone present understood that this “home” referred not to the palace, but the Marshal’s residence!

This was open defiance!

This was the Marshal, commander of the empire’s mightiest army, directly, unapologetically challenging the supreme imperial authority!

“Impudent! Xiao Lin! Are you rebelling?!”

The crown prince’s face immediately flushed from blue to purple, finally finding an opportunity to speak, yelling sharply. With a wave of his hand, the Imperial Guards who had been itching to act immediately raised their weapons and stepped forward, encircling Xiao Lin.

The tension was about to erupt.

Yet a figure moved faster than the guards.

Gu Qingfeng stepped forward, perfectly positioning himself between Xiao Lin and the armed guards.

His face still bore that flawless, gentle smile, as if the tense situation was merely an inconsequential stage play.

To the confused guards and the trembling emperor, he slightly bowed, his posture exquisitely elegant.

“The Marshal’s words are reasonable.”

His voice, clear and soft, like a stream of water, effortlessly diffused the tension.

“Everyone has seen with their own eyes that Lord ‘Moon God’ just displayed a divine miracle, subjugating the beasts. Such an exertion surely requires absolute rest at this moment.”

He paused, lifting his smiling peach-blossom eyes over the crown prince and finally the emperor. His tone carried an undeniable concern.

“Your Majesty, Crown Prince, the ‘Moon God’ is the empire’s treasure, the hope of the future, and must not suffer any harm. If forcibly moved now, what if… damage occurs to the foundation…”

He left the sentence hanging, a subtle sigh conveying more weight than any words.

This responsibility, he implied, could fall on no one present.

His words were flawless, cleverly twisting Xiao Lin’s “defiance” into a necessary act to protect the empire’s most precious asset.

Who would dare risk “damaging the empire’s treasure” to follow the emperor’s obviously selfish order?

The crown prince, trapped by this logic, veins throbbing, was left speechless.

Meanwhile, Ning Ning, in the warmth and security of Xiao Lin’s arms, could only perform his final mental rant:

Help…

What kind of classic scenario is this—rival lovers turned allies, teaming up to snatch me away?

And why are there two people? One hugging, one protecting. Are we reenacting some “Divine Condor Heroes” drama? Am I the egg?

Held steadily like a priceless treasure, his chest hard but warm enough to bring tears, and with Gu Qingfeng acting as the perfect knight, clearing all obstacles with words.

One using martial might, one using clever speech.

One dad-like enforced affection, one cunning and subtle.

A flawless team.

Trapped in the middle, Ning Ning could only think: my “heartthrob corporate slave” career is getting more absurd by the minute.

His heavy eyelids barely lifted a slit. In the blurry view, he saw Xiao Lin’s firm, tense jaw, and could feel the subtle vibration caused by suppressed anger through the chest. At the same time, Gu Qingfeng’s clear, moonlight-like spiritual energy formed an invisible protective layer, calming the restless air and shielding them from prying eyes.

Amid the deathly silence, under the emperor’s greed-filled gaze, the empire’s strongest sentinel and its wisest prince, flanking the boy, stepped forward, never looking back, leaving the chaotic battlefield behind.

The dark-golden giant wolf silently followed, its molten-gold eyes coldly scanning the surroundings, like the most loyal and deadly shadow, escorting its king and his one and only treasure… home.

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