The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 91

The droplet suspended at Ning Ning’s fingertip completely overturned the very definition of “blood.”

It wasn’t red.

Instead, it looked like a tiny sun condensed millions of times over, radiating a soft, almost sacred golden light.

There wasn’t a trace of metallic or bloody smell. On the contrary, it carried an indescribable sweetness, like the first breath of a newborn star, instantly dispelling the sharp scent of disinfectant that had filled the medical room.

Vast, pure, and ancient life energy flowed with that speck of light, illuminating the cold, oppressive room with warmth.

Gu Qingfeng’s breath stopped entirely when he saw that golden liquid.

He froze in place, as if under a paralysis spell, his mind utterly blank. All rationality, all schemes, all strategies collapsed in that moment.

He could do nothing but watch.

Watch as the boy he had tried so hard to approach, to cradle gently in his hands, lowered his fingers—brimming with the blood of a god—with such care, such tenderness, to the lips of his greatest enemy: Xiao Lin.

The golden aura outlined the boy’s perfect profile.

Divine. Fragile.

Beautiful, like a god about to be sacrificed.

Yet in those stunning violet eyes, there shone a resoluteness that made the heart quiver.

Ning Ning’s gaze remained fixed on Xiao Lin’s pale face the entire time. His voice was barely audible, like a lover whispering by a pillow, yet weighted with the gravity of a vow carved into the soul.

“Xiao Lin… you said you would always like me.”

“So… don’t die.”

“I will give everything of mine… to bring you back.”

As his words fell, the droplet of divine golden blood slid silently from his pale fingertip.

It did not fall.

Instead, the instant it touched Xiao Lin’s cracked lips, it seemed to possess life itself—actively merging into him, vanishing completely.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that instant.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Nothing happened.

Desperate silence returned, heavy and suffocating.

Gu Qingfeng’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Could it be… even this legendary power couldn’t save him?

Just as he was about to give up hope—

“Beep… beep… beep…”

The life-support monitor, whose green line representing the heartbeat had been so weak it nearly merged with the baseline, suddenly showed a tiny upward twitch!

So small it could have been a hallucination.

But Gu Qingfeng’s S-rank eyes caught it!

Then a second. A third.

The line, as if injected with boundless energy, pulsed more strongly and steadily with each beat!

“Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!”

The monotonous sound turned urgent yet stable, like a triumphant hymn to life!

On the screen, all the red indicators of critical danger were violently dragged upward by an invisible hand, one by one surpassing the warning line, all turning green, returning steadily to normal!

A miracle!

No—this was not a miracle!

This was a true divine sign, defying all imperial medical theories, overturning the laws of life itself!

Gu Qingfeng’s pupils constricted violently. He almost lunged at the monitor, eyes glued to the unbelievable data, then abruptly turned to the hospital bed.

Xiao Lin’s corpse-like gray face was visibly regaining color!

The bluish-purple of his lips gradually flushed with life, his tightly furrowed brow eased, and his short, faint breaths became long and steady.

He had come back to life.

Truly… alive.

And the one who created this divine sign—the “god” responsible?

Gu Qingfeng’s heart was gripped as if by an icy hand. He stiffly turned his gaze toward Ning Ning.

Ning Ning still leaned forward, maintaining that posture, but his complexion had become pale as translucent paper, with the faint blue veins beneath his skin clearly visible.

The brilliant flame that once blazed in his violet eyes had been extinguished, leaving only hollow, gray desolation.

One droplet of golden blood had exchanged for Xiao Lin’s life.

Yet at Ning Ning’s fingertip, the small wound that should have healed instantly continued to seep that golden liquid without end.

It was not blood.

It was his power, his very life essence.

“Enough…”

Gu Qingfeng’s throat emitted a hoarse, inhuman growl.

He wanted to rush forward, to press on that wound, to stop this near-suicidal sacrifice.

But his legs felt like lead, weighed down by a thousand pounds, unable to move.

Why?

Why should he stop it?

He had said it himself to Ning Ling: “I can’t save him.”

He had whispered cruelly, coaxing and manipulating: “But perhaps… only you can.”

He had even handed Ning Ning the cold, glinting surgical knife.

Jealousy.

Utter, boundless jealousy, like the deadliest vine, wrapped around his heart and squeezed, making it impossible to breathe, his vision going black.

He was jealous of Xiao Lin.

Jealous to madness!

Why? Why was it Xiao Lin—

Who could receive such unconditional, selfless love from Ning Ning, risking everything without hesitation?

In this struggle, he had lost.

From the moment Ning Ning cut his finger without a second thought, he had been utterly defeated, body and soul shattered, with no chance of turning the tide.

Because he could never do what Xiao Lin did: instinctively, with his very soul, shield Ning Ning from a deadly blow.

And so, he could never receive Ning Ning’s singular devotion, returned with the offering of his life.

At that moment, Ning Ning’s body wavered slightly.

He felt so cold… so exhausted.

His strength had been utterly drained by an invisible black hole, leaving his limbs hollow and empty. The only warmth came from the hand holding Xiao Lin’s, which now began to return life, no longer stiff and cold.

That’s enough.

That’s… enough.

Unconsciously, a faint, contented smile curved at the corner of Ning Ning’s lips.

The world spun, sounds faded away, and eventually everything plunged into darkness.

He could no longer hold himself up. His body went limp, knees buckled, and he collapsed toward the cold floor.

“Ning Ning!”

Just as he was about to fall, a figure dashed forward like lightning, catching him with strong arms as he trembled in fear.

It was Gu Qingfeng.

He had finally moved.

He almost lunged, using every ounce of his strength to catch Ning Ning.

The person in his arms felt as light as a feather, icy to the touch, completely unconscious.

Gu Qingfeng held him tightly, trying to warm him with his own body heat. He lowered his head, staring at Ning Ning’s pale, bloodless face, and the wound at his fingertip, which had stopped bleeding but still shone so brilliantly it pained his heart.

Pain radiated from his chest, sharp and relentless, nearly causing him to convulse.

He had lost.

Lost.

Yet looking at this person who had exhausted everything for another, he could not summon even a trace of resentment.

Only boundless, bottomless powerlessness remained.

And a kind of heartache so piercing, he had never even acknowledged it to himself…

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