The Beloved Guide Was Forced in a Love-Rival Shura Field - Chapter 99

The rainy night in the imperial capital was always cold and fierce.

The large raindrops “pitter-pattered” against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Marshal’s study, quickly blurring the glass with a veil of moisture. Outside, the carefully tended rare flowers and trees in the courtyard were reduced to heavy, silent black shapes.

But inside the study, it was warm enough to make one feel lazy.

The flames in the fireplace burned brightly, occasionally emitting soft “crackling” sounds. The thick, soft wool carpet absorbed every excess noise, leaving the entire space so quiet that only the warmth remained.

Ning Ning sat cross-legged on the carpet, a pile of basic military documents—none of them classified—spread before him.

This was the first time Xiao Lin had allowed him to look at such materials.

He studied them with exceptional focus, his silver hair catching the warm yellow light, soft and fluffy like a little dandelion. Occasionally, he would extend his pale fingers to help Xiao Lin organize the scattered papers, moving carefully as if handling something incredibly important.

Xiao Lin sat behind him on the sofa, doing neither official work nor reading.

He was simply watching Ning Ning.

The Imperial Marshal leaned back, his tall frame casting a calm shadow in the lamplight. His black eyes, which could silence a child’s cry on the battlefield, had let go of all their usual coldness and sharpness, focusing intently on the small figure on the carpet.

Watching how Ning Ning would wrinkle his nose at an incomprehensible term, bite his lower lip unconsciously, or smooth out the creases in the papers with such careful fingers—this brought Xiao Lin a sense of satisfaction and peace greater than winning any interstellar battle.

This tangible, visible serenity was the most effective sedative, gradually calming the unrest in his mind that had been stirred by years of constant warfare.

At that moment, amid the violent storm outside, there seemed to be a faint, discordant metallic clash.

The sound was so soft it was almost drowned out by the rain, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

Ning Ning did not notice. He was still fretting over a weapons model in one of the documents, murmuring, “How is this different from the previous one…”

But Xiao Lin’s gaze hardened instantly.

It was a predator’s alert, cold to the bone, carrying unmistakable murderous intent.

He didn’t move a muscle, yet his presence changed entirely. It was as if invisible tendrils had silently spread from his shadow, turning the entire Marshal’s residence into a lethal web.

Ning Ning only gradually realized something was off and blinked his large, violet eyes in confusion.

He tilted his head to listen, but the rain was too loud—he could hear nothing.

“…Did I hear something?” he asked uncertainly.

Xiao Lin’s face, which could freeze everything with a single glance, melted in an instant, as if it had never been cold.

He stood from the sofa, moving with deliberate calm, showing no tension. He first went to the side bar, poured a cup of warm milk, tested the temperature, and then returned to Ning Ning, bending to hand it to him.

The warmth of the milk seeped through the cup to Ning Ning’s fingers.

“The wind is strong outside; it might have made some noise,” Xiao Lin’s voice was low and steady, betraying no abnormality. “I’ll go take a look.”

As he spoke, he rubbed Ning Ning’s hair with one hand, warm and dry, with a light touch that soothed like calming a frightened little animal.

“You just watch, drink the milk slowly so you don’t burn yourself.”

Then he turned and walked toward the study door, his steps steady, his back straight like an unyielding mountain.

The heavy study door closed softly behind him with a “click,” separating inside from outside into two completely different worlds.

Outside the door: wind, rain, and murderous intent.

Inside: warm lamplight and the cup of steaming, fragrant milk in Ning Ning’s hands.

Ning Ning held the cup, taking small sips without giving it much thought.

He trusted Xiao Lin completely.

With him around, it seemed the sky could fall and he would never have to worry. He could handle anything.

He lowered his head and returned to his documents, though his ears instinctively pricked, trying to catch sounds from outside. Yet, apart from the rain, nothing could be heard—not even the faint noise from before.

About five or six minutes later, just as he was finishing his milk, the study door opened again.

Xiao Lin walked in, not a drop of rain on him. His crisp military uniform had not a crease, his expression as calm as ever.

“Did you finish?” Ning Ning looked up at him, his violet eyes shining in the lamplight.

“Mm,” Xiao Lin said as he sat beside him, naturally pointing out the weapon model that had confused him. “A few stray cats were fighting in the backyard, made a bit of noise. They’ve been driven away.”

He spoke casually, as if handling a trivial matter.

“Oh…” Ning Ning nodded, believing him. Just as he was about to continue studying, a faint scent caught his nose.

It mingled with the scent of charcoal from the fireplace and the sweetness of the milk—subtle, but present.

At first, he thought it was his imagination.

But when he inhaled again, the scent became clearer.

Blood.

Light, yet with a damp, metallic tang from the rain.

Ning Ning froze, his fingers tightening around the cup. He instinctively looked up, scanning Xiao Lin carefully.

The man’s uniform was spotless, his hands clean, not a trace of mud on his boots.

Yet the scent lingered, piercing through the warm calm.

Stray cats…

Could a few fighting cats produce such a bloody smell?

His mind raced.

Whatever Xiao Lin had personally gone out to “chase away,” it must have been some kind of monster.

In the few minutes Ning Ning had spent drinking warm milk safely inside, an unseen, silent battle had occurred in the rain-drenched courtyard outside, and this man had shielded him from it, removed every trace of blood and grime from himself, and then returned with the most casual explanation: “Just some stray cats.”

A clumsy, gentle lie.

His heart felt as if gripped by a warm hand, swelling with emotion, and his eyes stung with sudden heat.

He suddenly realized that the peaceful, carefree moments he could enjoy—the simple act of sitting on a carpet, fretting over trivial matters—had been bought with what means by this man.

He said nothing, just placed the cup down and, in Xiao Lin’s slightly surprised eyes, reached out and took the man’s hand on his knee gently, with trust and affection.

Xiao Lin tensed instantly.

He expected Ning Ning to notice something, perhaps to be scared or question him.

But Ning Ning only held his hand, small, soft, and not strong, yet undeniably firm.

Xiao Lin’s body relaxed almost immediately.

He turned his hand over and, in a gesture almost reverent, enveloped the small, soft hand in his palm as if holding the most precious treasure in the world.

Outside, the rain intensified, and the wind grew sharper.

The assassination attempt spurred by the eldest prince’s final madness had ended silently, without disturbing the person at the eye of the storm.

But Xiao Lin knew this was only the beginning.

Once the courtyard of the Marshal’s residence was dyed in blood, it meant patience had run out.

He lowered his gaze to Ning Ning’s calm profile, and within the depths of his black eyes, a cold storm was brewing.

It seemed it was time for some people in the imperial capital to witness a truly bloody dawn.

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