Xiao Lin didn't cry.
Not when Sheng Long walked away.
Not when the night deepened and the garden turned cold.
Instead, he pressed a hand to his heart — where the jade fox pendant lay — and made a promise to himself:
If the Marshal wouldn't reach for him, then he would reach for the future himself.
The next few days, Xiao Lin threw himself into training with a new ferocity that surprised even Yan Shuo and Lu Jian.
From sunrise to sunset, he honed his techniques. His fox form grew more agile, more dazzling — silver lightning darting across the training fields.
His mental powers sharpened too, growing brighter and more dangerous with each meditation. Small objects danced around him without touch. Healing sparks hummed at his fingertips.
Everyone could see it:
Xiao Lin was no longer the timid ger of the past.
He was becoming something — someone — that could stand at the Marshal's side.
Maybe even beyond.
Meanwhile, the threat loomed ever closer.
Whispers among the loyal forces spoke of strange movements within the Zerg. Their attacks, once chaotic and animalistic, were growing strategic. Calculated.
"They fear something," Yan Shuo murmured to Sheng Long one evening in the command tent. "They move like creatures sensing their predator."
Sheng Long's eyes darkened.
The healing ability... Xiao Lin...
The Zerg had realized that someone capable of restoring damaged beast nuclei could turn the tide of the war.
And they were hunting.
One afternoon, as Xiao Lin practiced his fox form in the garden, a shadow crossed his path.
"Impressive," came a smooth voice.
Xiao Lin turned, wary.
It was Ren Yi — a young, handsome officer newly transferred from a border station. He was tall and lean, with golden-brown hair and a casual, confident air.
Ren Yi smiled disarmingly. "Spar with me?"
Xiao Lin hesitated, but nodded.
They trained under the sun, light-hearted at first, Ren Yi teasing and laughing, praising Xiao Lin's agility and strength.
"You're incredible, Lin," Ren Yi said warmly after a quick spar, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're going to outshine everyone here soon."
The casual affection made Xiao Lin blink, unused to such open friendliness.
From a distance, dark eyes watched.
Sheng Long stood half-shadowed beneath a nearby tree, arms crossed, jaw tight.
He saw Ren Yi laugh — saw Xiao Lin's startled, shy smile in return — and something deep inside him twisted.
He turned sharply and stalked away before he did something reckless.
That evening, the palace held a dinner for the senior officers. A stiff, formal affair.
Xiao Lin was seated beside Ren Yi and Lu Jian, across from Sheng Long.
The Marshal barely touched his food, his gaze a flinty weight whenever Ren Yi leaned too close to Xiao Lin or whispered a joke that made the ger laugh.
Xiao Lin noticed.
He noticed the tight set of Sheng Long's shoulders.
The way he barely spoke unless directly addressed.
The coldness in his silver eyes — a coldness that wasn't there before.
And for the first time, Xiao Lin smiled a little to himself, hope flickering like a flame.
Maybe... maybe I'm not the only one struggling.
After dinner, Xiao Lin lingered outside the hall, staring up at the stars.
Footsteps approached — firm, familiar.
He turned.
Sheng Long stood there, hands behind his back, face closed but stormy.
For a long moment, they said nothing.
Then Xiao Lin, heart pounding, finally spoke.
"I get it, you know," he said softly. "Why you're keeping your distance."
Sheng Long tensed.
"But..." Xiao Lin looked up at him, fierce and vulnerable at once, "don't push me away when you don't even know if tomorrow will come."
A muscle in Sheng Long's jaw twitched.
He stepped closer, close enough that Xiao Lin could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"You'll regret it," Sheng Long said hoarsely.
"Maybe," Xiao Lin whispered. "Maybe not."
The tension between them crackled — a breath away from shattering.
But before either could move, Yan Shuo hurried toward them, face grim.
"Marshal, Lin — the royal court just announced a grand engagement banquet. A major political event. They want you both to attend."
Xiao Lin frowned. "For who?"
Yan Shuo hesitated, glancing at Sheng Long.
"For the Princess An Li," he said. "To celebrate her betrothal."
"To whom?" Sheng Long asked sharply.
Yan Shuo looked troubled.
"They didn't say."
The air turned colder.
Something dangerous was brewing beneath the surface — and they were running out of time.