Chapter 11: “Not Something So Pressuring…”

You Fuzhou wasn’t skilled in matters of romance, but he wasn’t an idiot.

He knew exactly what agreeing to those words would imply.

“…”

So You Fuzhou fell silent for a moment.

Yu Yan pulled back from his embrace and simply gazed at him.

Yet in the darkness, You Fuzhou could see the expression on Yu Yan’s face even more clearly.

Pleading, fear, and a trace of anticipation.

It was like a drowning man clutching the last straw, hoping it might keep him afloat and drag him to safety.

This wasn’t love or admiration.

You Fuzhou realized that for a Guide like Yu Yan, what he truly sought wasn’t affection or romance, but the original, literal meaning of “guardian”—the term used when Sentinel-Guide bonds were first established.

Over time, that word had evolved. As society progressed and attitudes grew more open, people stopped caring about the intimate, often sexual acts between Sentinels and Guides needed for deep mental guidance.

In the beginning, a guardian was simply a protector. It meant the Guide had a Sentinel watching over them—a purely mutual, beneficial arrangement, nothing more.

These days, though, it implied exclusivity and binding. It also came with the default assumption of a physical relationship.

And Yu Yan was willing to pay that price for the protection.

You Fuzhou didn’t respond right away, and fresh tears began welling in Yu Yan’s eyes. “I know I’m not worthy…”

A headache throbbed in You Fuzhou’s temples. Frowning, he cut him off. “Yu Yan, there’s no such thing as worthy or unworthy.”

He met Yu Yan’s gaze, then lifted a hand to wipe away the tears once more. Drawing a deep breath, he asked, “Do you understand what that would mean?”

“I do.”

Yu Yan’s eyes shimmered like wine fermenting under the night sky, laced with an intoxicating haze. “Laili and the others explained it to me. It would mean everyone knows I’m yours…”

He trailed off at just the right moment, leaving the rest unsaid as he stared at You Fuzhou.

But his eyes and posture said it all.

He wanted to be “You Fuzhou’s Guide.”

You Fuzhou couldn’t shake the feeling that Yu Yan understood perfectly—yet somehow didn’t at all.

He had no idea what to say or how to handle this. All he knew were textbooks, hand-to-hand combat, and warfare. These emotional tangles? Not covered.

You Fuzhou decided he needed a teacher of his own.

“Can I not?” Yu Yan asked softly.

You Fuzhou hesitated, pushing down his discomfort. “I think… it should be mutual. We should like each other…”

“You don’t like me?”

It was a tricky question.

Saying no would sound like outright dislike. Saying yes felt premature.

So You Fuzhou chose his words carefully, his ears turning red. “I don’t dislike you.”

He paused. “I’ve said it before… I don’t dislike you.”

“But you won’t be my Sentinel.”

Yu Yan’s tears had soaked into the lines of You Fuzhou’s palm, growing scalding hot.

Before You Fuzhou could reply, Yu Yan whispered through sobs, “…I didn’t think this through. Just forget I said anything. If I tell people you’re my Sentinel, it’ll mess up how you get along with other Guides. And if you find one you like someday… I’ll just be in the way.”

You Fuzhou’s immediate response sprang to mind. “I haven’t thought about…”

But he cut himself off midsentence.

He’d always believed that a person’s first instinct never lied. So he went quiet.

Yu Yan blinked but didn’t press him on what exactly he hadn’t considered. Instead, he seized the opening. His tears slowed, and his eyes lit up as he asked, “You haven’t thought about being with anyone else, right?”

“…”

You Fuzhou felt neatly sliced open, his skin peeled back to expose what lay beneath.

Feeling awkward and flushed, he tried to pull his hand away, needing some distance. They were far beyond polite conversational bounds now.

But the instant he did, Yu Yan snatched it back, gripping tight as if terrified he’d flee. “I won’t ask anymore.”

His voice trembled with nerves, words tumbling out faster. “The only reason I asked if we could say publicly that you’re my Sentinel is because you promised to protect me forever… What if you find a Guide you like later? I wouldn’t know how to go on.”

He had a point.

But…

You Fuzhou blurted, “Do you think I’m that kind of guy?”

Yu Yan shook his head at once. “That’s why I need to know if you are…”

A hint of anxiety crept in. “Or is it just… responsibility?”

You Fuzhou had no clue how to answer that one.

Yet Yu Yan smiled through his tears at the silence, his lips curving faintly. His next words twisted like a knife in You Fuzhou’s chest. “Even if it’s responsibility, that’s okay. I know how seriously you take your duties. If I’m yours that way, at least I can rest easy.”

You Fuzhou mulled it over, then said, “It’s not something so pressuring.”

He let out a slow breath and gritted his teeth. “If it’s just the original guardian relationship between a Sentinel and Guide… then yes, that’s fine.”

Yu Yan hadn’t dared hope for such a victory. He’d been ready to quit while he was ahead.

His lashes fluttered as he feigned a stunned gaze at You Fuzhou.

Caught in that look, You Fuzhou flushed hotter, like he was burning alive. “If that’s what you want.”

“…Of course it is.”

Yu Yan’s grip on his hand never loosened. In a soft voice, he murmured, “If you’re my guardian, I won’t have to be afraid of anything.”

He’d dangled one bait—and now reeled out another, holding it to You Fuzhou’s lips. “What about hugs?”

Before You Fuzhou could respond, Yu Yan pressed on. “That was the first time anyone held me so warmly. I…”

Master manipulators knew to say just enough, pause at the perfect moment, then flash a flicker of panic, as if they’d overstepped.

Anyone who cared would take the hook.

Pain stabbed You Fuzhou’s heart. Forgetting his own awkwardness, he pulled Yu Yan into his arms once more.

Yu Yan’s lips curved silently in satisfaction. He melted against You Fuzhou like a delicate bird seeking shelter, nestling close with his head on his shoulder. A few well-timed tears dampened the fabric there.

You Fuzhou’s heightened senses picked up every detail, of course.

Awkwardly, he patted Yu Yan’s broad, solid back. There was nothing amiss about a Guide this large sobbing like a wilting flower in his embrace.

After all, the suffering Yu Yan had endured was utterly real.