The sun hung low over the forest clearing, painting the world in gold and crimson.
The evening was cool, and the air smelled of pine and wildflowers.
Xiao Lin stood barefoot in the grass, fists clenched nervously at his sides.
He could feel the shift just beneath his skin — the way his body tugged at something deeper, ancient, waiting to emerge.
"Relax," Sheng Long said, voice low but firm.
Easy for him to say.
The Marshal lounged against a boulder with his arms crossed, his black coat catching the dying light like a silhouette cut from night itself.
Yan Shuo sat on the ground nearby, absentmindedly whittling a stick into shavings.
"I... I don't know if I can," Xiao Lin confessed, glancing at them with wide, uncertain eyes.
Sheng Long's gaze was steady.
"You can. You've already half-shifted before. Focus."
Xiao Lin closed his eyes.
In his mind, he pictured the fox — the silvery white fur, the nimble paws, the tail like a shimmering ribbon of mist.
He breathed in.
Out.
The world fell away.
Something rippled through him — a pulse of energy, a shiver that made his skin tingle and bones ache.
There was a soft pop!
Followed by a sharp, startled yelp.
Yan Shuo burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped his knife.
Sheng Long let out a slow, resigned sigh.
Xiao Lin had successfully shifted... mostly.
A small silver fox with enormous ears and a very fluffy tail now sat in the grass, blinking up at them with wide, confused ruby eyes.
But his tiny paws were still half human, looking absurdly awkward.
Yan Shuo wiped tears from his eyes.
"Oh no.
It's adorable," he gasped between laughs.
"Marshal, I don't think I can take this seriously—"
Sheng Long shot him a look so cold it could have frozen magma.
He turned back to Xiao Lin, crouching so they were eye to eye.
"You're doing fine," Sheng Long said quietly, ignoring Yan Shuo's howling in the background.
Xiao Lin's little fox ears flattened against his head in embarrassment.
He tried to move — stumbled forward awkwardly — and tripped over his own oversized tail.
Sheng Long caught him before he faceplanted into the dirt, scooping the small fox into his arms.
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
Xiao Lin, dazed and flushed in his fluffy fox form.
Sheng Long, stiff and uncertain, as if unsure whether to pat him or set him down.
Eventually, Sheng Long settled for cradling him awkwardly like a very fragile, very confused loaf of bread.
"You'll get better with time," he said gruffly.
Xiao Lin gave a tiny whimper and buried his face against Sheng Long's chest, overwhelmed and exhausted.
The Marshal froze, then — very, very carefully — stroked one silvery ear between two fingers.
Soft.
Too soft.
He looked away quickly, feeling a strange heat crawl up his neck.
Yan Shuo finally composed himself enough to stand, grinning like a fool.
"Well, if this doesn't make the empire fall at your feet, nothing will," he joked.
But Sheng Long didn't smile.
He was staring at the treeline, eyes narrowing.
A sharp, foreign energy prickled at the edges of his senses — faint, almost hidden, but unmistakable.
Killing intent.
Without a word, he handed Xiao Lin to Yan Shuo and stood, hand already drifting to the sword sheathed at his hip.
"What is it?" Yan Shuo asked, immediately alert.
"Someone's watching," Sheng Long said in a low voice.
Xiao Lin, still half-fox in Yan Shuo's arms, shivered as if he too could feel the subtle threat in the air.
They waited.
The trees whispered and shifted, but nothing emerged.
Finally, Sheng Long relaxed — barely.
"If they wanted a clean shot, they missed their chance," he muttered.
Yan Shuo's face was grim now, no trace of laughter left.
"You think...?"
"I think the royal family's snakes are stirring," Sheng Long said quietly.
"And they're getting bolder."
Xiao Lin whimpered softly, pressing close to Yan Shuo for comfort.
Sheng Long's eyes darkened, his hand clenching into a fist.
He would not lose what he had just regained.
Not to traitors.
Not to assassins.
Not to anyone.
"Double the patrols," he ordered.
"And keep Xiao Lin close at all times."
Yan Shuo nodded sharply.
As Sheng Long turned to leave, Xiao Lin — in his tiny fox form — struggled free from Yan Shuo's arms and trotted after him with clumsy determination.
The sight almost made the Marshal smile.
Almost.
He scooped the little fox up again without missing a step, cradling him carefully against his chest.
"We'll keep you safe," Sheng Long murmured, so quietly only Xiao Lin could hear.
"I promise."
Above them, the stars blinked awake — cold, distant witnesses to the oaths made below.