Chapter 34
A soft knock sounded. Mingxi tensed as he walked towards the door. Then a familiar warmth brushed his senses, bright and unmistakable, and his posture eased.
“It’s my sister, Minghua.”
He slid the door open, and a whirlwind of energy stepped inside.
Shen Minghua nearly tripped over her own robe in her eagerness, cheeks flushed, braid swinging, arms overflowing with silk garments.
“Dà gē!” she burst out, beaming at her brother before turning to Poppy with wide, sparkling eyes. “Oh! You’re awake! Mother sent these… oh, spirits, I love your hair. It’s so pretty—”
“Minghua,” Mingxi warned gently. “Breathe.”
She sucked in an exaggerated gulp of air, and then she bowed so quickly Mingxi thought she might topple over.
“Lady Penelope, Mother prepared these robes for you, and I—”
“Please call me Poppy,” Poppy interrupted, charmed despite herself.
Minghua gasped. Not a small gasp, but a full, I-just-won-a-new-sister gasp.
“Really?” Minghua’s entire face lit up like sunrise. “Poppy? I can call you Poppy? That’s so much nicer—you look like a Poppy—soft and pretty and warm and—”
“Minghua,” Mingxi tried again.
“I’m going,” she said, but she was already moving, sweeping Poppy’s blankets aside to make space for the robes. “I brought three options! Mother said pale colors are soothing, but I think the silver-thread robe will make your eyes sparkle, and Dà gē will—”
“Minghua,” Mingxi said, more firmly.
She froze. “Oh. Right. Privacy!” She waved him toward the door, shooing him away as if he were interrupting. “Go, Dà gē! We’ll be quick! Bye!”
She shut the door in his face.
“Okay!” Minghua clapped her hands. “We are going to make you beautiful. Not that you aren’t already—I mean, obviously—but clan robes can look weird if tied wrong, and we can’t have that!”
Poppy blinked, overwhelmed but… oddly delighted.
Minghua guided Poppy behind the silk screen, talking the entire time.
“So, Mother never lets me help guests because I ‘rush things,’ but I won’t rush you because you’re important. And strong. And also…” She wiggled her eyebrows, which looked absolutely ridiculous on a young lady. “He likes you.”
Poppy nearly dropped the inner robe. “He… what?”
“Oh, it’s so obvious,” Minghua said, absolutely giddy. “He never sits beside anyone when they sleep! And he never looks soft! Dà gē is always soooo serious, but with you he’s all—”
Her features softened dramatically, and she clasped her hands and fluttered her eyes.
Poppy covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
“Hold still!” Minghua said, darting around like an overexcited fairy.
She adjusted the sleeves, tied the sash, spun Poppy slightly, and fussed with the fall of fabric. Then Minghua stepped back and gasped loudly.
“Oh. Oh, wow! You look like moonlight. Dà gē is going to die.”
Poppy blushed so hard she felt it in her ears.
Minghua blinked at her and then grinned. “Ohhhh, no wonder he’s so weird around you.”
Then, without hesitation, Minghua reached up and gently straightened a lock of Poppy’s hair. Purely innocent. Purely affectionate. Purely youthful rambunctiousness.
“You’re perfect,” she declared. “I’m adopting you now. This is non-negotiable.”
Minghua then slid the door open dramatically, like announcing royalty.
“Dà gē,” she said proudly, “behold.”
Mingxi turned and stopped breathing. Not dramatically. Not obviously. Just a subtle stillness that Poppy felt more than saw—like the air between them had shifted.
“You look…” His voice dipped warm, unguarded. “Well.”
Poppy flushed.
Minghua made an audible squeaking noise behind them.
“All right!” she announced. “Mother and Father are waiting! Let’s go! Dà gē, walk slower so Poppy can admire the gardens! Or hold hands! That’s fine, too!”
“Minghua,” Mingxi groaned.
“What?” she said innocently. “Everyone knows fox men fall in love fast.”
Poppy nearly tripped again.
Mingxi reached for her reflexively. Minghua covered her grin with both hands, eyes sparkling with smug delight. She walked ahead of them, braid bouncing, humming like she was incapable of containing joy in her body.
Poppy walked beside Mingxi in a soft, comfortable quiet—until curiosity pushed forward.
“Mingxi?”
He looked down, eyes warm. “Yes?”
“I heard that girl call you something. Dà gē. What… does it mean?”
Mingxi slowed a fraction and then said, “It means… eldest brother. A respectful title.”
“Oh!” Poppy blinked. “So just… brother?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “But with affection.”
Before Poppy could absorb that, Minghua spun on her heel like a fox sprite.
“It’s the best kind of affection!” she announced. “It means he’s the oldest and most responsible and that I admire him. He protects us and—”
“Minghua,” Mingxi warned.
She ignored him completely. “And it’s super special because Dà gē is the one we all look up to. He pretends he’s scary, but he isn’t scary at all; he’s soft—”
“Minghua.”
“And he takes care of everyone, but no one takes care of him, so it’s perfect that Poppy—”
“Minghua!” Mingxi said through clenched teeth, ears turning faintly red.
Poppy tried not to laugh. “She enjoys doing this to you, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” he managed. “She never misses an opportunity.”
Minghua beamed, satisfied she had saved the moment.
“And,” she added smugly, “now you know one of our most important family words. You’re welcome!”
Poppy smiled, warm and charmed.
Mingxi inhaled slowly, deeply—like he needed patience or divine intervention—and then he glanced at Poppy, eyes softening in a way that felt nothing like familial titles.
“Dà gē,” Poppy murmured, trying the word. “It suits you.”
The way Mingxi froze—quiet, internal, visceral—told her the phrase meant more to him than she understood.
Minghua squealed. This time, Mingxi didn’t even bother correcting her.
The dining hall was serene—lacquered wood glowing under soft morning light, steam curling from bowls of porridge and sliced fruit. The atmosphere felt warm, welcoming… and intimidating all at once.
Minghua all but bounced into the room.
Poppy followed hesitantly.
Mingxi walked at her side, steady as a breath.
Two figures rose at the far end of the table.
Shen Mingzhao, Clan Patriarch, was tall with silver-streaked hair pulled back and sharp eyes that assessed everything in a single look. Power and restraint in perfect balance.
Xu Yunlian, Clan Matriarch, was graceful, serene, warm-eyed. The gentleness of spring hiding steel beneath silk.
Mingxi bowed immediately. “Fùqīn. Shīmǔ.”
Poppy scrambled to follow Minghua’s subtle cue and bowed as well.
Xu Yunlian smiled, soft and approving. “Welcome. Please join us. You are a guest of us all.”
Minghua plopped down next to Poppy so fast that Mingzhao exhaled through his nose.
“Minghua,” he said.
She froze and then corrected herself dramatically, sitting neatly… for three seconds… before sliding closer to Poppy again.
Poppy tried to hide her smile.
Mingxi took the seat beside Poppy, subtly positioning himself as her shield.
Xu Yunlian served porridge with gentle precision.
“Eat,” she urged. “Your strength needs replenishing after an awakening.”
Poppy dipped her head. “Thank you. Everyone has been very kind.”
Minghua leaned in and whispered loudly, “They like you.”
“Minghua,” Mingxi warned.
“What? They do!”
Poppy took a bite of porridge—warm, sweet, soothing.
She exhaled softly. “This is wonderful.”
“You haven’t eaten since before the ball?” Mingxi murmured.
“No,” Poppy admitted. “I… forgot.”
Before she could take another bite, Shen Mingzhao spoke. “You awakened the moonlight.” His voice cut through the quiet like a blade sliding from a sheath.
Poppy froze, the spoon halfway to her lips.
Minghua immediately reached under the table and squeezed her hand—comforting, supportive.
Mingxi sat straighter, shoulders angling subtly to place his body between Poppy and his father’s direct scrutiny. The motion was instinctive, protective, and she noticed.
Xu Yunlian gave her husband a mildly reproachful look. “Perhaps more gently, Mingzhao.”
His gaze stayed sharp, but his tone softened by a fraction.
“The Clan Council will need to speak with you today,” he continued. “Your awakening shook the leylines.”
“I-I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” Poppy whispered.
Xu Yunlian touched Poppy’s arm, warm and maternal. “You didn’t. You revealed truth.”
Minghua nodded enthusiastically. “It’s a good thing! Really! As long as you don’t explode. Dà gē carried someone out once when they fainted right in the middle of—”
“Minghua!” Mingzhao snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Sorry,” she whispered loudly. “No exploding.”
Poppy laughed despite herself. For the first time in far too long, she felt the faint, fragile weight of belonging.
When the laughter faded, Mingzhao leaned forward slightly, measured, and serious, but no longer harsh.
“Poppy,” he said, her name wrapped in authority and something almost respectful. “You are under our protection. Through this family, the clan, the Council.” His eyes flicked to Mingxi. “And through my son.”
Poppy’s breath caught.
Mingxi’s jaw tightened—protective, defiant.
Mingzhao seemed to register it, judge it, accept it. He gave a single, grave nod.
“Eat,” he instructed. “You will need strength.”
Minghua immediately shoved a bowl of fruit toward Poppy. “Here! Eat more! We can’t have you fainting in front of the elders. Dà gē would—”
“Minghua.”
“Carry you again,” she finished in a whisper, hiding her grin.
Poppy warmed all the way to her bones.
This was different. This was family. This was… safe. And when Mingxi’s hand brushed hers under the table—just barely—she knew. She wasn’t facing the world alone anymore.
The door slid open. Poppy looked up and nearly forgot to breathe.
A young man strolled in with all the unearned confidence of someone who had never been told no in his entire life.
Tall. Gracefully built. Hair as glossy as Mingxi’s but tied loosely, like he’d run a hand through it on purpose.
A faint smirk curved his lips the moment his eyes landed on the table.
Minghua groaned softly. “Oh no,” she whispered to Poppy. “Brace yourself.”
Mingjun paused at the threshold, his attention sweeping the room in one fluid motion. He bowed politely to his parents.
“Fùqīn (父亲). Mǔqīn (母亲).” Then he turned toward Mingxi with a grin far too knowing to be friendly and drawled, “Dà gē. “You didn’t tell me we had a guest.”
Poppy flushed under the directness of his gaze. It wasn’t lewd. It wasn’t even flirtatious. It was the look of someone who had put together a puzzle in half a second and was deeply entertained by it. Mingxi’s expression did not change. But his aura sharpened—just a hair.
“This is Poppy,” he said evenly. “She is under our protection.”
“Ohhhh,” Mingjun said softly, like he’d just solved everything.
He slid onto the cushion across from Poppy—not next to Mingxi, not next to Minghua, but directly across from their guest, giving himself the clearest view possible.
“Welcome,” he said, voice warm, polite, and very much amused. “I must say, you brought unexpected brightness to our breakfast.”
Poppy opened her mouth, unsure how to respond, and then she noticed Minghua kick Mingjun under the table.
He shot her a wounded look. “Minghua, that hurt.”
“You deserved it,” she hissed.
Xu Yunlian elegantly ignored them both. “Mingjun, behave.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Poppy could tell Minghua was absolutely not going to behave but was willing to pretend. Mingzhao gave his son a single, warning glance. The kind that could peel bark off a tree. Mingjun’s smirk softened into something more genuine. He bowed his head toward Poppy.
“Truly,” he said, sincerity threading through the teasing. “It’s rare to meet someone new in our city. I hope we haven’t overwhelmed you.”
“Oh, they did,” Poppy said before she could stop herself.
Minghua squeaked.
Mingxi froze.
Xu Yunlian hid a smile.
Mingzhao’s eyebrow rose.
Mingjun burst into delighted laughter. “I like her,” he declared. “Dà gē, you have excellent taste.”
Mingxi’s eye twitched.
Poppy wanted to sink through the floor.
Minghua punched Mingjun in the shoulder. “Stop embarrassing her!”
“Am I embarrassing her?” Mingjun asked, leaning his chin into his hand. “Or embarrassing Dà gē?”
Minghua sputtered into her porridge.
Mingjun, eyes gleaming with mischief and actual kindness beneath it, turned back to Poppy.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “They’re always like this. You’ll get used to it.”
Poppy exhaled. For a moment, she truly believed she might.
Mingxi glanced at her, the faintest softening to his expression. “You smiled,” he said quietly. Not teasing. Not expectant. Simply… noticing her.
Poppy blinked. “Did I?”
“Yes.” He turned slightly toward her, golden eyes warm in the dappled light. “It suits you.”
Her breath caught—not because it was flirtatious, but because it was sincere. Gently spoken. Undeniably true. She looked away, a small, helpless smile tugging at her mouth anyway.
“Your family is… a lot. But they’re kind.”
“They already like you,” Mingxi murmured.
She huffed a soft laugh. “Minghua is impossible not to like.”
“That’s not who I meant.”
Poppy met his eyes. Warmth pooled somewhere beneath her ribs, steady and reassuring.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, voice low.
She felt the words settle into the space behind her heart without pain. “I’m glad I am too,” she whispered.
Mingxi offered his arm. “Come. The elders are waiting.”
She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow—a small touch, a simple gesture. But the moment it happened, Mingxi went utterly still.
Not startled.
Not flustered.
Just… aware of her.
Poppy realized, with a tiny bloom of quiet joy, that she wasn’t the only one smiling.