Chapter 50
Morning light drifted softly through the paper window, warm and muted.
Mingxi moved slowly, feeling warmth against him before memory caught up.
Poppy… still curled in his arms, hair mussed, face soft and peaceful for the first time since he’d met her.
He barely breathed, afraid to wake her. Unfortunately, Minghua had no such hesitation.
The door slid open.
“Oh! Dà gē, Poppy… Are you—”
Mingxi’s eyes snapped open.
Minghua froze. Stared, and then she grinned wide enough to cause structural damage.
“I knew it!” she whisper-yelled.
Mingxi nearly died. “Minghua,” he hissed.
Poppy stirred, blinking awake groggily, warm, safe, and confused.
“Mingxi?”
Then she realized where she was and who she was on. Her face went crimson.
Minghua squealed. Xu Yunlian appeared behind her daughter, mid-scolding—
“Minghua, do not barge in on…”
She stopped when she saw them, covered her mouth with her hand, and smiled. Softly. Knowingly. Warmly.
Mingxi wished the floor would open and swallow him whole.
Poppy buried her face in his chest.
Xu Yunlian gently guided Minghua away.
“Come, darling,” she murmured. “Let them compose themselves.”
As the door slid shut, Minghua’s delighted whisper traveled through the hall, “They were cuddling!”
Mingxi exhaled the slow, dignified breath of a man who had lost all dignity.
Poppy whispered into his shirt. “Please kill me.”
He hesitated. Then, very softly, he laughed.
Poppy blushed, and Mingxi suspected she would have preferred to vanish entirely. Mingxi had insisted she take a few moments to wash her face and breathe, and he respectfully waited outside her room while she pulled herself together.
When they finally walked toward the dining hall, Mingxi was composed. Poppy… somewhat less so.
Voices drifted from the room ahead:
Minghua: “Then I opened the door, and they were wrapped around each other like two dumplings in one steamer—”
Mingxi stopped walking. So did Poppy.
The universe seemed to grind to a halt with them.
Mingjun added calmly, “Ah, the romance begins.”
Mingxi clenched his jaw so hard he heard it crack.
He heard Xu Yunlian’s voice, warm but firm. “Minghua, darling, people who suffer nightmares often seek comfort. It is not something to gossip about.”
Minghua: “But they looked cute—”
Mingxi strode into the dining hall. Deadly quiet. Deadly calm. The entire Shen family froze mid-breakfast. Xu Yunlian smiled at Poppy with pure welcome, sliding a bowl of congee toward the empty seat beside hers.
“Good morning, child.”
Poppy bowed faintly, still mortified.
Mingzhao gave her a deep, respectful nod. “We are honored to have you at our table.”
Mingjun smothered a grin behind his teacup.
Minghua waved frantically. “Poppy! Sit next to me! No, sit next to Mingxi! Actually, sit between us so we can—”
“Minghua,” Xu Yunlian said sharply.
Poppy slipped quietly into the seat beside Mingxi out of sheer survival.
Minghua whispered loudly to her brother, “You could have told us you were bringing her breakfast last night.”
“I didn’t,” Mingxi said flatly.
“So what you did was even more romantic?”
Poppy made an audible dying-seal noise.
Xu Yunlian smoothly rescued her. “You must be hungry. Eat, dear.”
Mingxi watched as Poppy forced a spoonful down, cheeks still glowing. Then—unexpectedly—Mingzhao addressed her.
“You handled the Council with exceptional composure,” he said. “Many adults falter under such pressure.”
Poppy blinked. “I… thank you, my lord.”
Minghua leaned over and whispered, “He means he’s impressed.”
Mingzhao added, “You are welcome in our home as long as you need. You are not a burden.”
“Thank you,” Poppy whispered.
Mingxi’s hand twitched beside hers on the table, wanting to reach for her, not daring to. But he noticed that Xu Yunlian saw when she smiled softly.
They barely finished their rice cakes when a council attendant arrived with a bow.
“Shen Gongzi. Lady Penelope. The elders request your presence in the ritual chamber.”
Poppy stiffened.
Xu Yunlian immediately reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Do not be afraid,” she said softly. “You will not face them alone.”
Mingxi rose before anyone else could stand. “I will accompany her.”
Mingjun murmured, “Of course you will,” earning a swift elbow from Minghua.
Minghua leaned close and whispered to Poppy as she stood, “Don’t let them intimidate you; you’re stronger than any of them.”
Mingxi overheard and quickly admonished her. “Minghua.”
“I’m helping!”
They stepped out into the hall. The Shrine was quieter, more somber—foxfire dimmer, air heavier. Mingxi walked half a step behind Poppy, guarding her back.
“Remember…” he said quietly. “They seek truth, not guilt.”
Poppy’s hands twisted together. “What if… what if learning more proves I could have saved her?”
Mingxi stopped walking and turned to face her.
“You could not have,” he said firmly. “I would tell you if you were at fault. I would not spare you a truth that mattered.”
Her breath hitched.
“But Poppy…” He stepped closer. “Sometimes we grieve by inventing ways we could have changed the past. It is a kind of self-punishment.”
Her eyes welled, and he lowered his voice. “You do not deserve punishment.”
A tear slid down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb before it fell. Then a shrine attendant cleared her throat sharply from down the hall. Mingxi stepped back instantly, jaw tightening.
“Let’s go,” he said, regaining his composure.
But the softness lingered between them like a held breath.