Chapter 90
Word traveled through Huǒyáo Jìng the way foxfire traveled—fast and with absolutely no respect for subtlety. By morning, the entire realm knew. Shen Mingxi, eldest son of the Shen Clan, had proposed, and the Moonborn girl said yes.
Lanterns appeared along the walkways before Mingxi even woke up. Fox cubs practiced “wedding bowing” (incorrectly). Three aunties tried to adopt Poppy. One tried to adopt Mingxi.
And Lysandra kept yelling, “This is because of me,” while Caelan tried to drown himself in a water bucket.
Poppy barely made it five steps outside her room before Minghua grabbed her.
“We have so much to do,” the younger girl screeched. “Come on. Robes, hairpins, offerings, flowers, and… Oh, my gods, your hair—”
Poppy blinked. “I… brushed it?”
“Not enough.”
Meanwhile, Mingxi tried escaping out a side door, only for Mingjun to block him with the flat of a practice blade.
“You are being fitted,” Mingjun said. “Stand still.”
“I don’t want to be fitted,” Mingxi muttered.
“You will be fitted,” Mingjun insisted. “For the good of the realm.”
Mingxi groaned and shot Poppy a glance, rolling his eyes. She laughed.
Huǒyáo Jìng was alive with joy.
For the first time in her life, Poppy felt like she belonged to something bright.
On the night before the wedding, Poppy was escorted to Xu Yunlian’s quiet preparation hall. It smelled faintly of cedar and moonwater, illuminated by floating foxfire blossoms.
“Sit,” Yunlian said gently.
“Is this… a lot?” Poppy asked, feeling suddenly small. “For someone like me?”
Yunlian paused mid-brushstroke in Poppy’s hair. “Someone like you?” she echoed softly. “Poppy, you stood in front of evil and defied it. You saved my son’s life twice. You shielded Lysandra. You walked through cursed magic without breaking.”
She angled Poppy’s chin toward the mirror. “You are everything this realm honors.”
Poppy’s throat tightened. “I’m afraid.”
“Of the ceremony?”
“Of deserving him,” she whispered.
Yunlian’s hands softened. “You do. Because you choose him—not for power, not for safety, but for the man he is.”
She pinned silver fox-tail ornaments into Poppy’s hair: small crescent moons, tiny tails curling together.
“Tonight,” Yunlian murmured, “you sleep in the bridal hall. No seeing Mingxi until the ceremony.”
Poppy smiled faintly. “He’s probably panicking.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Yunlian said. “Your future husband is currently arguing with your sister over robe color.”
Mingxi was trying very hard not to die. He stood in the groom’s chamber while two aunties, one elder, and Lysandra circled him like vultures.
“That color washes him out.”
“No, he looks elegant, like a broody ghost.”
“Stop pinning things on me!” Mingxi hissed.
Lysandra held up an embroidered sash. “Okay, but this is the vibe.”
Mingxi stared. “That has a lot of embroidery.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“He’ll wear it,” Minghua declared, bursting in. “No one ask him!”
“I am right here,” Mingxi shouted.
Mingjun placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be over soon.”
Mingxi whispered, “I would rather fight six Yao-guài Láng.”
“You already fought one,” Mingjun noted. “And it was easier than this.”
The morning of the wedding, dawn broke gently across the valley, painting Huǒyáo Jìng in shades of gold and rose. The ancestral hall was decorated in deep red banners embroidered with silver fox tails. Lanterns hung from the beams, their flames flickering in patterns that matched the clan’s qi.
Poppy stood at the eastern gateway, the bridal veil in her hands—not over her face but folded neatly over one wrist. In the fox clan, brides were not hidden. They were honored. Revealed. Seen.
Her robe was red, deeper than wine, embroidered with curling moonlit foxes in thread so fine it shimmered. A silver ribbon cinched her waist, and foxfire hairpins glowed softly in her hair.
When she stepped into the courtyard, silence rippled through the crowd.
Mingxi—red ribbon trembling between his fingers—lost the ability to breathe when she appeared. She was everything he hadn’t let himself hope for.
Xu Yunlian officiated, robed in ceremonial white.
“Shen Mingxi,” she said. “Penelope Sinclair. You come before the ancestors and the clan to bind your paths together.”
They nodded, hands already joined.
First Bow—To Sky and Earth
They turned toward the sky. Bowed. Lanterns flickered. The air shifted—gentle, approving.
Second Bow—To the Ancestors
The ancestor tablets glowed faintly, illuminated by foxfire. They bowed again. A soft rustle of unseen tails swept the room.
Third Bow—To Each Other
Mingxi looked at her, knowing she was the only thing he’d ever chosen freely. Poppy bowed. He bowed in return, deliberately formal.
Xu Yunlian tied a thin red silk cord around their joined hands—one loop for choice, one for devotion, one for future.
Mingxi spoke first, voice low and steady, “Yueguāng… you have brought light into every dark corner of my life. I vow to walk with you, protect you, learn with you, and honor you. I vow to be your home, as you have become mine.”
Poppy sniffed, clearly on the verge of tears.
“Mingxi… you guard everyone else and forget yourself. I vow to protect you, too. I vow to love you in every storm and every silence. To be your partner, your defender, your equal—and to choose you every day that follows.”
Mingxi’s breath hitched, and something inside him broke open like a star.
“Seal your vows,” Yunlian said softly.
Mingxi didn’t hesitate. He leaned in, kissing her with reverence and wonder—soft, certain, unhurried. Foxfire flared. Lanterns brightened along the rafters. The clan erupted into cheers.
Lysandra screamed, “Finally! Take him. He’s yours now.”
Caelan shouted through a water gate, “I can’t believe I missed it. Show me again…”
Poppy laughed into Mingxi’s shoulder.
He kissed her temple and whispered, “Wife.”
She kissed him softly. “Husband.”
The fox clan’s bells rang in celebration.
After the ceremony, there was feasting. There was dancing. There was foxfire spinning in the night sky as warriors performed blessing rituals.
Children ran around Poppy shouting, “Auntie Poppy.”
Mingxi hovered behind her like a protective shadow, smiling but overwhelmed.
Lysandra choreographed a wildly inaccurate wedding parade, and Caelan nearly died trying to stop her.
Minghua stuffed food into Poppy’s hands every four minutes.
Poppy stuffed some into Mingxi’s because he forgot to eat.
The night glowed.
The clan celebrated.
The celebration blurred into warmth and foxfire.