Mingxi stepped forward, the remaining two sentries forming an escort. The path lit beneath his feet—glowing stones responding to his returning magic.
Poppy blinked up through half-lidded eyes. “Mingxi… where… where are we?”
He looked down at her, voice softening in a way he only did for her. “My home in my clan’s forest.”
She exhaled faintly as the luminous canopy shifted overhead—violet to gold to moon white.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
His arms tightened. “You belong here now,” he said quietly.
She startled slightly, but he didn’t correct himself.
Ahead, the first structures of the clan’s city—??? (Huoyáo Jìng)—emerged from between the trees: sweeping roofs curved like fox tails, lanterns of gold and sapphire dancing on the breeze, shrines carved with ancient runes, bridges arching over glowing streams, Guardian statues watching with serene and foxlike pride.
A low gong sounded from deeper in the forest—a welcoming tone reserved for returning clan nobles and for someone precious enough to be sheltered in their arms.
Mingxi lowered his head toward Poppy’s ear and murmured, “No matter what hunts you, you are safe here, qinyou.”
Her eyes fluttered shut.
He hoped she heard him and believed him.
The inner pavilion doors slid open at Mingxi’s approach, the foxfire runes responding to his signature with a soft golden flare. Two healers hurried forward—robed in pale violet, their dark hair tied back with ribbons marked by tiny fox-tail charms.
One healer drew in a sharp breath. “Shen-gongzi, she is—”
“Exhausted,” Mingxi cut in gently, “not injured.”
He stepped into the central chamber, carrying Poppy to a low platform covered in embroidered silks and a foxfire-warmed blanket. He laid her down with exquisite care, as if she were made of moonlight itself.
The elder healer pressed glowing fingertips to Poppy’s wrist. Her brows rose.
“Her pulse is steady. Deeply depleted, yes, but not harmed.”
She traced her hand above Poppy’s sternum, faint moonlight rising to meet it.
“Her magic burned too bright for a body unprepared for it. She needs sleep, not salves or tinctures.”
Mingxi exhaled softly, a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
The younger healer bowed. “We will prepare restorative wards around her.”
“No,” Mingxi said quietly.
Both healers froze.
He moved to Poppy’s side and knelt on the cushion beside the platform, fingers brushing the back of her hand.
“I will hold the ward myself.”
The younger healer glanced at him. “And you, Shen-gongzi—”
“I am fine,” Mingxi said immediately.
Yunlian’s eyes softened, but her tone didn’t waver. “No, you are not.”
He froze.
