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 ge 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 ge 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.
“Fùqin(??).Muqin(??).” Then he turned toward Mingxi with a grin far too knowing to be friendly and drawled, “Dà ge. “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.
