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 ge, 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 ge?”
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.”
