And the girl? Hurt, hunted by fate, full of resilience she didn’t even recognize.
Xu Yunlian’s heart settled on its answer.
These two will either save each other… or tear the mountain apart trying.
She smiled softly.
Either way, she would help them.
Chapter 37
Poppy sat very still beside him, the porcelain cup warm between her palms. Her eyes remained fixed on the floor, afraid to meet whatever truth might be looking back.
“Poppy,” Mingxi said.
She looked up.
“There was much spoken today,” he said quietly. “And revealed. If anything confused you, you may ask me.”
Her lips parted. Instead of fear, she tried to show care. “Your mother is very kind,” she said softly.
Mingxi blinked once. A subtle, restrained flinch she almost missed.
“She is not my mother,” he said gently.
Poppy froze. “Oh, Mingxi, I’m so sorr—”
He lifted a hand, the motion small but steady. “No apology. Merely truth.”
Poppy swallowed, uncertain. “Then your mother,” she tried again, choosing her words with more care, “was she like Xu Yunlian? Fox clan?”
His expression softened in a way that ached.
“No,” he murmured. “She was human.” The lantern light warmed his features, brushing the grief there like fingertips tracing an old scar. “She was gentle,” he said. “Warm. She laughed easily. She trusted too quickly. And she loved fiercely.”
A breath before he continued, “She loved me.”
Poppy’s chest tightened. “What happened?”
“I lost her when I was twelve,” he said simply. “And my father did not marry Xu Yunlian until centuries later.”
Poppy’s fingers curled around her cup. “Mingxi, I didn’t know.”
“You could not have,” he said quietly. “But it is why I am as I am. Why I guard. Why I stay close. Why certain titles do not sit well on my tongue.” His gaze lowered just a fraction. “And why I do not call Xu Yunlian mother.”
Poppy nodded slowly, understanding, not just hearing. “It must have been very lonely,” she said softly.
A faint breath escaped him, not quite agreement, but not denial either. “And you? Was there anything tonight that frightened you?”
She opened her mouth—
“Are you still being sad?” Minghua yelled across the garden.
Mingxi flinched.
Poppy jolted so hard she nearly dropped her tea, wondering how this whirlwind had been able to sneak up on them.
Minghua burst through the plum trees like she’d been fired from a catapult, arms full of steamed buns, hair a windblown disaster, expression painfully earnest.
