They moved to the center of the courtyard, where the stone path warmed under the rising sun. A fox kit darted toward them, tripped, rolled, and smacked directly into Poppy’s ankle.
Poppy gasped. “Is he… Did I…?”
“Helovesyou,” Minghua announced. “Lesson two. Kits show affection by collision.”
The tiny fox squeaked and head-butted Poppy again.
“Oh,” Poppy whispered, kneeling. “May I…?”
“Pet him! He’ll be offended if you don’t.”
Poppy reached out and gently stroked behind his ear. The fox melted into a warm, fuzzy puddle beneath her hand. Something in her chest loosened—slow, warm, almost painful in its sweetness.
Minghua clapped. “See? You’re perfect at this!”
She whisked Poppy to a stone bench beneath a juniper tree. Two cups waited there already.
“Lesson three! Tea.” Minghua pointed to the cups with solemn reverence. “If someone pours jasmine, you accept. If they pour chrysanthemum, be careful—they’re annoyed at you.”
Poppy blinked. “And lotus?”
“Oh.” Minghua’s smile softened, her voice dropping as though sharing a secret. “Lotus means they see you. Truly see you.”
Poppy looked down at the delicate cup, her throat tightening. “I… don’t think anyone has ever done that.”
“You have us to do that for you now,” Minghua said simply, squeezing her hand.
A warm breeze rustled the leaves overhead.
“Poppy.” Mingxi’s voice came from the archway.
Calm. Even. Yet the sound of it fluttered low in Poppy’s stomach. He stepped into the courtyard with that unhurried elegance he always carried, hands clasped behind his back.
Minghua puffed up proudly. “She’s learningsofast, Dà ge.”
Poppy felt heat rise in her cheeks. “She’s very patient.”
Mingxi’s gaze shifted, softening almost imperceptibly. “She always is.”
Minghua gasped. “Did you just compliment me?”
“No.”
“You did!”
“No.”
“You absolutely did.”
“Minghua.”
She cackled and scampered away, leaving Poppy with Mingxi beneath the juniper’s shade.
Mingxi sat beside her, folding the sleeves of his robe.
“May I?” he asked, motioning to the parchment she held.
“Yes,” Poppy breathed.
