“No breaks,” she murmured. “Just a nasty hit. It needs to be wrapped and a cold compress if you have it.”
One of the older boys stuttered, “Th-the healers… we should get a healer.”
“They’re coming,” Mingxi said behind her, already signaling a guard. “She is keeping him calm.”
Poppy barely heard him. She tore a strip from her own handkerchief, folding it with efficient ease.
“Are you dizzy?” she asked the kit. “Can you wiggle your fingers for me?”
He tried—winced—but managed.
“Good,” she said, smiling gently. “That’s very good. Deep breath for me. There. You’re safe.”
His trembling eased. Even Mingxi seemed surprised by how softly, instinctively she soothed him—no magic, no power. Just presence. The two older teens bowed their heads, guilt stricken.
“I’m sorry, Poppy-jie,” one stammered. “We were careless.”
“It was an accident,” she said firmly, glancing up. “And you’re staying calm, which helps him. That matters.”
Footsteps approached, the healers arriving at last. One knelt beside her, eyes widening at the steady way she held the kit’s arm.
“You did well,” the healer murmured. “He is calmer than most children we see.”
Poppy flushed. “I just didn’t want him to panic.”
The healer took over, applying salve and a proper bandage.
The kit sniffled once and then looked at Poppy with wide, shimmering eyes.
“Xiè—xièxiè,” he whispered.
Poppy’s heart squeezed. “Bù kèqì,” she said softly.
Mingxi’s breath caught almost imperceptibly behind her. When she stood, he stepped close—not touching, but near enough she felt the warmth of him at her back.
“You were remarkable,” he said quietly, voice threaded with something warmer than pride. “You steadied him before even the healer arrived.”
Poppy shook her head. “I just… helped.”
Mingxi gave her a look that said he disagreed profoundly.
Across the courtyard, Xu Yunlian watched the scene with quiet approval, one hand resting over her heart.
Minghua, arriving late with a basket of candied plums, froze in place, stared at Poppy tending the fox kit, and then whispered, “Oh. She really belongs here.”
When Poppy turned, still wiping salve from her fingers, Mingxi met her gaze.
“We will walk you back,” he said gently, offering his hand.
For once, she didn’t hesitate.
The day ended with the soft glow of lanterns, the quiet murmur of the clan settling for the evening, and Mingxi wondering—not for the first time—how a woman who had been treated as unwanted her entire life could carry such instinctive kindness in her hands.
And how the clan had ever felt complete before she came.
Chapter 42
The next morning arrived soft and silver, the mist still clinging to the stones outside Poppy’s pavilion. She woke with a strange, quiet steadiness—like the world here breathed differently, slower, more gently.
