Mingjun grinned. “She’s good for you.”
Mingxi stiffened. “This has nothing to do with me.”
“Mm-hm. And I suppose your aura isn’t doing that little sparky thing every time she smiles?”
“My aura does notspark.”
“Oh, it definitely does.”
Mingxi glared at him.
Mingjun only raised a brow. “Better fix your face before someone else notices.”
But Mingxi didn’t move. He watched Poppy accept a jar from Shuyan with shy pride. Watched her tuck a fox kit closer so it wouldn’t fall off her lap. Watched her look up at the gingko tree as if storing every shade of gold in her heart.
She looked…
He clenched his jaw. She looked like she belonged. Something in his chest stuttered, unsteady and unstoppable.
He watched as Poppy thanked the healers for their patience and bowed before stepping out of the grove, the afternoon light warm on her cheeks. She still smelled faintly of moonmint and foxfire salve. Kits followed her for a few steps before scampering away.
Mingxi was waiting in the walkway just outside the healing pavilion longer than he wanted Poppy to know.
“How did it go?” he asked, voice gentle.
She held up her fingers, still stained silver-green from the herbs. “I didn’t explode anything.”
His lips twitched. “A success.”
A breeze rustled through the gingko leaves. Poppy glanced around the sunlit courtyard, still unsure of what to do with the quiet that had settled in her chest.
Mingxi seemed to sense it.
“Would you like a walk?” he asked softly. “Somewhere quieter?”
Poppy nodded. “Yes. Please.”
He led her along a path that wound through flowering trees and moss-soft stone. The foxfire lanterns thinned out as the forest grew thicker,the air cooling with each turn. Birds chattered overhead, and small foxes flickered in and out of view.
Poppy kept close enough to match his pace, but not so close as to brush his arm. Even so, his warmth reached her like a steady heartbeat. She didn’t realize where he was taking her until the trees parted.
A waterfall spilled down a massive stone cliff, its waters glowing faintly blue in the afternoon sun. Mist hung in the air like scattered stars. A pool gathered at the base, so clear she could see pale koi drifting beneath the surface.
Poppy gasped softly. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is quiet,” Mingxi said. “I thought you might prefer that today.”
She stepped closer to the water’s edge, letting mist kiss her cheeks. The sound of falling water drowned out everything else—the ache in her chest, the worry looming behind her thoughts, the memory of Lysandra’s ruined face. For the first time that day, she let her shoulders drop.
“You bring everyone here?” she asked lightly.
“No.”
He said it too quickly. Too honestly.
She turned toward him. He stood half in shadow, watching her with an expression she had never seen on him before—something soft, something reverent, something unguarded.
“This place…” he said carefully, “was where my mother used to sit. She said the waterfall sounded like truth washing the world clean.”
