Zhang He'an lowered his gaze. "Your Highness, please maintain decorum."
Li Qingxun clicked her tongue in amusement.
Zhang He'an was always meticulous—stoic, reserved, and unwaveringly proper in everything he did. Even the clasp on his collar was always fastened with perfect symmetry.
The more rigidly he adhered to propriety, the more Li Qingxun found him intriguing.
She was determined to pluck this unattainable flower from its lofty peak.
In the days that followed, Li Qingxun deliberately set aside her homesickness and focused entirely on teasing Zhang He'an. She often left the Autumn Cool Palace to wander the palace corridors.
Perhaps by sheer luck, she encountered him five out of ten times.
Li Qingxun would always approach him with a playful smile, greeting him with remarks like:
"Ah, Minister Zhang, you seem even more dashing today."
"Good afternoon, Minister Zhang. The red official robes suit you best."
