Lin Fan couldn't get Lan Yinyin out of his head.
"She looked at me…" he muttered, grinning stupidly to himself as he wandered into the royal gardens like a lovesick puppy:
"That means something, right? Right?"
He glanced around and spotted Lan Yinyin sitting gracefully beneath a parasol, sipping tea like a living portrait.
The gentle sway of her hair in the breeze, the glimmer of her jewelry—Lin Fan felt his knees buckle.
He straightened up quickly, smacked his own cheeks, and marched toward her.
"Princess! Or Lady? Or Highness? Wait—wait—hold on, let me start over—"
She looked up, expression unreadable, and calmly said, "...You again?"
Lin Fan nodded:
"Yes! I thought maybe we got off on the wrong foot. So I brought you this!"
He held up a single daisy. Not a spirit herb. Not even a rare flower. Just a daisy. Slightly wilted.
Lan Yinyin stared at it, then looked up at him.
"That's… from the flower beds near the latrine, isn't it?"
Lin Fan froze. "Uh…"
