The woman that men called Cangse Sanren, a title she accepted out of lack of anything better to use, had any number of suitors, but her favorite one was one that never formally approached her to state his suit – neither the one who scolded her because she broke all the rules, nor the one who idealized her for it, but the one who made her laugh about it. His name was Wei Changze. He wasn't quite the same as all the others in another way, too.

“- and in one generation, they were all women, every single one of them!” “That seems remarkably unlikely,” Wen Ruohan remarked, and looked sidelong at Lan Qiren. “Don’t you think, Sect Leader Lan?” Lan Qiren had no idea the trouble his answer was about to cause.

“My lady,” the midwife said. “Congratulations. You have a daughter.” Madame Jin shook her head. “I need a son,” she said. “My lady –” “I’m not doing that again,” Madame Jin said, her voice getting stronger. “I need a son.” “But –” She looked at her loyal maid, who inclined her head. A knife flashed. “Congratulations, my lady,” her maid said, pushing aside the midwife’s body with her foot. “You have a son.” Madame Jin smiled.