The Prime Minister is Pregnant with Dragon's Seed - Chapter 1

In the 19th year of Tianyuan, the Northern Di invaded southward, capturing cities and seizing land, reaching the banks of the Yangbo River, facing off against the Great Wei army across the river. War was on the verge of breaking out.

The capital was in peril!

Ever since the famed father and son of the Jiang family—who once struck terror into the hearts of the Northern Di—perished on the battlefield with no remains left behind, Great Wei had no general capable of holding back the enemy’s invasion. The enemy was arrogant and overbearing, and the morale of Great Wei’s troops was low. Many ministers requested Emperor Tianyuan to lead the army in person, to boost morale of the troops and display national might.

The emperor hesitated for a long time. In the end, he pushed the eighteen year old crown prince—Chu Huaiyin—onto the battlefield.

No one could have imagined that the crown prince, who had never stepped foot on a battlefield, would be so unstoppable. In just two years, he forced the Northern Di back to their borders, then held the north for another three, beating the enemy into submission. By year’s end, the Northern Di paid tribute and bowed in allegiance.

Within five years, the name Chu Huaiyin became synonymous with “war god” across the court and the common folk. Countless tales were told—some describing him as a bl00d-drenched killer, others painting him as a handsome divine hero with peerless martial arts—something for everyone.

On Chang’an Street, Meng Zhou sat at a small street stall, a meat bun in one hand and soy milk in the other. His cheeks were slightly puffed as he ate, lips shiny with oil. His skin was fair and flawless, even whiter and softer than the buns made by famed chef Wang Fugui. His pupils glistening like black grapes washed by water, and his long eyelashes tilted downward. As the people around him passionately discussed the wise and mighty crown prince, he alone remained quiet—like a soft-glowing white pearl dropped in the bustling marketplace.

“He must be a star descended from heaven!” an old man exclaimed excitedly, wishing he had been born fifty years later so he could follow the crown prince into battle to kill the enemy.

Meng Zhou lowered his eyelids. Chu Huaiyin still held military command and had repeatedly ignored imperial summons. Emperor Tianyuan had long been unable to sleep or eat. Just last month, under the pretense of the late empress appearing in his dream to express longing for her son, the emperor issued a special decree ordering Chu Huaiyin’s return to the capital to perform ancestral rites.

Meng Zhou thought that Chu Huaiyin would still ignore the imperial decree this time—but ten days ago, the crown prince returned triumphantly with his army. Along the way, people lined the roads to welcome him. The emperor himself came out of the palace to greet him in person.

Meng Zhou touched his face, and found that it was swollen with bun.

The political situation in the capital was turbulent. Over the past five years, the second prince had been making frequent moves. With the support of the current empress, he had gathered significant backing among the court officials. They repeatedly fed the emperor the idea that “the eldest prince has the power to protect the country, but lacks the etiquette to govern it.” The so-called “lack of etiquette” specifically referred to Chu Huaiyin’s refusal to obey Emperor’s orders.

There were also centrists—like Meng Zhou’s hypocritical father, Left Prime Minister Meng Fushan.

Though Chu Huaiyin had returned, he had not handed over military power. The emperor was old and frail—no monarch wanted to end poorly. As long as Chu Huaiyin didn’t stage a coup, the emperor would likely turn a blind eye.

Meng Zhou downed half a bowl of soy milk in one gulp, his lips stained with a ring of white foam.

Suddenly, the sound of celebratory music and firecrackers approached. Two columns of tall horses trotted, hooves pounding, red firecracker scraps fluttering in the air and landing shakily in his soy milk.

Meng Zhou frowned, turned his head in mild annoyance, and caught a gust of wind that lifted the side curtain of a bridal sedan draped in red silk. A fragrance wafted out.

He was sitting nearby and caught a glimpse of the bride’s delicate white fingers clutching the red veil. She didn’t look like a young lady with usual nervous shyness on her wedding day, but rather… like she was going to do something? Meng Zhou’s lips curled ever so slightly—barely noticeable. That expression—he knew it all too well.

Today was the wedding day of the Right Prime Minister’s son, who was marrying the legitimate daughter of the Vice Minister of War. But who in the capital didn’t know that the groom, Wang Junyang, was violent and reckless—a good-for-nothing indulging in wine, women, and gambling? Though, this is the norm for the dandies in the capital Wang Junyang wasn’t even the worst.

Meng Zhou’s eyes gleamed slyly. These days, few second-generation officials who are as dedicated to their careers as he was.

He rubbed his stomach and glanced regretfully at his unfinished soy milk. “Boss, the check please.”

Leisurely strolling past two restaurants and turning into a secluded alley, he continued walking until he reached the rear courtyard of Wang Youxiang’s estate. From afar, there were ornate pavilions, waterside pavilion, winding corridors, and at the very back—a two-story building connected to the wall.

In Great Wei, wedding customs dictated that the ceremonial rites (worshipping in the hall) and the bride entering the bridal chamber occurred at different times. After the ceremony, the bride rested in the rear courtyard before proceeding to the bridal chamber at the appointed hour.

Meng Zhou watched with interest as the window of the small building opened. A bamboo ladder was propped up, and a man in a green robe held it steady, anxiously watching the window. After a brief rustling, the bride stripped off her elaborate wedding gown, removed her heavy makeup, donned a plain white robe, and quickly climbed down.

Fast and daring.

The two embraced briefly, then toppled the ladder. When they looked up and saw Meng Zhou who had appeared out of nowhere, and their faces turned pale.

Meng Zhou’s eyes scanned the man’s face—it turned out to be the son of the Vice Minister of War’s rival. One of the capital’s rare young men with true ambition. He even passed the imperial exam. And now, he was going to give up his future and elope with someone.

The tall bride stepped forward, bracing herself. “Just pretend you didn’t see. I never wanted this marriage—it was my father’s forcing me.”

Meng Zhou’s eyes lowered, said coldly “You think too much. I’m just passing by.”

The young man froze, then bowed in thanks before fleeing with the bride without any delay.

Meng Zhou stood in place, gazing at the window thoughtfully. Suddenly, he leapt lightly onto the high wall, gripped the window frame, and with an agile motion like a swallow, disappeared behind the window.

The window shut with a click. Nothing seemed out of place. Within the time it takes to burn an incense stick, the bride had been replaced.

Golden hairpins askew, the phoenix crown and red robes tossed carelessly onto the divan. The bride had left in quite a hurry. Meng Zhou grumbled as he tidied the mess.

When he stepped out from behind the screen, he had already changed into the bright red wedding gown. The hem embroidered with  golden flowers swept the floor. He wore a palm-wide waist belt with a white jade buckle in the middle that closed perfectly.

Red lips, white teeth, charming eyes and alluring brows.

He ripped open the quilt, pulled two balls of cotton and stuffed them into his chest, then stood before the dressing table, swept all the gold accessories into a drawer. He simply loosely tied up his long hair, covered his head with the bridal veil, and calculated the time in his mind.

Meng Qi offended Wang Junyang some time ago and thus hadn’t been invited to the wedding. He had to sneak in.

It wasn’t just the Wang family. Since taking office asChief Reviewer¹ of Dali Temple², Meng Zhou had offended many people. However, he could handle bureaucratic relationships magically, and every time he does something, he hits the target accurately, giving others the illusion that: Oh, it won’t affect me—no need to worry.

That was because his previous targets had all been small fry. This time, he offended a high ranking minister, the Right Prime Minister of the dynasty. If he didn’t get away from this, he would probably… have a miserable old age.

Three days ago, a victim came to Dali Temple, accusing Wang Junyang of bullying and abducting her already-engaged daughter, Ajuan. She appealed to a higher level without any evidence the case wasn’t accepted.

The victim had nowhere to turn to after being passed around by various government offices. She met a Dali Temple official who was willing to listen to her. Regardless of whether he was only a fifth-rank official, she kowtowed to him with tears in her eyes, saying that her youngest daughter had a strong personality and that he would rescue her even at the risk of her life. Meng Zhou didn’t promise anything. The victim rolled her eyes and fainted at the gate of the Dali Temple. 

He paid someone to take her home. His colleagues laughed: “What is this? Oh, the Prime Minister’s son is in trouble, don’t we still have to pay attention to rank when handling cases, no? Young Master Meng really wasted his money again.”

They loved to sarcastically refer to him as “the Prime Minister’s son.” openly or secretly. Meng Zhou just laughed it off and didn’t bother to take it seriously.

He never made promises without full certainty. First, he had to sneak into the Wang estate—verify the woman’s story, see if the girl was really there, alive or dead.

If only he had a like-mindedthigh to hold³…

Meng Zhou sighed, popping peanuts into his mouth to pass the time. If only he had a dependable person to lean on—he wouldn’t have to go to roundabout ways to handle cases. Truly frustrating.

Wang Junyang, being favored, lived closest to his father’s study. Today, with all the chaos of his wedding, it was the perfect opportunity to fish in troubled water.

But Meng Zhou had overlooked one fact: if he could think of this meant that there were many people who had the same plan as him.

After finishing the peanuts, he felt a bit thirsty. He looked around and found that there was no tea.

He started to miss that half bowl of soy milk.

Time passed and the day grew darker. Two maids came to escort him to Wang Junyang’s quarters.

After sitting for so long, Meng Zhou stood and stretched his muscles. When Wang Junyang came in, he planned to knock him out with one strike—then it’d be his time to act.

As for why he stayed disguised as the bride for so long—Meng Zhou would never admit it was to buy time for those eloped couple.

He didn’t condone eloping, really.

“Second Young Master.”

“You all step back.” It was Wang Junyang.

Meng Zhou straightened the bridal veil, ears perking up. Footsteps shuffled away, faded, then returned.

What could be more important than the wedding night? Could it be he went to see Ajuan? If so, the Ajuan should not be far from here.

With a  creaky sound the door opened. At the same moment, bright fires outside, and guards shouted “Thief!” Footsteps thundered like drums.

“Damn it!” Wang Junyang cursed. He was drunk and his tone was very unpleasant.

Meng Zhou’s heart sank. He secretly prayed that the thief wouldn’t be so foolish to barge in here.

The red candle flame flickered. A gust of wind blew in. A grunt, a body dropped, rolling across the floor. The door slammed shut.

A lecher or an assassin?!

Meng Zhou pulled off the veil. Whoever it is he doesn’t care. There’s no bride anyway. Let him see who dares—

Their eyes met. Both froze.

Chu Huaiyin, having secured crucial evidence from the Right Prime Minister’s study, had triggered a trap and was being pursued by guards. In desperation, he slipped into a random room. He didn’t expect it to be the young master Wang’s wedding chamber.

He knocked the groom unconscious to prevent him from making any noise, and then kicked him into the dark…

When he looked up, the bride was surprisingly calm.

Chu Huaiyin’s eyes quickly swept from Meng Zhou’s protruding Adam’s apple to his collarbone, and then to his androgynous face. His mind wavered between male and female, and he decided that it was a male.

He frowned slightly. The Vice Minister of War’s daughter… was a girl, right?

Was this a trap laid by the Wang family? A flicker of killing intent flashed in Chu Huaiyin’s eyes. It was the aura of Yama honed on the battlefield, domineering and fierce, looking down on everything.

Meng Zhou realized three things instantly:

One, he couldn’t beat this man.

Two, this man had guards attracted.

Three, escaping tonight was going to be hard.

He lunged forward, clinging to the man’s thigh: “Hero! Please don’t kill by mistake!”

Meng Qi’s mind was working quickly. What if he couldn’t get out of Wang’s house today? He fixed his eyes on the man in front of him and condemned him fiercely – he ruined his business, if he wanted to run away, at least take him away too!!!

Guards followed the sound toward the courtyard. Chu Huaiyin tugged at his leg, but couldn’t shake him off. Their eyes locked for a moment. The guards were at the door. Chu Huaiyin suddenly approached, and with one hand, he threw Meng Qi onto the bed, and with one hand he pulled over the wedding blanket to cover the two of them.

Meng Zhou stumbled, stepped on his trailing hem, and fell. His hair spilled down, his red robe askew. His pale white collarbone exposed wide.

The blend of red, white, and black dazzled the eye and tempted the soul. Chu Huaiyin was stunned, his big hand still gripping the other person’s waist—a warm, and soft sensation, making his palm burn.

Meng Zhou rolled his eyes. You started this, don’t blame me for finishing it. Without hesitation, he undid his top, wrapped his arms around Chu Huaiyin’s neck, and firmly shoved the man’s face down completely burying his face. The entire sequence was smooth and fluid—giving the other party no room to resist.

It was the first time Chu Huaiyin had ever been forcibly pressed down like that. A vein throbbed on his forehead, but before he could react—the door opened with a bang.

“Ahh… it hurts—”

A sweet and soft moan cut through the chaos.

In the flickering torchlight, in that split second—

The guards who had stormed in froze, completely stunned by the scene.

What they saw…

The young mistress’ upper robe was disheveled, loosely covering her chest; the young master was buried face-first against her chest, face obscured… doing—doing what, exactly?

A few of the younger, more hot-blooded guards immediately had nosebleeds, unable to move.

Even Chu Huaiyin, who had clawed his way out of mountains of corpses and seas of bl00d, was utterly dumbfounded—he almost thought there was a third person hiding in the bed. He could clearly feel the chest pressed against the side of his face trembling slightly.