The Prime Minister is Pregnant with Dragon's Seed - Chapter 19

The solution Chu Huaiyin proposed for the issue of the Jiang family losing control of the training grounds was, surprisingly, to personally train troops for the Emperor Tianyuan.

After all, the military command for the capital’s defense was in the hands of people the emperor trusted. Chu Huaiyin was essentially just manual labor. The emperor knew full well the Liu family’s incompetence in leading troops, they’d returned in disgrace five years ago after a defeat, and in recent years, they’d turned the Capital Defense Command into a chaotic mess. It was the perfect opportunity for Chu Huaiyin to clean up the army’s conduct.

Lately, Meng Zhou had been heading to the Jiang estate straight after leaving Dali Temple, since Chu Huaiyin trained soldiers there during the day. Grateful for his sacrifice, Meng Zhou served tea, fetched water, and tried to get closer to him. Occasionally, he’d bring up news from Chongling Mountain. He was even more diligent than Jiang Xin.

Dressed in battle armor, Chu Huaiyin exuded a fierce, bl00d-drenched aura, as if plucked straight from a battlefield of a thousand miles, where blades clashed and horses roared. He was a god of war, invincible amidst a sea of troops. The Capital Defense Command looked like a flock of sickly chicks before him—he could knock out a dozen with a single spear.

His sweeping gaze was just like the one when they first met in Wang Junyang’s bridal chamber—cold, emotionless. That one look made Meng Zhou’s calves cramp, and with a yelp, he crouched down to rub his legs.

Chu Huaiyin tossed out a curt, “Horse stance. Half an hour.” Then casually, he flung a spear through the air—it cut through the wind, whooshed across half the training field, and landed precisely into the rack with a thunk. Right on target. It also stabbed directly into the hearts of a few soldiers who’d been thinking of slacking off.

Chu Huaiyin strode to Meng Zhou’s side and asked with concern, “Can you get up?”

Meng Zhou looked up slightly, a crease between his brows from the ache in his legs. It was his first time looking up at Chu Huaiyin from this angle, and it stunned him for a moment. The bright sky behind him cast Chu Huaiyin in a divine glow, like a deity worshiped by all beings.

Meng Zhou thought, If only you didn’t have an empire to inherit, I…

I what…?

Before he could figure it out, Chu Huaiyin mistook his silence for weakness and was aggrieved. With a distressed expression, he reached out and scooped him up. “I think you’ve lost weight.” The bit of meat he’d recently gained had visibly vanished. Clearly, nutrition couldn’t be neglected. He’d have to ask around for more of that snow-spotted fish.

The way little Meng crouched and looked up at him just now stirred something indescribable in Chu Huaiyin. But just as he tried to grasp it, it vanished without a trace.

“I can walk,” Meng Zhou said, a bit thrown off by Chu Huaiyin’s two-faced behavior. He was used to the easygoing, approachable version of him—the one he could joke with. But today, he suddenly remembered that the eldest prince, who had just returned to Capital from the battlefield to compete for the throne, was the real face that was above everything else. He found it hard to adapt.

“Didn’t you just say you couldn’t stand? You get cramps even when you walk on flat ground. How about I give you some practice too?”

Meng Zhou wasn’t having it. He kicked his leg—the one hooked in Chu Huaiyin’s arm—and boldly tapped the man’s thigh. “I’m fine now.”

Oh, there is no such thing as not adapting.

“Kicking around while in my arms—you’re the first.” Everyone else he had restrained shrinks like wet quails.

But Meng Zhou’s mind was elsewhere. Curious, he asked, “So you’ve held others before?”

Wasn’t Prince Huai’s arms supposed to be gold-plated?

Why did it sound like just anyone could be held?

“That’s not what I meant. Why am I even explaining this to you?” Chu Huaiyin realized the comparison was poorly chosen and ended the topic with finality.

Meng Zhou sensibly changed the subject. “Any news from Ji Yang lately?”

“Why do you always ask about Ji Yang?” Chu Huaiyin sounded a little bitter. Meng Zhou asked about him three times a day: where he was, whether he’d encountered ghost soldiers, when he’d make his move…

Meng Zhou was briefly speechless. Why couldn’t he ask about things he cared about?

Just then, Ji Yang, who was sneaking past Chongling Mountain with troops  planning a surprise attack, suddenly sneezed.

***

Two days ago, the Zhou patriarch arrived in the capital, bringing five full wagons of Jiangnan goods. As Meng Zhou passed the front of the carts, he happened to see a mark on a box—something that looked like a black copper coin. It was identical to the one he’d seen at the gambling den.

Now it was certain: the weapons in the capital were transported by the Zhou family.

What remained unknown was how many they’d brought over the past five years—and whether, aside from the gambling dens, there were other destinations.

Meng Zhou stood in front of the cart, deep in thought. Just then, Meng Huaihan came out and, with a flourish of her nails, opened a box to show off the silk, jewels, and finery inside.

“You want some? Are you worthy?.” Meng Huaihan sneered.

Meng Zhou glanced at her blandly and turned to leave. People like her—best ignored, or they’d just feed on the attention.

That look infuriated Meng Huaihan. After that incident, she’d been the subject of constant gossip. When had she ever been treated so contemptuously? All because of Meng Zhou. If not for him, she wouldn’t have had to marry a brothel thug! Though her grandfather had secretly promised to have the man killed before the engagement was finalized, her reputation was already in ruins.

Meng Huaihan suddenly snapped. She grabbed things from the box and began hurling them at Meng Zhou. “Bastard! Why won’t you just die! You should’ve died eighteen years ago!”

But Meng Zhou, as if he had eyes on his back, deflected her attacks with a wave of his hand—the items landed neatly at her feet.

“Eighteen years ago, the Zhou family leaked news of my grandfather’s death to my mother and even pulled away the midwife, hoping she’d die in childbirth with me. Isn’t that right?” Meng Zhou fired off the accusation like a machine gun, giving her no time to react.

Meng Huaihan’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her voice turned shrill: “You eavesdropped on me and mother talking!”

By the time she shouted, she realized something was wrong—they weren’t in the Meng estate anymore.

She turned to see people all around, whispering behind their hands. Among them was one of the capital’s most notorious gossiping ladies.

Meng Huaihan’s vision went black.

***

Chu Huaiyin, seeing Meng Zhou growing thinner by the day, suggested he go back to eating one fish a day. Meng Zhou refused, so Prince Huai shoved three thousand-year-old ginseng roots into his hands. The legendary life-extending treasures.

Meng Zhou cradled the ginseng like he was holding ten thousand taels of silver, grinning from ear to ear. He thanked Prince Huai with a smile, then turned and headed to the capital’s largest medicinal shop.

He sold one at a high price.

Seven hundred taels.

Finally, no longer penniless, Meng Zhou felt his steps grow steadier under the weight of money. Looking at the two remaining ginseng roots, he tucked one into his robe and carefully wrapped the other in red silk, then turned into a small, unassuming clinic.

This clinic belonged to Li Wenle, the son of his former wet nurse. Their family had helped him and Jiang Yao greatly, and Meng Zhou had never properly thanked them. From the way the herbal shop owner had adored the ginseng, he figured any doctor would value it.

Li Wenle was a decent doctor—reasonable fees, good looks, and a kind demeanor. He had an excellent reputation among the common folk.

When Meng Zhou entered, Li Wenle paused mid-prescription. “Brother Meng, are you feeling unwell?”

Meng Zhou waved his hands. “I’m fine. I came to give you something.”

He placed the ginseng on the counter.

Li Wenle was stunned. “This is far too valuable. You were born early—you need to nourish your body. This is most useful for you.”

“I’ve got more. Value depends on whether the owner recognizes it. Brother Li is knowledgeable and will definitely be able to make better use of it.” Meng Zhou yawned. To him, these roots were worth 700 taels apiece—700 times 3, that’s 2100 taels. All silver, shining bright.

“You saved my life. A debt heavier than a mountain. If you don’t accept this, I won’t visit you again.”

Li Wenle stopped resisting. He stored the ginseng safely. In a few days, he’d slice it up and combine it with other herbs into medicine to nourish Meng Zhou’s body.

Noticing how listless Meng Zhou seemed, Li Wenle said, “Brother Meng, have a seat over there. Let me take your pulse.”

Meng Zhou had been feeling a bit off lately, so he quietly queued up, waiting as Li Wenle treated other patients.

He fell asleep while waiting.

When he woke up, dusk had fallen. The clinic was closed, the assistants gone, and only Li Wenle remained, grinding medicine with a grave expression.

Meng Zhou folded the blanket draped over him. “Sorry, I overslept. It’s late, you should go home before your mother worries.”

He no longer stayed at the Meng estate often, usually saying he was busy and sleeping at the Dali Temple or the Jiang estate. He’d only go home three days out of ten. He’d given his nanny a sum of silver and asked her to retire peacefully.

Li Wenle seemed troubled, looking as if he couldn’t speak. He finally placed a hand on Meng Zhou’s shoulder and said, “I… I just remembered. Your birthday is in two days. My mother asked me to invite you for a meal.”

It was the first time in two lifetimes that Meng Zhou had known his real birthday. It felt strangely new. Sensing Li Wenle had more to say, he went home with him.

His nanny was delighted to see him, fussing over him with concern. When she heard that Chu Huaiyin had helped the Jiang family keep their training grounds, she praised him endlessly. “Prince Huai is a good man. Your mother used to train there…”

Li Wenle silently closed the doors and windows, made a full table of dishes, and laid out the bowls.

When they sat to eat, Li Wenle wore a sad expression. He saw Meng Zhou picking at sour pickles and leaving the meat untouched, smiling as he said he’d eaten too much at noon.

Li Wenle couldn’t lie to himself that he’d misread the pulse.

“Mother, can Brother Meng… can he get pregnant?” he blurted.

Clatter!

The nanny dropped her chopsticks. Her expression changed from time to time, and finally she laughed dryly: “Wenle, don’t talk nonsense. How can the young master be pregnant?”

But before she could finish—

“He already is. And you’re still trying to hide it?” Li Wenle said, staring at his stunned mother and the wide-eyed Meng Zhou.

A piece of pickle slipped from Meng Zhou’s chopsticks and rolled onto his lap.

Three pairs of eyes followed it, landing on his lower belly.

Meng Zhou’s face went pale. “Brother Li, this isn’t funny…”

The nanny reacted even more fiercely. She stood up and grabbed a stool, her tone murderous though her wrinkled hands trembled. “Who? Young master, who bullied you?!”

Meng Zhou sat frozen.

Not because the nanny who’d always told him to endure was now enraged—but because her reaction meant…

He really could get pregnant.

It was like a thunderclap from heaven scorched him inside and out. He sat there in a daze, unable to speak for a long time.

How could he be pregnant?

Whose is it? Prince Huai’s?

A line from his dreams flashed through his mind—Jiang Yao’s whispered vow: “Never marry into a noble family.”

Meng Zhou’s bl00d ran cold.

“Was it the Zhou family? Or Meng Huaihan?” the nanny asked, voice shaking and eyes red with rage. She was ready to kill the mother-daughter pair and beg Jiang Yao’s forgiveness in the afterlife.

At first, the young lady did not care about what Zhou shi did in Guang’en Temple. Although she had a narrow escape, it was a blessing in disguise. There were no outsiders present, and they successfully concealed it from the world. They only felt lucky to have survived the disaster. Otherwise, given the situation of the Jiang family, they would not be able to protect Meng Zhou, and one day, Zhou shi might give him to some high official for some reason.

Jiang Yao longed for freedom—and would fight to the death to ensure her child had it too.

Only after the mark on the soles of the feet representing fertility disappeared did the nanny dare to carry the little boy out. Jiang Yao endured the hour after Meng Zhou was born. She didn’t dare to ask for hot water or make a sound. Her body was extremely weak. She had to see with her own eyes the mark on little Meng Zhou disappear before she dared to close her eyes.

From the beginning to the end, only three people knew about this matter: Jiang Yao, the wet nurse, and the abbot who named Meng Zhou.

Now there are two more, Li Wenle and Meng Zhou.

The wet nurse’s question briefly brought Meng Zhoue back to his senses. It was indeed Meng Huaihan who caused the incident, but in the end, he went to bed with Chu Huaiyin voluntarily.

He just thought that sleeping with Prince Huai was a good thing, how could he know that he would get pregnant!!!

This is a big loss!