The Prime Minister is Pregnant with Dragon's Seed - Chapter 2

A few strands of hair were caught in between them. When he moved, he felt the hand resting on his shoulder press down harder, signaling him not to move.

Chu Huaiyin’s face darkened, and upon closer inspection, the tips of his ears were a little red. With Meng Zhou’s hand draped over his neck, he felt half of his body going numb. With danger looming and every second critical, he had actually lost the vigilance and guardedness he prided himself on.

Meng Zhou, seeing that the other had no intention of playing along, took the initiative to play both roles himself. He lowered his voice into a coarse, menacing tone.

“Get—out! Stare one more time and I’ll gouge your eyes out!”

It was exactly Wang Junyang’s voice, perfectly mimicked in tone and fury.

“Uh—yes, sir!” The leading guard backed away in haste. To interrupt the second young master on his wedding night—ten heads wouldn’t be enough to save them.

The guards, recalling the second young master’s usual brutality, simultaneously touched their necks.

Still intact.

Speaking of which, the second young madam’s arms were so fair and slender… whoever marries such a woman would probably worship her like a goddess every day, not letting her lift a single finger.

“What are you all daydreaming about! Go search elsewhere! Keep your heads attached to your belts and eyes sharp!”

The room fell silent, the air tinged with awkwardness.

Meng Zhou gave the man on top a push. He didn’t know how to act out a spring scene, didn’t even move—it was nearly a dead giveaway. Whether marrying him was a stroke of luck or a calamity was really hard to say… He cut off his wandering thoughts and whispered, “Get up.”

Their tightly pressed bodies quickly separated, both sitting up with a considerable gap between them.

Meng Zhou professionally pinched his throats to let out a fabricated moan. He was good at falsetto and it was very easy for him. Propping himself up on the bed frame, he tilted his head with interest and stared at the man opposite him, satisfied to see his ears were getting redder and redder.

The people outside hadn’t gone far. It wasn’t a good time to leave yet. Only now did Meng Zhou have the leisure to study the man before him: He had long eyebrows and a handsome face. Unlike the pampered nobles of the capital, this man exuded a sharp, murderous aura, his dark eyes deep and unreadable.

Meng Zhou only looked for a moment before quickly averting his gaze—wow, that stare was terrifying.

The two remained silent, each harboring different intentions, neither revealing a thing.

After a while, Chu Huaiyin said, “I’ll get you out.”

Meng Zhou didn’t insist. Normally, he might have been confident in climbing over walls himself, but with the Right Prime Minister’s manor under lockdown, he wouldn’t stand a chance alone.

Chu Huaiyin made a motion as if to hug-carry him.

Meng Zhou raised his arms obediently: I’m light.

Chu Huaiyin paused and turned away. “Change your clothes first.”

Meng Zhou looked down. The wedding robe had been yanked into tatters. When he lifted his arms, pieces fluttered to the ground—he looked like a ghost bride dragged off by force. He pulled a moon-white robe from the cabinet. Wang Junyang and he were similar in build, so the robe fit well. Though also a second son of a Prime Minister, this was Meng Zhou’s first time wearing such fine fabric. He couldn’t help but feel a bit emotional.

Behind him came the rustling sounds of dressing. Chu Huaiyin idly twirled his jade ring with his right hand, waiting patiently.

“I’m done.”

Perhaps because he had carried him once already, Chu Huaiyin was quite adept this time. Wrapping his arm around Meng Zhou’s waist, he moved through the garden as if no one were around, and soon brought him out to Chang’an Street.

Meng Zhou’s tightly strung nerves finally relaxed. Only now did he remember—today’s trip had been for nothing. If it hadn’t been for some inexplicable person appearing out of nowhere, he would have found Ajuan by now.

“What is your purpose at the Wang residence?”

Meng Zhou’s eyes curved slightly, lips parting as he uttered two words: “Stealing someone.”

Chu Huaiyin’s expression darkened. Meng Zhou, suddenly feeling a little guilty, explained his plan to rescue Ajuan, omitting his true identity and framing it as a case of righteous interference.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with this.”

Not concern himself? How could he let it go without settling things?

Meng Zhou made to turn back toward the Wang estate but was promptly caught by the scruff of his neck. The other man seemed helpless. “At most by the day after tomorrow, Wang Junyang will release her. I guarantee it.”

Chu Huaiyin wasn’t sure why he was giving guarantees to this strange little guy. Everything about tonight felt off. He could have easily left before the Wang guards arrived, yet when he saw Meng Zhou’s panic-stricken eyes silently pleading, he had hesitated and chosen a more dangerous, thankless route.

He told himself: barging in had brought trouble to this fake bride—he was merely cleaning up the mess.

That was how Chu Huaiyin justified it.

But since when had he become so… benevolent?

“What’s your name?” he asked.

Meng Zhou’s eyes flickered, and he answered earnestly, “Zhang Zhou.”

Chu Huaiyin didn’t doubt him. “Go home, then.”

Meng Zhou assessed the situation internally and decided to trust him—for once. He rarely trusted anyone.

He had barely walked a few steps when Chu Huaiyin called again.

“The one who went through the wedding ceremony with Wang Junyang… that was you too?”

That almost made him puke up yesterday’s dinner—what a sacrifice. That’s what Meng Zhou thought to himself, though he only replied, “Mm.”

Chu Huaiyin had asked casually, but upon hearing the answer, he felt inexplicable tightness in his chest. He wanted to find Wang Junyang and beat him up. He also had a subtle discomfort of being “thrown away after being used.”

*****

Meng Zhou had many skills. He thinks things through before doing things, and is quite willing to take risks regardless of the consequences. Deep down, it was because—he wasn’t really Meng Zhou.

In his previous life, he grew up in an orphanage and somehow entered the entertainment industry. He has outstanding appearance, is good at acting, is eloquent, and knows how to read people’s eyes. He stumbled all the way and made his way through the industry with great energy until he became a legend in the entertainment industry.

Just when Meng Zhou thought it was time to take a rest, he woke up to find himself flailing in water. On the shore stood a girl in a pale yellow dress, around fifteen or sixteen, smiling coldly with upturned lips. Those around her lowered their heads in silence.

The original Meng Zhou had always feared water and couldn’t swim. He had probably struggled in the lake for quite some time. When the current Meng Zhou took over, he was already exhausted, having swallowed several mouthfuls of water. His mind was foggy and barely functioning.

Even an expert swimmer couldn’t have saved that.

Was this sleep paralysis… with drowning?

That thought crossed his mind. His limbs gradually stopped flailing as he closed his eyes, focused, and desperately tried to wake up from the dream.

The girl clapped her hands in satisfaction when he stopped moving. With an innocent smile, she flicked her sleeve and left with her servants.

Suddenly, a black shadow swooped down from the treetop, landed on a Taihu stone, and pulled Meng Zhou back from the gates of death.

After confirming he was still breathing, the figure shouted “Someone fell into the water!” Then, the sound of Meng Zhou’s wet nurse rushing over was heard and the shadow disappeared in an instant, leaving no trace.

If Meng Zhou hadn’t been coughing so hard that he was about to die, he would have remembered that a dark shadow pulled him up. It was really a good deed without leaving a trace.

Meng Zhou returned late from the Wang estate. People in this era went to bed early, so normally, everyone would’ve returned to their rooms by now. Seeing the lights still on in the main hall, Meng Zhou suddenly recalled—oh, it was Madam Meng’s birthday.

He kept his eyes straight ahead and walked toward the side corridor without even a greeting. This whole family had nothing to do with him.

A bundle of chopsticks flew his way. Meng Zhou had expected it and dodged. The chopsticks clattered to the floor.

“Han’er, how unseemly for a young lady!” Meng Fushan reprimanded. His eyes, fixed on the tea leaves unfurling in his cup, revealed no emotion through the rising steam.

“Father, look at Meng Zhou! Today’s mother’s birthday. I sent someone to tell him last night so we could eat as a family. Not only did he return late, but he also ignored us completely. Truly a wild child raised without a mother guidance—no manners at all.” Meng Huaihan said scornfully, knowing exactly which words would anger her timid second brother the most.

Meng Zhou glanced at the “younger sister” who had pushed him into the lake. He lifted his eyelids, unmoved. House politics were tedious, but Meng Huaihan had grown increasingly arrogant, treating human life as a joke…

Meng Zhou gave a slight smirk, “A gentleman’s revenge may wait ten years.” Meng Huaihan’s cruelty had been enabled and nurtured by others. Targeting her alone wouldn’t be enough. What he wanted was to crush the entire Meng family one day—to take back everything they owed Meng Zhou, and everything they owed the Jiang family.

The Jiang family was Meng Zhou’s maternal clan. Over ten years ago, they were a famed military household. From the founding of Great Wei, Jiang men had died on the battlefield, amassing countless honors.

Meng Zhou ignored Huaihan’s clumsy provocation and went to his room. Meng Fushan sat a while longer before heading to the study.

In the hall, Meng Huaihan gritted her teeth. “Mother, ever since he recovered from the drowning, it’s like he’s become someone else. No matter how we scold him, he doesn’t talk back. Did he become an idiot?”

Zhou shi tidied a loose strand of hair and said calmly, “Just remember, I endured humiliation 20 years ago not to let you suffer the same injustice as I did.”

“I know, Mother. Hmph. If Jiang Yao knew in the afterlife her son was so cowardly and tolerant, I wonder how she would feel? She would be so angry that she would chase him with a club, right?” Huaihan said with a laugh, and Madam Zhou joined her. They chatted a bit more before retiring.

Meng Zhou’s room was in the lowest, most remote part of the estate.

In this area, even lanterns and candles along the way are no longer lit. A servant held up the flickering lantern and said, “Young master…”

“You’re going to bring up what the nanny said again, right?” Meng Zhou cut in. “I’m fine. I can endure.”

The servant scratched his head awkwardly. The nanny always told him to bear it for now. He didn’t entirely agree, but there wasn’t much else the young master could do.

The entanglements of the previous generation ran deep. The one who behaved most despicably was Meng Fushan himself—he didn’t deserve such a virtuous name.

Meng Fushan had lost his parents young but had grown up to be elegant and handsome man. He married the daughter of a merchant, Madam Zhou, using this as capital to fund his journey to the capital for the imperial exams, where he won the top three place.

During the celebration parade, his scholarly air and refined demeanor made him stand out. He had an outstanding temperament, and among the crowd, he stood out as a scholar, reserved but not arrogant, and was favored by General Jiang’s daughter at first sight.

At that time, the Jiang family was famous and had made many military achievements. Jiang Yao was beautiful, and her father, Jiang Zhanyu, was in his prime. Her younger brother, Jiang Yi, was outstanding and had the aura of a future general. Many families dreamed of an alliance. But Jiang Yao had eyes only for this humble scholar from outside the capital, who was cleaner than the young men of the capital and more elegant than men in the barracks.

Jiang Yi said his sister had been blinded by lard, falling for a hypocrite. The siblings had a big fight and their relationship almost broke down. Jiang Yao was determined. Jiang Zhanyu doted on his daughter, so he sent someone to inquire about Meng Fushan’s marriage.

Meng Fushan, wanting to take advantage of this favorable situation, claimed to be unmarried. Jiang Yi secretly sent people to investigate, but before results came, war broke out in the north. The situation on the battlefield was changing rapidly, and Jiang Zhanyu wanted to find a reliable person to entrust Jiang Yao to before leaving. Finally Jiang and Meng quickly became relatives under the auspices of Emperor Tianyuan, and then the father and son of the Jiang family went on an expedition.

Three months later, Jiang Yao discovered she was pregnant. Meanwhile, in her hometown, Zhou shi, sensing something amiss, brought her three-year-old son to the capital. Meng Fushan refused to acknowledge them. Mother and son collapsed outside the Meng estate in tears. Only then did Jiang Yao finally saw Meng Fushan’s true face. On the one hand, she felt sorry for Zhou’s innocence and did not want the mother and son to be stranded outside, so Jiang Yao took Zhou shi in and treated her with courtesy.

Who would have thought that half a year later, tragedy struck. Her father and brother perished in battle, and their bodies were nowhere to be found. News arrived when Jiang Yao was seven months pregnant and praying for them at Guang’en Temple. Grief triggered early labor, and without a midwife, she was left with lifelong health issues after she gave birth. Once a brilliant and capable general’s daughter, who could ride and shoot, became weak and frail. At the beginning she cried all days.

With the Jiang men gone, their once-proud household collapsed overnight. Emperor Tianyuan sympathized with the bloodline of the Jiang family. He granted that Meng Zhou, when grown, would be allowed into court service without examination.

“This world,” said the emperor, “reserves its deepest compassion and trust for the descendants of the Jiang family.” This move won unanimous praise from the court.

After that, Meng Fushan’s attitude changed. Zhou shi, who used to be meek and submissive, turned on a dime—only slightly slower than Meng Fushan himself.

Jiang Yao was still in her confinement period after childbirth when Zhou shi forced her into a damp, remote courtyard, moving herself into the main residence and taking the role of the mistress of the household. When Meng Zhou turned one, she claimed that since the master was an honest and incorruptible official, it was inappropriate to hold a lavish banquet. When Meng Zhou turned two, Zhou shi noticed his intelligence and charm and feared he would outshine her own son. She then suggested to Meng Fushan that by logic, since one came before the other, Jiang Yao should be demoted to concubine and Meng Zhou be regarded as illegitimate.

Jiang Yao and Meng Fushan’s marriage had been bestowed by the Emperor. To demote her to concubine—what a ridiculous notion!

However, with the court turning a blind eye to the Jiang family’s plight and Zhou’s family business thriving and expanding into the capital, Meng Fushan silently agreed to all her unreasonable demands.

When Meng Zhou turned fourteen, Zhou shi’s embezzlement and bullying became even more blatant. Jiang Yao’s health steadily declined; they couldn’t afford good medicine, and she finally passed away.

Looking back, Meng Zhou couldn’t help but sigh at Jiang Yao’s tragic fate. Time reveals people’s hearts. She was momentarily foolish and soft-hearted, misjudging two people—and ruined her life.

After successfully defeating Jiang Yao, Zhou shi no longer paid attention to Meng Zhou. But his life didn’t improve. The conflict shifted to the next generation—Meng Huaihan picked up the baton from Zhou shi.

The original Meng Zhou believed that it was better to avoid trouble, knowing his father wouldn’t intervene anyway. Even though he could’ve easily overpowered Meng Huaihan many times, he always endured it.

Except when Meng Huaihan insulted Jiang Yao.

It was boring to bully a silent punching bag. Once Meng Huaihan discovered this weak spot, she grew increasingly vicious, exploiting it again and again with impunity. During their final conflict, she pushed his unguarded brother into the lake—where Meng Zhou drowned.

Half of this story came from the wet nurse, the other half Meng Zhou pieced together from the words and actions of Zhou shi and her daughter.

When Meng Zhou transmigrated, he had no memories of the original owner.

There was only one scene that repeated itself again and again in his dreams. Jiang Yao, on her deathbed, made him kneel by her side and swear: “In this life, you will take no concubines, and enter a noble household¹.”

Perhaps her death had too great an impact on the original host—that scene remained etched in memory.

Meng Zhou could understand the first part. Jiang Yao had suffered too much from the chaos of the inner court; she genuinely hoped her son would devote himself wholly to his wife.

But the second part? Never enter a noble household?
What counted as “entering”? How “noble” was too noble? What was the underlying cause and effect?

When Meng Zhou had his first dream, he’d asked the wet nurse about it. She hemmed and hawed, saying the madam had forbidden her to speak of it. She said that It was nothing important and it would be better if Meng Zhou don’t know.

Meng Zhou decided not to dig deeper. Among both the living and the dead, the ones who had loved him most were Jiang Yao and the wet nurse. If they didn’t want him to know, they must have had their reasons. The original host was never good at keeping secrets—perhaps Jiang Yao had considered that. Even though Meng Zhou wanted to yell, “Just tell me—I can take it!”

Author’s Note:
Meng Zhou: Running away? I don’t approve. If you’re a man, just do it!

Chu Huaiyin: Yes, that’s right.

[Several months later…] Meng Zhou: I have something to do so I left.

Chu Huaiyin: Come back to me!.