The Prime Minister is Pregnant with Dragon's Seed - Chapter 22

There were still matters left to handle in the capital, and Meng Zhou couldn’t just drop everything and flee. But he could prepare some money now, in case something urgent happens in the future and he doesn’t have time to get the money.

 

He packed silver and disguise equipment into a bundle, then went into a bustling ready-made clothing shop and picked out a deep-gray cross-collared robe.

 

He entered as the handsome Dali Temple official and exited as a hunched, wretched old man.

 

He limped around a few corners and immediately straightened up, he immediately ran out of the city with nimble steps.

 

It had rained the night before. Damp red earth under the trees smelled of humus and rot, decaying leaves muffling the rustling of insects beneath.

 

Meng Zhou pretended to be a traveler stopping to relieve himself. He left the official road, found a hidden spot, and glanced left and right. No one.

 

Seventh poplar tree. Start digging.

 

Without a hoe, Meng Zhou snapped off a branch and huffed and puffed his way through a pit about forearm-deep. He solemnly placed a bag of silver inside, feeling oddly like a cat stashing its beloved dried fish into a secret burrow.

 

No, no—can’t be dried fish. The cat-buried-fish story ends in total loss.

 

“I’m not a cat…” Meng Zhou quickly switched stories in his head. Once, there was a hired hand working for a landlord. While feeding pigs, he noticed the trough never emptied. Turned out, the trough was a treasure basin. Tsk—if he had one, he could dig out endless gold ingots over time…

 

The hired hand later asked the landlord for the trough. On the way home, finding it too heavy, he buried it on a barren hill and stuck a birch branch as a marker. When he returned with help, the hill had become a forest—birch trees everywhere. He couldn’t tell which was the original marker.

 

Meng Zhou paused, counting on his fingers three times from start to finish—he was sure. Seventh poplar.

 

“I’m not a hired hand either,” he muttered.

 

Someone who still owed Chu Huaiyin seven thousand taels. That was even worse than the lowest servant in Prince Huai’s Household.

 

While covering the pit back up, Meng Zhou remembered the old saying: “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.” So he divided the silver, dug two more pits in separate locations, and buried the rest.

 

Possibly because of his overwhelming guilt, Meng Zhou didn’t think of a single good idea the whole time. Once everything was done, he let out a long breath and stood up.

 

His fingers trembled slightly as he pressed a hand to his abdomen, gripping through the rough cloth.

 

Preparing travel funds meant he had taken a crucial step forward. For the first time, Meng Zhou faced his pregnancy head-on. At first, he hadn’t even dared look at his belly during baths—he would hurriedly wipe off and curl up under the blanket like a quail.

 

Now that he’d made up his mind, it didn’t seem so difficult. After all, he wasn’t alone anymore, was he?

 

From the start, he had shouldered the deep grudge of the Jiang family. Now, there was the added weight of parental responsibility. No matter how hard or exhausting, he would carry both on his back.

 

Meng Zhou had always been grateful for Chu Huaiyin’s presence—someone who helped carry many of his burdens.

 

But in this world where people like him are generally treated as tools for having children, whether it is out of selfishness or to abide by Jiang Yao’s last wish of “not taking concubines or marrying into a higher class family”, there are some things that cannot be gambled.

 

Meng Zhou washed his hands by the river and changed back into his original clothes. On the way back to the city, he noticed the gates were under strict guard. He hesitated. Which faction was this? If he ran into Liu family people, things could get ugly.

 

Ji Yang was stationed at the city gates with his men. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw someone who looked like Meng Zhou. But in a blink, the person was gone.

 

“Brother Ji!” a voice called from behind.

 

Ji Yang turned and nearly burst into tears. After such an all-out search, one more scare and he might have shaved ten years off his life.

 

“What happened?” Meng Zhou asked in a low voice.

 

“His Highness couldn’t find you and panicked,” Ji Yang said, hoping to score some points for his master. Even he couldn’t bear to see how frantic Chu Huaiyin had been earlier.

 

“His Highness was afraid the Liu family had captured you. He ordered a full lockdown of the city. This is the first time I have seen the master change his plan because of one person.”

 

“Why?” Meng Zhou was bewildered. All in all, he’d only been gone for less than two hours. How had things escalated so quickly?

 

Ji Yang choked up, unable to answer. He certainly couldn’t say the secret guards had lost track of Meng Zhou. Things Chu Huaiyin hadn’t revealed, Ji Yang would not dare to mention.

 

Meng Zhou didn’t press. Rubbing his hands awkwardly, he asked, “Where’s Prince Huai now?”

 

Ji Yang sent word back to Chu Huaiyin and personally escorted Meng Zhou to a teahouse to wait.

 

Chu Huaiyin had just returned from the clothing shop, where Meng Zhou’s disguise had been flawless—he left no trace behind. Having found nothing, Chu Huaiyin was about to lead his troops to raid the Liu residence. No need for another excuse; hoarding weapons was crime enough.

 

Just then, Ji Yang’s men arrived with news: Meng Zhou had been found, unharmed.

 

Chu Huaiyin let out a breath. It had been years since he felt such nerves. But now that tension gave way to inexplicable anger—why couldn’t Meng Zhou just stay home?

 

It was an unreasonable and tyrannical thought, but he couldn’t suppress it.

 

So when he saw the red mud on Meng Zhou’s shoe soles—mud that could only be found outside the city—his voice was sharp, and laced with an ominous edge: “Where did you go just now?”

 

Meng Zhou sat upright in his chair, both hands carefully cradling a steaming teacup. At Chu Huaiyin’s words, he obediently put down the untouched tea and pushed it farther away, afraid it might be caught in the crossfire.

 

To be honest, between being found out as pregnant or being scolded for lying, Meng Zhou decisively chose the latter.

 

“I saw some strange out-of-towners near the Liu residence,” Meng Zhou said, “All of them strong and dark-skinned—looked like guards-for-hire who’ve seen a lot of rough travel. Their shoes had red mud. I guessed there might be a base outside the city, so I disguised myself and…”

 

That part was actually true. He had seen them—just hadn’t had the time to investigate.

 

“What did you find?” Chu Huaiyin asked, staring at the rippling tea in his cup, voice unreadable.

 

Meng Zhou lowered his head, exposing a pale, vulnerable nape.

“Nothing.”

 

“Haven’t I told you not to take risks?!” Chu Huaiyin slammed the cup down with a loud bang. Even Ji Yang, who had long since grown used to major scenes, flinched.

 

Green tea splashed, the delicate porcelain shattered in his hand.

 

Near the Liu residence. Strong, armed men… What’s the difference between these two words put together and “dragon’s den and tiger’s lair”?!

 

“You swore an oath! Have I been too lenient with you? So much that you treat my words as wind in your ears?!”

 

Meng Zhou was stunned. He thought today would be like always—stern words, light punishment. A quick promise not to do it again, and it would all blow over. He opened his mouth to explain and calm Chu Huaiyin down, when suddenly a wave of nausea surged—

 

“Ugh…”

 

Before he could make a sound, he clapped a hand over his mouth, jumped up, and ran to the wall, pinching his thigh hard.

 

No—this reaction was too suspicious… he couldn’t throw up. Chu Huaiyin was too smart…

 

The feeling of nausea came in waves, and it was impossible for an ordinary person to hold it in. Meng Qi bit the back of his hand, his teeth digging into the flesh, and the pain made him cry.

 

Meng Qi actually couldn’t figure out whether it was pregnancy or some other reason, but at this critical juncture when he was escaping, he couldn’t allow any mistakes to happen.

 

Chu Huaiyin was a second too late. All he saw was Meng Zhou biting his hand, crying his heart out, his face a mess.

 

He’d cried.

 

Chu Huaiyin panicked.

 

“Meng Zhou, Meng Zhou…” He patted the aggrieved little cat’s back with one hand, the other trying to pull his hand away from his mouth. “Where does it hurt?”

 

Meng Zhou shook his head wildly, a few tears splashing onto Chu Huaiyin’s hand—like drops of boiling oil, burning right to the core.

 

“Can I really do anything to you? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper… Why are you crying…” Chu Huaiyin held his two hands together, circled Meng Qi’s upper body, to prevent him from torturing himself.

 

Meng Zhou, soaked in tears, looked like a flower beaten by rain. Chu Huaiyin had only seen him like this once. The little cat should always be vibrant and spirited. Guilt surged in his heart. He had never meant to make Meng Zhou cry—he barely had enough time to spoil him.

 

“l promise, there won’t be a next time.” Chu Huaiyin coaxed the kitten in a gentle voice, wiping away a string of tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry anymore. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. As an apology, alright?”

 

He even took off the signet ring on his thumb—emblem of the Northern Army—and offered it.

“This—play with this.”

 

Ji Yang looked like he’d seen a ghost.

 

Was the battlefield demon possessed?! What happened to the last person who Prince Huai scolded to cry? Certainly not… being coaxed like this?

 

And this was how he coaxed people?! “Here, play with this”? Does he think he is a toddler?

 

However, Meng Zhou relied on self-abuse and acting skills. Once the nausea subsided, his tears stopped immediately, leaving only redness in the corners of his eyes. Coincidentally, he was “coaxed”.

 

Ji Yang: …I’m buying a gold ring tomorrow. For coaxing my wife.

 

Meng Zhou, having wiped his tears, felt a little embarrassed.

 

Shameful.

 

To outsiders, he seems to be a man who dares to do things but not to take responsibility, and starts crying when he is scolded.

 

But these tears came at the right time, saving him from disaster and also covering up his possible morning sickness.

 

Meng Qi was ruthless, and there was a circle of bright teeth marks on the back of his hand, which was swollen and bleeding, and a bruise on his thigh. Chu Huaiyin applied ointment, and though Meng Zhou sniffled and held out his hand, he discreetly hid the bruised leg.

 

His hands were long-fingered and smooth, with no calluses. Not delicate, but definitely not soft.

 

Chu Huaiyin sighed. “Crying isn’t shameful. Why bite yourself like a drumstick?”

 

Meng Zhou couldn’t explain.

 

Ugh.

 

It turned out, Prince Huai had many tricks up his sleeve. He pulled out… a hairpin.

 

A pair to the one Meng Zhou’s mother had left for his wedding. The original had ended up with a brothel girl connected to a gambling den, and Chu Huaiyin had retrieved it.

 

“This…” Meng Zhou froze. How did he know it was Jiang Yao’s?

 

“I saw one under your bed at the Meng estate,” Chu Huaiyin rubbed his nose. “Yesterday, during a raid, I saw this one—it had to be a pair. Your mother must’ve pawned it.”

 

Given their bedroom activities, it wasn’t strange he’d seen it.

 

Even so, Meng Zhou blushed from ears to neck, heat rising under his clothes.

 

He stroked the half-open jade lotus hairpin, still holding the battle-worn ring. The engraved patterns of ancient script pressed into his palm, intertwining with his lifeline.

 

A faint smile tugged at his lips. An impossible thought took root in his heart.

 

Ji Yang was speechless. His lord was too strong. He better start taking notes, it might come in handy.

 

Meng Zhou handed the ring back to Prince Huai and said, “I, I…”

 

A sudden commotion broke out below the teahouse. A group of house servants were chasing after a handsome young man in white. While their mouths shouted “Stop him,” their actions were unusually respectful.

 

Ji Yang craned his neck to look and reported back to Prince Huai with a headache, “It’s from Ji Hanlin’s household.” Though they shared the surname Ji, they had nothing in common. After all, he would doze off the moment he saw the Four Books and Five Classics.

 

Ji Hanlin and Guan Jiasheng had passed the palace exam in the same year. With clear eyes and striking features, he was a picture of elegance—but secretly devious.

 

Prince Huai recalled the man: he appeared indifferent to court affairs, but it stemmed from pride, not apathy. He was no rigid scholar either—he could trap someone with a blink of an eye.

 

Ji Yang clapped his hands. “Right, I heard a few days ago that the young master from Ji Hanlin’s family is pregnant.” Running around with a child on the way, the worrying look on his face seemed a little familiar.

 

Young master?

 

Meng Zhou’s ears instantly perked up. Just like him? He squeezed over to Ji Yang’s side, eyes wide, and sure enough—the leaping young master’s belly had a faint bulge. The servants surrounded him at a respectful distance, looking like they wished they could tie him up and drag him home.

 

“Why are they catching him?” Meng Zhou frowned. What’s wrong with walking a few steps on the street?

 

“Pregnant people should be at home to take good care of themselves,” Ji Yang replied casually. The streets were chaotic these days—who dared to wander freely? Just now, even His Highness got anxious when you disappeared for a bit.

 

Considering that Meng Qi had just cried because of this matter, Ji Yang tactfully did not mention it.

 

“Is Ji Hanlin away?” Prince Huai rotated his thumb ring and nodded at Ji Yang.

 

Take him home.

 

Prince Huai had heard of the affair between Ji Hanlin and the young man. One of the few in Great Wei bold enough to openly take a man as a wife. Their relationship was clearly loving, yet the wife frequently ran off, and only Ji Hanlin himself could bring him back. Treated as a bit of fun, perhaps—but with the capital in turmoil, The officers and soldiers were inspecting weapons everywhere. They would open piles of cold and shining swords at any time. If the criminals did not cooperate, they would fight in the street. It was very scary.

 

Prince Huai valued Ji Hanlin’s talent. Today’s gesture was goodwill. If the other party was clever, he would respond in kind.

 

“Yes, sir.” Ji Yang leapt from the teahouse and blocked the white-robed youth in a flash. “Master Ji requests the young master return home.”

 

The young man stomped his foot. “I finally got away from one Ji, and here comes another!” He followed a group of servants back home unwillingly. Although he seemed to be forced, his steps were quite calm.

 

A chill ran through Meng Zhou’s heart. He didn’t want to watch anymore—and thus missed the next scene: a cavalry unit galloped past, sabers flashing with the Second Prince’s insignia, slicing through the air recklessly, with no regard for civilians.

 

Whatever you worry about in your heart will automatically be magnified in your eyes. At this moment, Meng Qi could not pay attention to the calm side of the young man in white, but only saw his reluctance and lack of freedom.

 

Walk a few steps and you get dragged home. When the servants fail, even Prince Huai steps in, and passers-by looked at like a show.

 

He thought Chu Huaiyin might be different from those people. He was confident and strong enough that he didn’t need to suppress a certain type of people to consolidate his position.

 

It turns out that when it comes to the common interests of the group, Prince Huai is no exception.

 

“What were you about to say just now?”

 

“Nothing… I was just going to ask—what day is it?”

 

“The tenth.”

 

The brothel thug Meng Huaihan had a fling with was named Wang Dafu, and he would be coming to propose on the twelfth. Meng Zhou guessed the Meng family would soon make a move. After all, dead men don’t need weddings.

 

This time, Meng Zhou had learned. He raised his hand and asked if he could go to Wang Dafu’s house.

 

He’ll just take a look.

 

Won’t take action.

 

His little kitten face was still streaked with tears, lashes wet and stuck together, his hoarse voice pleading.

 

Who could say no?

 

The invincible Prince Huai did not dare to refuse.

 

Chu Huaiyin went with him.

 

Before they reached Wang Dafu’s doorstep, Prince Huai suddenly scooped Meng Zhou up and leapt into a tree. Meng Zhou, startled, tried to pry the hand off his waist as soon as he steadied himself.

 

“Don’t move—someone’s there.”

 

A servant sneakily slipped into Wang Dafu’s house and left shortly after. Wang Dafu, proudly boasting about marrying into the Left Prime Minister’s family, was constantly drunk these days. He pushed open his door to pour water, not noticing the white powder underfoot.

 

“What luck,” Prince Huai murmured, pulling out a hidden weapon and knocking the water jug from Wang Dafu’s hands. Wang Dafu suddenly became alert. He was almost pushed into the river and died a few days ago. He was alert in his heart. Although he seemed to be drunk recently, he was actually still sober.

 

He glanced around warily, almost approaching the tree where Meng Zhou was hiding. Prince Huai made a small distraction elsewhere to draw him away.

 

“Make a cat sound,” Prince Huai whispered by Meng Zhou’s ear.

 

They were too close. Meng Zhou’s ears twitched and he glared: Why?!

 

“So we can sneak away,” said Prince Huai, who could have entered any minister’s home undetected, clearly just teasing.

 

Meng the little kitten, mind preoccupied by whether Prince Huai would feel the oddity of his belly, gave in with deep humiliation.

 

“Meow.”

 

Immediately afterwards, there was a slight movement like a cat jumping up a tree, and then both the man and the cat disappeared.

 

***

 

The Meng Family was now in chaos.

 

Meng Fushan was in charge of investigating the weapons case. He hadn’t risen to Left Prime Minister by his looks alone. In just a day, he had traced the issue back to his father-in-law.

 

Who was still living in his house.

 

Meng Fushan was good at keeping himself safe, and he almost went crazy when he heard about this. He suppressed the news and summoned Zhou shi, Meng Huaihan, and Zhou Hancai together.

 

“I, Meng Fushan, stand upright and have nothing to hide. I may not kill my kin for righteousness, but I will not consort with traitors.” He laid a divorce letter on the table. “From today, the Meng and Zhou families go their separate ways.”

 

Madam Zhou trembled as she read the letter, then clutched his collar in a frenzy: “The Zhou family supported your studies, sent you to the capital, I bore your children and managed your household—what did I ever do to you? Meng Fushan, if you dare to drive me away today, let’s perish together!”

 

Meng Huaihan paled, pulling at her grandfather’s sleeve. “Grandfather, this—”

 

Zhou Hancai had already foreseen this the moment Meng Fushan began speaking. This spineless coward, who eats and hides from others and seeks profit and avoids harm is still like this after 20 years!

 

Meng Fushan shook off Madam Zhou and straightened his sleeves. “You lacked virtue, held grudges, mistreated your stepson, raised your daughter poorly, indirectly caused my first wife Jiang Yao’s death, and nearly killed my daughter. I have ample grounds to divorce you.”

 

Madam Zhou laughed bitterly. “Okay, you knew and did nothing! It was you who killed Jiang Yao! If you hadn’t let me do it, would I have treated Jiang Yao like that! Meng Fushan, you are not a human! I don’t recognize this divorce letter. We are grasshoppers on the same string, no one can escape!”

 

Tears streamed down her face. She remembered when they first married—before Meng Fushan revealed his true nature. Like Jiang Yao, she’d believed she had found a lifetime partner. They were once young, pampered girls. Who wasn’t a delicate and innocent little girl? It was Meng Fushan who made her like this!

 

“You’ll accept it whether you like it or not.” Meng Fushan sneered. “His Majesty himself arranged my marriage with Jiang Yao. Who are you to object? Guards, escort Miss Zhou and Master Zhou out.”

 

Meng Fushan came well prepared, and there was a row of guards standing outside the door, watching eagerly.

 

Zhou Hancai kicked over a table in anger, causing the teapot and vase to shatter all over the floor. Before leaving, he glared at Meng Fushan and smiled sinisterly, “The capital’s fate is still unclear, and Lord Meng showing of his power. Let’s see who wins in the end.”

 

Meng Fushan lifted a teacup, calm as ever. “Take care.”

 

He’d used these days to probe the capital’s powers and realized Prince Huai’s influence was far greater than expected. The Second Prince’s faction didn’t yet realize they were already trapped.

 

Madam Zhou called for Meng Huaihan to leave with her. Meng Huaihan hesitated. She was scolded as an ungrateful wretch, but in the end, she chose to stay.

 

Still in shock, she heard from the servants that Wang Dafu had come to propose. Her face turned pale with panic—why wasn’t he dead yet? Did Grandfather fail?

 

Meng Fushan didn’t even lift an eyelid. He casually sent the steward to accept the betrothal gifts. He was so cold and indifferent that he didn’t seem like a father whose little daughter was about to get married.

 

Meng Huaihan gnashed her teeth.

 

Her father was unreliable, her grandfather too. Her mother had left. Judging by the situation, if she stayed, she’d just become Meng Zhou’s illegitimate sister.

 

She wanted to skin Meng Zhou alive. Standing there clenching her fists for half an hour, who knew what schemes she was brewing, but eventually, she went back to her room to gather the private savings she’d hoarded over the years.

 

Fine, she’d marry. The future was long. With money, what couldn’t she do?

 

Meng Fushan was shrewd. After divorcing his wife, he went straight to the Emperor to confess, admitting the Zhou family’s crimes and his own oversight. He never once mentioned the rivalry between princes, only objectively reported the weapons investigation in the capital, making it sound like the Zhou family was the sole mastermind.

 

He was cunning. He knew if he said the same thing to Prince Huai, he’d be punished. So, he acted fast, before Prince Huai officially seized power, using the Emperor’s hand to clear his name.

 

He had always presented himself as an upright, incorruptible scholar. He didn’t form factions or cliques, and only loyal to the Emperor. Emperor Tianyuan was pleased and waved it off, saying ignorance wasn’t a crime. The Zhou family was judged as traitors, and Meng’s past merits offset his fault. He was fined three years’ salary as a warning.

 

On another front, Meng Fushan cooperated fully with Prince Huai to hunt down the capital’s rebels, clearly trying to curry favor.

 

A few days later, a poisoning scandal erupted in the palace.

 

The Emperor’s personal eunuch, under the Empress’s orders, had been lacing the calming tea with slow-acting poison—for five or six years now.

 

In short, the Empress and the Second Prince had been plotting to murder Emperor Tianyuan ever since Chu Huaiyin left the capital to fight. Too bad for them—the Emperor had luck on his side and endured his feeble health for years. Even after Prince Huai returned, there was no sudden death, no forged will to install the Second Prince.

 

But now, the Second Prince was like a cornered dog. He tried to poison the Emperor outright and forge an edict transferring the throne.

 

The Emperor narrowly survived.

 

Emperor Tianyuan escaped death and finally experienced the anger of Chu Huaiyin when his military pay was misappropriated and he almost died in battle. The Emperor imprisoned the Empress and Second Prince, and named Prince Huai as Crown Prince.

 

The Liu family was confiscated. Liu Hongbao admitted guilt. His entire staff was thrown in jail. Based on confessions, the most trusted aide was missing. The court issued a national warrant. His portrait was posted at every checkpoint, with a heavy bounty on his head.

 

Meng Zhou was a little disappointed that Meng Fushan came out of it unscathed.

 

However, Great Wei had no law against bigamy.

 

Jiang Xin, following Meng Zhou’s instructions, had taken over a few of the General’s household assets. They were small and shabby, but at least brought in some income. He visited the countryside to collect rent and was thrilled on his first day.

 

On the way back, a half-blind Taoist was selling fortunes and charms.

 

Jiang Xin: One look and he knew this was a true immortal!

 

So he handed over the silver he’d just received without hesitation. Grinning, he held the peace charm in a little pouch like it was treasure, and presented it to Meng Zhou.

 

Jiang Xin looked at his nephew with starry eyes, waiting to be praised.

 

Meng Zhou tucked the pouch into his sleeve. Jiang Xin, who always thought of him—how rare. The boy was growing up. His heart warmed slightly. He casually asked, “You went to a temple?”

 

“No, I met a Taoist on the road, and bought it with twenty taels.”

 

“…………”

 

Meng Zhou smiled: “Go kneel in the ancestral hall fo a night.”

 

“Why, nephew—nephew, I won’t go…”

 

—

 

Meanwhile, with Prince Huai now the Crown Prince, the capital’s power dynamics flipped completely. The Second Prince’s faction was eradicated. Everyone scrambled to cozy up to Prince Huai—even Meng Zhou was suddenly looked up to.

 

Meng Zhou, for the seventeenth time, waved off a rich merchant hoping to make connections. The merchant wore shimmering silk embroidered with golden threads and a thick gold chain. Standing before the penniless Meng Zhou, there was a strange reversal of status.

 

The merchant’s outfit was blinding, but he was actually quite practical. His servants carried two huge boxes of nuts and sweets. Meng Zhou salivated but still refused. “I really can’t help you get in touch with the Crown Prince.”

 

Besides, I’m about to run away. There’s no future for me.

 

In the west of the capital lay Qianyang Lake, clear and picturesque, bustling from morning to night with pleasure boats. It was a favorite destination of the young aristocrats.

 

Today was the Flower Boat Festival. The lake was lined with lavish boats, hosted by nobles and high officials. The owners say they are all well-known kings, princes, generals and ministers. At noon, there would be a boat race. The east side of the city emptied out, the west overflowed with people. All the small stalls in the city have moved their positions and are lined up on the shore.

 

It was said that Prince Huai would be attending today. Therefore the young ladies who had secretly fallen in love with the prince and the officials of all ranks who were trying to curry favor with the prince all crowded together to join in the fun.

 

Pleasure boats, perfect for love at first sight.

 

Prince Huai had plans to develop water transport. He’d arranged a meeting with one of the largest fleet in Wei to discuss shipbuilding.

 

The fleet was eager to please. They brought out a brand-new, three-deck cargo ship for Prince Huai’s inspection.

 

Meng Zhou followed Prince Huai aboard, feeling like a secretary tailing a CEO. A secretary who was about to embezzle funds and flee.

 

He sneezed several times in a row upon boarding. The smell was overpowering. He walked around and found that it was a new ship that had just been painted and had not yet carried any cargo.

 

The fleet owner is so sincere.

 

Meng Zhou rubbed his nose. In truth, Prince Huai preferred to inspect an old ship, as it would be easier to see its performance in all aspects.

 

As the ship headed toward the lake center, wine, dishes, and snacks were laid on the deck. Shipbuilding was one thing, but today was also to help Meng Zhou unwind. Chu Huaiyin had noticed a certain worry between his brows lately, and suspected that the events surrounding the Liu family and the Second Prince had caused Meng Qi to become overly stressed.

 

“I have good news—”

 

Meng Zhou sneezed.

 

Chu Huaiyin handed him a handkerchief. “The paint smell is too strong. Ji Yang, switch ships.”

 

Meng Zhou waved his hand. “No need. It’s better outside. Aren’t the races about to start?”

 

He glanced at the ships lined up on the shore, ready to set sail, and said, “It’s a new ship, so that’s inevitable.” But as he turned back, his eyes widened. Wait a second—why is this new ship sitting so low in the water?

 

He whipped his head toward the fleet owner, his gaze sharp. “Is there cargo on board?”

 

The owner’s eyes twitched into a crazed smile. Instead of answering, he said, “The wind is rising.”

 

A trap.

 

“Protect the Crown Prince!”

 

Chu Huaiyin pulled Meng Zhou behind him, kicked the table and the fleet owner in one motion. Ji Yang and the guards drew their swords.

 

A fierce wind swept the lake. The paint smell scattered, revealing the stench of sulfur and gunpowder.

 

There were explosives on the boat!

 

The guild master, coughing bl00d and laughing maniacally: “You didn’t expect a hidden level beneath the cargo hold, did you? All of it is explosives! Chu Huaiyin, so what if you’re Crown Prince? You’ll still die with the Liu family!”

 

Only their ship was in this area, to ensure Prince Huai was alone.

 

“Jump!” Chu Huaiyin made a quick decision.

 

All Meng Zhou heard through the wind was a hoarse: “Don’t be afraid—hold on to me.”

 

Chu Huaiyin took two steps and flew to the top of the boat with his men. He leapt to the mast with Meng Zhou, kicked off hard, and shot into the air like an arrow.

 

Meng Zhou thought, with that kind of force, Prince Huai’s leg might cramp. In midair, he shouted, “Let go once we’re in the water!” the last word of his yell was drowned out by the deafening explosion of the cargo ship.

 

Fire shot skyward. Clouds turned red and black. Waves surged. The moment they hit the water, a towering wave swallowed them whole.

 

Meng Zhou hadn’t expected his luck to be so rotten. He and Chu Huaiyin ended up in an undercurrent.

 

The violent whirlpool spun endlessly, a black abyss that seemed to lead straight to the underworld, dragging the two men into its depths. The current tore at their clothes, but even in such a life-or-death moment, Chu Huaiyin never let go of Meng Zhou. He struggled fiercely to surface, to keep the two of them alive.

 

Meng Zhou choked on water, waves pummeling him relentlessly. The current tried again and again to tear them apart. In the chaos, Chu Huaiyin was left clutching only Meng Zhou’s belt.

 

The sky was dark, torrential rain poured down, and the lake roared violently. They were too far from shore, whether they swam or waited for rescue, it would be a long, grueling fight. Chu Huaiyin, was stronger, could possibly make it. But dragging Meng Zhou with him would only make survival harder.

 

Meng Zhou couldn’t speak underwater, so he patted the hand still gripping his belt, signaling for Chu Huaiyin to let go. He wasn’t strong, but he could swim.

 

But Chu Huaiyin only held on tighter.

 

The murky lake made it impossible to see his expression, but the force of his grip was firm, unwavering, and warm.

 

Meng Zhou stared deeply at him for a long moment.

 

He hadn’t chosen the wrong person to follow.

 

Then, with a swift motion, he drew the dagger hidden in his boot and slashed the belt.

 

As the fabric tore, a massive wave crashed over them, flinging them apart.

 

For a split second, Meng Zhou saw Chu Huaiyin’s face contorted with fury and disbelief.

 

I’m sorry I took a risk again.

 

…

 

From a pleasure boat docked at the shore came the sounds of fierce cursing and fighting, interspersed with the occasional sound of tables and chairs falling to the ground.

 

A pale, waterlogged hand clutched the edge of the boat, thin and clawlike, just like a vengeful water ghost. It gripped tightly, then a soaked figure dragged itself overboard in a frantic scramble.

 

Meng Zhou collapsed on the deck, gasping for breath.

 

Turns out vows really do come true.

There really were damn crocodiles in the water!

 

The Liu family’s pool turns out to be connected to Qianyang Lake. Some bastard had removed the iron grate at the outlet, and the crocodiles had swum into the lake.

 

One had even chased after his ass!

Thankfully it was an injured one and couldn’t be as fast as him.

 

Clutching his rear in lingering fear, Meng Zhou cursed himself. Why had he made that stupid oath to a bunch of crocodiles?

 

Still, thanks to the crocodile chasing him, it aroused all his desire to survive, otherwise he might have been worn down by the surging lake water and lost his strength and consciousness, and drowned in this vast lake.

 

There seemed to be an argument in the boat, and no one noticed him. He lay limp like a drowned dog, then slowly got to his feet. It seemed like he’d stumbled into a private viewing deck—one side open to the lake, three sides enclosed. A small door stood ajar. This must’ve been a reserved seat for the boat race.

 

There was a table, chairs, even a chaise lounge. His clothes were half in tatters, and when he saw a fresh set of garments neatly folded on the chaise, he changed without hesitation.

 

Tipping his boots upside down, a small silver ingot clinked out.

He placed it on the table.

 

Consider it payment.

 

Robbery with courtesy.

 

He pushed open the door, wanting to leave without anyone noticing, but he heard Wang Junyang’s voice.

 

Wasn’t he supposed to be exiled with his father?

 

Meng Zhou paused to listen. Turns out Wang Junyang couldn’t handle the hardship of exile. He’d secretly come back to seek help from his so-called “buddies.”

 

But a “gang of scoundrels” earned that name for a reason.

Those rich young lords who once flattered him had all changed their attitude. Not only did they refuse to help him, they also ridiculed and insulted him, threatening to hand him over to the authorities.

 

Wang Junyang couldn’t stand this gap, and started fighting with others after a disagreement.

 

One man against three.

 

Meng Zhou found it boring and quietly slipped away.

 

He returned to shore, nearly collapsing.

The Imperial Guards had mobilized, throwing ropes into the lake, diving in groups, creating chaos. There was chaos everywhere, and the officers and soldiers almost surrounded Qianyang Lake.

 

Meng Zhou’s heart sank.

Could it be that Chu Huaiyin… hadn’t surfaced yet?

 

No way. When the wave had flung them apart, Chu Huaiyin had been closer to the shore.

 

He quickly stood on tiptoe to look and saw Chu Huaiyin standing at the other end of Qianyang Lake with Ji Yang holding an umbrella for him.

 

Only then did Meng Zhou breathe.

 

And then, his ears caught what the soldiers were shouting—

 

“Master Meng!”

 

His steps froze.

 

The original Meng Zhou couldn’t swim.

 

If Chu Huaiyin had let go, he would’ve drowned.

 

No one knew that the current Meng Zhou could swim.

 

Meng Zhou realized that this was the best time for him to leave the capital.

 

Chu Huaiyin stood drenched from head to toe, water dripping from his hair, his hands tightly clutching a strip of blue cloth, sliced clean by a sharp dagger.

 

“Your Highness, please change your clothes,” Ji Yang advised dryly.

 

Chu Huaiyin’s eyes were bloodshot. He stared stubbornly at the turbulent waters.

 

How did he let Meng Zhou slip away from him?!

 

He’d watched him be swept away by the current!

 

He’d barely survived himself and couldn’t bear to imagine what might have happened to Meng Zhou!

 

Chu Huaiyin’s fingers clenched so hard the fabric nearly tore. His voice was hoarse, thick with guilt and the dread of loss:

 

“Find Meng Zhou.”

 

In the distance, a figure cloaked in a straw cape and bamboo hat stood quietly. His appearance was entirely unrecognizable.

 

From afar, he gazed at Chu Huaiyin and whispered:

 

“Till we meet again.”

 

“Let’s go,” he said to the coachman.

 

He thought back to the cargo ship,

Chu Huaiyin had tried to tell him some good news, but he’d interrupted him with a sneeze, and they’d never finished.

 

What could it have been?

 

Meng Zhou was a vulgar man who could only think of getting promoted and making money.

 

No matter how low the skies or how misty the earth, this nation was still beautiful.

 

And it would, eventually, belong to you.

 

Chu Huaiyin, I hope the mountains and rivers¹ will bring us together again