The Prime Minister is Pregnant with Dragon's Seed - Chapter 7

On the ninth day, Meng Fushan celebrated his birthday.

As the current Left Prime Minister of the court, Meng Fushan was elegant and refined, a true gentleman. He loved interacting with scholars and literati, widely praised as the leader of the civil officials and a role model for aspiring scholars examinees. Every examination season, countless candidates would send their letters to him, to become his students, and he would take them under his wing.

Yan Xiang had just assumed the position of Right Prime Minister and lacked prestige, so for the moment, Meng Fushan was unmatched in influence. The Meng family sent out numerous invitations—even the Second Prince and Prince Huai honored them with their presence.

Meng Fushan’s eldest son, Meng Huai, also rushed back from out of town. He was four years older than Meng Zhou and served as an official elsewhere. Meng Fushan intended to transfer him back to the capital, so Zhou shi organized a grand banquet to seize the opportunity to arrange favorable marriages for her two children.

As dawn broke and shadows danced gently, the Meng household bustled in an orderly fashion in preparation for the birthday feast. Zhou shi, dressed in luxurious attire, had four golden butterfly hairpins on her head shimmering with every step. Even her usually sharp features were softened by an air of affluence. She personally inspected the kitchens and front courtyard, nodding in satisfaction.

She told the steward, “The Second Young Master is ill. Don’t let him come to the front yard—if he spreads his illness to any distinguished guests, we cannot afford the consequences.”

The steward paused, “Understood.”

“Today is Father’s birthday. It’s not reasonable for him to leave his room. Let him stay inside and pray for father’s longevity. Understood, Steward?” Meng Huahan, who had quietly appeared, clung to Zhou shi’s arm. “Mother, today will surely be entertaining.”

She wore a soft goose-yellow dress, with a touch of powder and rouge—charming and delicate like a fledgling oriole nestling by her mother’s side. Yet, in her eyes flickered cruel, venomous glints, as if a poisonous snake had possessed a sweet songbird.

“Don’t go overboard. Today is an important occasion to present your elder brother,” Zhou shi reminded her.

“Rest assured.”

Sounds of music and opera drifted intermittently into a secluded courtyard at the rear right side of the Meng residence. Meng Zhou stretched lazily in bed, cheeks flushed, half his face buried in the quilt, his round, bright eyes darting around.

Dali Temple had recently begun reviewing case files, with stacks of documents pouring in from across the country. A group of people worked tirelessly to check formats and determine if verdicts complied with regulations. It was exhausting work. On top of that, Meng Zhou still had to make time to investigate the gambling house. He hadn’t had a moment to rest.

Each day, he either trailed Boss Huang or disguised himself to stake out the casino, discovering a close link between them and a certain pawnshop. When gamblers lost everything, the casino offered them a “loan to turn things around”—but most of the money was never returned. So the casino forced the gamblers to take out their heirlooms and other treasures and pawn them at the designated pawnshop.

Boss Huang had a lover in a brothel who wore a jade hairpin on her head that was not suitable for her status. Half of the hairpin was shaped like a lotus flower that was slanted open and was round and small.

Meng Zhou rolled over, lifted the floorboard under his bed, and retrieved a matching hairpin. Under the sunlight, it was translucent and delicate—exactly the other half of the hairpin. He hadn’t guessed wrong. The ones who tricked Jiang Yao and Jiang Xin… were indeed the same group. Who hated the Jiang family so much?

“Mother is sorry. I have nothing left to give you—this hairpin will be for your bride in the future…”

Meng Zhou flipped over again. He would retrieve the hairpin, but marriage? That wouldn’t go as Jiang Yao had hoped.

He couldn’t ruin a girl’s future.

Outside, the noise grew louder. Meng Zhou rolled around a few more times before jumping out of bed. Today was a rest day—might as well visit the brothel. He touched his face. He wondered if Mr. Huang would like his looks.

Meng Fushan’s birthday, and he’d go to a brothel—delightfully scandalous.

Just as Meng Zhou stepped out, he was blocked. “Second Young Master, the Madam instructed that you remain in bed and recuperate. There are many distinguished guests in the front yard, you can’t…”

“Do I look sick to you?” Meng Zhou sneered. He wouldn’t go if begged—“Out of my way, I’m going out.”

“Madam said, today is the Master’s birthday. You must stay home.”

Now Meng Zhou was intrigued. Not allowed to meet guests, not allowed to go out—definitely suspicious. Madam Zhou certainly thought highly of him, sending five or six elite guards to watch him.

He guessed that today, Meng Huaidao was to shine, and Madam Zhou feared he might disrupt things. Meng Zhou had no particular interest in Meng Huaidao—according to his nursemaid, Meng Huaidao acted like he didn’t even exist. No feud, no grudge.

Meng Qi went back to his room to practice calligraphy. The longer he stayed in this place of ghosts, the more he realized that every extra skill was another escape route.

Like that night in the bridal chamber with Chu Huaiyin… cough cough.

Meng Zhou lowered his eyes. He picked up a brush in each hand—alternating strokes. On the pale yellow xuan paper, two distinct styles of handwriting interlaced side by side.

Front courtyard of the Meng residence.

Granddaughter of the old Duke, niece of the Empress, legitimate daughter of Prime Minister Yan Xiang, second daughter of the Vice Minister of War… Zhou shi scanned these glittering noble ladies like she was picking cabbages, weighing which was most suitable for Meng Huaidao.

The banquet was gender-segregated. Meng Huahan followed beside Madam Zhou, though her thoughts drifted to the men’s side.

At first sight of Chu Huaiyin, she was awestruck—fell in love with him secretly. A girl raised in the capital, naturally infatuated with the war gods of storybooks. Now in person, he was even more handsome and intelligent than rumored.

Zhou shi had never taught her restraint, and Meng Huahan never learned it. Her eyes stared openly at Chu Huaiyin. The noble ladies nearby stifled laughter—after all, she was raised by a merchant’s wife, with no class to speak of. Though nearly all the girls present secretly longed to marry into Prince Huai’s household, it didn’t stop them from mocking Meng Huahan’s infatuation.

“Mother,” Meng Huahan tugged at Zhou shi’s sleeve, her cheeks flushed and gaze lowered.

But Zhou shi had her own calculations. With Prince Huai and the Second Prince vying for the throne, the outcome was uncertain. Meng Fu was good at learning from the saints to protect himself and not take sides. When it came to the younger generation, marriage naturally could not be sloppy.

Principal wife to Prince Huai, side consort to the Second Prince… Zhou weighed the pros and cons in her mind, ultimately suppressing her desire. She was so hesitant that it seemed as if as soon as she opened her mouth, the two most noble princes of the Wei Dynasty would immediately ask for marriage.

Meng Huahan saw Zhou shi shake her head. She, who always got what she wanted, stomped her foot in protest. By the time the succession was decided, Chu Huaiyin would already be taken.

In her eyes, Chu Huaiyin would surely use his principal wife’s position to win over a powerful official’s support. As long as his father agreed…

She glanced over the noble ladies, all smiling demurely—useless! Even if they liked Chu Huaiyin, they didn’t dare look directly at him. How could they possibly compete with her?

Seeing that Meng Huaihan seemed to have forgotten her business, the maid whispered something in her ear.

Meng Huahan’s lips curved. “She’s here? Let’s go see.”

Avoiding the crowd, she stood at the path leading to the back gate and waited. Soon, someone led over a pale-faced maid. The girl’s manner was frivolous, her timid expression carrying the sly licentiousness of a brothel girl. Her beauty faded, her illness visible—definitely not a maid from the Meng household.

Meng Huahan stepped back, covering her nose with a handkerchief. “Stay away from me.”

The girl retreated. Meng Huahan continued, “I’ll take you there now. Do you understand what you must do? As long as Meng Zhou touches you, and someone sees it, with my father’s sense of propriety, you’ll have no choice but to be the Meng family’s second young madam. That’s a thousand times better than withering in a brothel, diseased and discarded.”

The woman was touched in a sore spot by Meng Huaihan, and her face turned pale. The aging of her appearance was a huge blow to any woman who sold her face for a living, not to mention that she had contracted that unclean disease. Everyone avoided her as much as possible.

Seeing the girl’s hesitant resolve turn firm, Meng Huahan smiled with contempt. People with no way out were the easiest to tempt. She wanted to see—on her father’s birthday, if Meng Zhou cavorted with a diseased brothel girl instead of greeting guests, what kind of lady would still marry him?

“Han’er, what are you doing?”

Meng Huahan froze, her mind blank for a moment before she recognized the voice—it was her brother.

She fussed with her hair, voice soft and coy, “Brother, why are you here?”

“Han’er, you’re an unmarried girl—where did you learn this kind of thing? If outsiders knew about it, you… they would suspect you…”” Meng Huaidao had only come out for air. He wasn’t used to the capital’s social games. At the banquet, nearly everyone outranked him. Madam Zhou kept urging him to network. It felt like he was back in the old days.

“Send her back,” Meng Huaidao sighed. No matter what, they were Mengs—any scandal would bring shame.

“I won’t.”

“Han’er, be obedient.”

“I’m doing this for you! Think about Mother—how much has she suffered? You work so hard outside, barely home twice a year. You don’t know how much we’ve been bullied. Father avoids favoritism and won’t promote you. But Meng Zhou? He used a trick to force mother to take out the imperial edict, and the next day, he was appointed as Chief Reviewer of Dali Temple—barely grown, already overshadowing you. Look at those guests outside, how many of them still think that Meng Zhou is the legitimate son of the Meng family?!”

That edict was originally for Jiang Yao. After her death, Madam Zhou hid it, refusing to give it to Meng Zhou. He had to scheme to get it.

But now, Meng Huahan made it sound like a terrible injustice.

Meng Huaidao remained unmoved. Meng Huahan’s eyes spun. She suddenly said, “Brother, did you know that Sister Lin came today with Madam Lin?”

Seeing her brother’s attention shift, she felt pleased. “I know you like Sister Lin, and she feels the same. But Madam Lin was close to Jiang Yao, and today when Mother tested the waters, it sounded like she preferred Meng Zhou as a son-in-law. Who knows, there might be rumors of an arranged marriage tomorrow. What will you do then, brother? What will Sister Lin do? Can you bear to see her marry Meng Qi? You see each other every day, calling each other brother and sister?”

Every word pierced Meng Huaidao’s heart.

His expression changed drastically. He stepped back, his mouth opening and closing. “Shuang’er—no, does Miss Lin really… also…”

“Yes,” Meng Huahan affirmed. In truth, like Madam Zhou, she despised anything related to Jiang Yao. She hadn’t spoken a word to Miss Lin and had no idea what the girl actually thought.

Meng Huaidao stood frozen, torn inside. As Meng Huahan brushed past him, he reached out weakly.

“Hmm? Brother?”

He hesitated, then raised his hand to block the harsh midday sun. He slowly closed his eyes and let his sister take the girl to ruin his younger brother.

He remembered when he first came to the capital with Zhou shi, only three years old. Jiang Yao was still the Meng family’s main wife. By day, Zhou shi made him respectfully call Jiang Yao “Madam.” By night, she pinched his arms and cried that he wasn’t pleasing enough to win Meng Fushan’s affection.

A child didn’t understand grown-up conflicts. He only knew that Jiang Yao gave him the best candy. The sunlight on her robes was warmer than anything from Madam Zhou. Jiang Yao even let him touch her pregnant belly, saying that once the general returned victorious, she would leave, and the baby wouldn’t fight him for anything. She smiled and asked if he would still hate his little brother.

What had he answered back then?

Meng Huaidao blinked. His eyes were dry.

He said, “I will protect my little brother.”

The voice of a child, crisp and resolute.