The Prime Minister is Pregnant with Dragon's Seed - Chapter 9

Chu Huaiyin was desperate to uncover the identity of this so-called Murakami. There was something inexplicably familiar about the person. But the moment he tried using qinggong, his qi grew unstable. A strange heat surged up from the soles of his feet, igniting an intense heat in a particular part of his body. Chu Huaiyin immediately realized he’d been drugged. However, with years of martial training he had extraordinary willpower. He could use his power to suppress the effects so long as he didn’t circulate his inner energy. 

That balance shattered the moment he heard someone cry for help, kicked open the door, and saw Meng Huaihan collapsed on the floor. That pungent, unpleasant incense hit him again, and Chu Huaiyin’s breathing immediately grew heavy.

Meng Huaihan, delirious, clung to him like he was her last lifeline.

The overwhelming scent assaulted his senses. If Chu Huaiyin couldn’t figure out something was off by now, he would’ve died on the battlefield long ago.

He kicked away the babbling, half-crazed Meng Huaihan, veins bulging at his forehead—but then his eyes became clear.

Should he call her stupid or clever? If it had been someone else—say, the Second Prince—he might’ve spent a spring night with her and walked away with a beautiful wife and the full support of the influential Left Prime Minister.

Maybe there were people in the world who could make Chu Huaiyin lose control. But Meng Huaihan was absolutely not one of them.

Meng Huaihan was unwilling to believe Chu Huaiyin could stay clear-headed so close to her, she gritted her teeth and boldly leaned in, rubbing her soft chest against him while whimpering.

Chua Huaiyin didn’t even let her touch the hem of his robe. With a swift movement, he dodged and kicked the door shut. Caught off guard, Meng Huaihan crashed into it and slumped to the floor. As the drug took full effect, she pressed herself against the door, releasing sticky, muffled moans.

Ji Yang appeared right on time. “My lord, should I summon Doctor Wang?”

“I’m going to find Meng Zhou and have Doctor Wang meet him there.” Chu Huaiyin’s expression darkened ominously. Meng Zhiu had eaten more than he had. Who knew what state he was in now.

A shifty-looking man peered around the back gate, curiosity and sleaze all over his face when he heard the sound of a woman panting.

“My lord, that…” Ji Yang motioned toward the door.

“Ignore it.”

“Yes, sir.” Ji Yang lowered his head, fully understanding that his master was furious. Chu Huaiyin had always ruled his men with strict discipline. He had zero tolerance for soldiers who visited brothels or harassed proper women. Military orders were as heavy as a mountain, and those who violated them would be punished with fifty lashes at the least, or even beheaded at the worst.

Meng Zhou sat awkwardly in a chair, cheeks flushed, breathing heavily. Someone knocked at the door from outside.

“Young Master, Master sent me to bring you longevity peaches.”

Meng Zhou’s disguise skills were exceptional, and his sensitivity to voices was unusually sharp. This maid sounded very familiar—but definitely not from the Meng estate.

He knew he had been tricked by Meng Huaihan and was now extremely annoyed. He dragged his weak body to the door to peek through the crack.

Just as he suspected.

He had seen this woman while tailing Boss Huang at a brothel a few days ago. He’d nearly been caught that time and had ducked into a room in a panic, only to overhear the madam scolding this girl for being used goods. She hadn’t earned her keep and had caught some illness—no customer dared to touch her.

“Young Master, please open the door.” Hearing no response, the woman began pushing against it.

Chu Huaiyin hadn’t locked it before leaving. Meng Zhou braced his body against the door, his whole form flushed, drenched in sweat, eyelashes and hair soaked as if from dew.

He didn’t even like women. But more importantly, in this era where medical level was low, touching this person would ruin his life.

Meng Huaihan was truly vicious.

Meng Zhou had never wanted to stoop to take any means to retaliate against Meng Huaihan. In the modern world, she’d have just been a minor girl. The real source of all this mess was Meng Fushan—too cruel to his lovers, too heartless to his children. So Meng Zhou had targeted him instead. Was that wrong?

The door rattled with loud bangs. If the woman hadn’t been sickly and thin, Meng Zhou wouldn’t have been able to hold her off in his current state.

“H-How much did Meng Huaihan pay you? I’ll d-double it…” Meng Zhou clawed at the ground, nearly prying up a tile with his bare fingers.

The woman paused a beat, but remembering Meng Huaihan’s threat, her tone grew more urgent. “Young Master, I won’t hurt you!”

Meng Zhou cursed inwardly at the shamelessness. If Meng Zhou hadn’t seen her at the brothel, maybe he’d have believed her.

His strength drained faster and faster. With every breath, he felt his strength fading. Forget dealing with an adult woman—he could barely keep himself conscious.

He was so speechless that he could hardly speak. The woman moved with force but still tried not to make noise, so their silent struggle didn’t alert anyone outside the courtyard.

His once-straight spine began to slump. He couldn’t hold the door anymore. The gap became bigger and bigger, and he was on the verge of defeat.

In a haze, he recalled what Chu Huaiyin had said before leaving: “I’ll be right back.”

Would he really return?

He couldn’t give up. He had to at least try to make some noise, in case Chu Huaiyin wasn’t far. Although Meng Zhou was not sure how far Chu Huaiyin had gone and whether the shadow guards had followed him.

Meng Zhou finally gave up blocking the door. Bracing himself on the ground, he shifted a few inches and hooked his leg around a flower vase stand. The rotted wooden frame wobbled in a circle, and—crack!—the vase hit the floor.

Almost at the same time, there was a shout, the door was kicked open, and Meng Zhou’s hand instinctively gripped the dagger in his boot.

The next moment, he was lifted easily into strong arms. The man’s hold was steady, his shoulders broad, radiating heat.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Chu Huaiyin had come back.

Doctor Wang had been dragged from his home by Ji Yang and now stood glaring, beard bristling in anger. Chu Huaiyin laid Meng Zhou on the bed and used cold towels to cool him down.

After taking his pulse, Doctor Wang frowned. “This is a potent drug. It can only be eased, not suppressed.”

He glanced at Chu Huaiyin, who looked gloomy. “In my humble opinion, Your Highness might also…”

Aphrodisiacs from the lower rungs of society were the most brutal and untreatable. Who knew what kind of people Meng Huaihan associated with.

Chu Huaiyin’s face turned black.

Ji Yang thoughtfully offered, “Shall I find a woman? no… two?”

When his master’s expression darkened further, Ji Yang suddenly understood. He grabbed the doctor and bolted.

The door shut. Silence fell, broken only by increasingly heavy breaths.

Meng Zhou’s breathing was quick, his almond eyes glassy with tears, his pale skin tinged with a rosy flush. His face looked like a ripened apple—one bite might be crisp and sweet, or soft and sticky.

Meng kitten exuded a different charm now. Chu Huaiyin’s gaze was fixed on him, unable to look away. He suddenly recalled their first meeting—Meng Zhou’s wedding robe half-slipped, red silk against snow, long hair in disarray.

He had been shocked then. But thinking back, Meng Zhou’s features and voice had etched themselves into his heart.

Fate was strange. It felt like they were back to that moment—but this time, Chu Huaiyin wasn’t just shocked.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, bl00d rushing upward. He almost couldn’t suppress his impulse.

Then Meng Zhou couldn’t hold back and let out a moan—one not the one deliberately let out like at the Wang residence, but real and helpless. It was innocent and seductive.

He could bear it no longer.

“Shall I get you a woman?” Chu Huaiyin’s voice was low and hoarse, but he didn’t move away from the bed at all.

Maybe it was the lingering sense of safety from being held by Chu Huaiyin in the critical time. Meng Zhou felt that his head must have been squeezed by the door, so he mumbled, “Why? You can’t do it?”

Please don’t go get a woman for him.

The god of war in the dreams of thousands of girls in the capital—if he slept with him, it was totally worth it.

“What… did you say?” Chu Huaiyin was afraid he’d misheard. He repeated each word slowly and clearly. His arms around Meng Zhou suddenly tightened, drawing a groan from him before letting go. Red marks remained on his skin, and his eyes grew misty.

Startled by Chu Huaiyin’s raised voice, Meng Zhou snapped back to clarity—then felt the brute strength circling him tighten. Though it was not justified, he still muttered defensively, “You fed it to me.”

Chu Huaiyin was being wronged here.

Thinking of how he had just fed Meng Zhou bite after bite… his breath caught.

“Don’t regret this.”

Regret, my ass.

Meng Zhou had never even dated anyone in two lifetimes. Whether it was the drug or Chu Huaiyin himself, he felt strangely excited. He rolled over and pinned Chu Huaiyin down.

His eyes sparkled as he stared at him. “I’ll make you feel good.”

Chu Huaiyin let him untie his belt, eyes dark and intense. Once Meng Zhou was nearly done, he grabbed Meng Zhou’s both paws with one hand.

His claws were sharp—not exactly bedroom-friendly.

Dali Temple had been busy lately, Meng Zhou hadn’t had time to trim them.

Chu Huaiyin shifted in an instant, flipping their positions. “Let this prince do it.”

A completely reasonable suggestion—irrefutable.

His body pressed close. Meng Zhou suddenly froze and returned to his senses. “Wait! Maybe we should try some other—”

Chu Huaiyin truly was… gifted.

“Isn’t it a little late to be saying that, hmm?” His last word was swallowed between their lips and tongue.

Meng kitten was mercilessly subdued and thoroughly kneaded—so he could only use his claws angrily to other uses.

Outside, Ji Yang waved for the shadow guards surrounding the courtyard to disperse. He grabbed a handful of melon seeds and quietly squatted on another tree to get some fresh air. He felt a little relieved like an old mother, but also a little sad.

They suffered through the army together, but he was the first to getmeat¹.