The Prime Minister Claims She's Pregnant - Chapter 18

Gu Jinse gave a cold snort and decided she wasn’t playing along. “There isn’t a part of you I haven’t touched already,” she countered.

The conversation came to a screeching halt.

Ming Yi picked up her soup, took a single sip, then set it down, stood up, and walked out without a word.

Gu Jinse huffed, but when she saw Ming Yi leave so decisively, she suddenly felt a wave of regret. Ming Yi was such a dignified and reserved person; could that day have been the most humiliating moment of her life?

Just because I was happy doesn’t mean she was, Gu Jinse thought ruefully.

The Prime Minister’s manor was tranquil. The maidservants were highly disciplined, walking soundlessly and following strict protocols, many of which were inherited from the imperial palace. Ming Yi rarely spoke to the servants. Since Gu Jinse’s arrival, they were forbidden from entering the inner rooms without specific orders, and some had even been dismissed from the main courtyard entirely.

When Gu Jinse first woke up, Ming Yi had cared for her personally without needing help. Now that Gu Jinse could walk and care for herself, there was even less need for attendants.

The maids didn’t dare enter. After Ming Yi left, Gu Jinse was left alone to sit in her regret for a long time.

The next day, Ming Yi arrived exactly on time, chatting and laughing as if nothing had happened the day before. She showed no trace of anger.

Today, the topic was the various Imperial Princes. The Emperor had five sons. The Crown Prince was the eldest, born to a palace maid who died in labor. The Emperor had personally carried the infant to the Central Palace. Though the Empress was unwilling, the Empress Dowager had ruled at the time that the child would be raised under the Empress’s name.

The Empress remained childless for many years. When she finally did conceive, she gave birth to a princess. Meanwhile, the Noble Consort and Consort De gave birth to the Second and Third Princes in quick succession.

Unable to have more children, the Empress eventually treated the Eldest Prince as her own. By then, he was already six or seven years old.

The Noble Consort’s family was the Zhao family, prominent nobles in the capital. Ming Yi remarked, “The Zhao family had two daughters. The eldest was married to the General of the Realm. Unfortunately, while the General was away at war, the Emperor seduced his wife.”

Gu Jinse was stunned. She recalled the Emperor’s refined, upright demeanor and the perpetual look of sickly weakness in his eyes. To think he had such habits! She said in disbelief, “But he’s in such poor health!”

Ming Yi chuckled softly. “His body may be weak, but his mind is quite active.”

The topic was becoming a bit too scandalous. Gu Jinse let out a low laugh and fell silent.

Ming Yi continued, “The eldest Zhao daughter had a brief, passionate affair with His Majesty. Later, when the General returned in triumph, she chose to take her own life. Overcome with guilt, the Emperor summoned the younger Zhao daughter to the palace—she is now Consort De.”

Gu Jinse was curious. “Does… does Consort De know?”

“Walls have ears; of course she knows.” Ming Yi’s voice was calm. She rested her chin on one hand, gazing at Gu Jinse. “Gu Jinse, if that Zhao woman were your elder sister, what would you do?”

“Me?” Gu Jinse was startled. “I would try to persuade her to turn back. But then again, faced with imperial authority, she was likely forced. The Emperor is a real dog.”

Ming Yi smiled, her eyes lingering on the girl’s features. This innocent girl possessed a kind of empathetic beauty.

She whispered, “I thought you would tell her to go die.”

The slanted sunlight fell upon Ming Yi’s dark, lustrous hair. She radiated nobility, and the sunlight seemed to disperse the lingering traces of bitterness around her.

Gu Jinse didn’t speak. She understood what Ming Yi meant; the world usually blamed the woman in such matters. It was like the modern world—if a woman dressed revealingly and men stared, people would scold the woman, saying, “You dressed like that just to be looked at.”

It was shameful.

“I have no right to tell her to die,” Gu Jinse lamented. She looked at Ming Yi, and a sudden thought struck her. “Was she… your mother?”

“You are very clever. She was indeed my mother.” Ming Yi didn’t deny it. Her eyes remained as deep as ever, her expression almost numb.

“I see. In that case, stay away from that Consort De. There’s no need to associate with such selfish people,” Gu Jinse said. She had no right to judge anyone; here, the Emperor’s word was law. Opposing him required immense power.

Ming Yi continued to watch her, her lips parting slightly as she asked, “Do you think I am… tainted?”

Tainted?

Gu Jinse was stunned. She looked up sharply, meeting Ming Yi’s profound gaze. She sucked in a breath and asked back, “How do you even define ‘tainted’?”

Gu Jinse didn’t understand the etymology of the word in this context or what it was supposed to imply about a person’s worth.

Ming Yi gave a cold, lonely smile. “I don’t really know myself.”

“My thoughts might be considered treasonous, but the Emperor has absolute power. Who dares to resist? If it were you, would you dare?” Gu Jinse asked Ming Yi. “If it were me, I wouldn’t, because I’d be killed. To be honest, I value my life very much. Did your mother want to die?”

Ming Yi remained silent.

“She didn’t want to die, so she had to comply with the Emperor. Is she at fault? Do I have the right to criticize her? If the Emperor were just an ordinary man, would he have succeeded?”

“When things go wrong, the world curses the woman for failing her virtue. But look at the man—at most, people call him ‘romantic.’ The woman is hounded to death while the man lives perfectly fine. Prime Minister, men use ‘rules’ to bind women. Just like you—you stand in the imperial court competing with men, and people likely say you’re ‘overstepping’ or ‘indecent’ for showing your face.”

“Who made the rules? Why were they made? And who do they bind?”

Without hesitation, Ming Yi replied, “Men made the rules for women to follow. It binds women and gives men pleasure, while women struggle from the moment they are born.”

Gu Jinse smiled. “Then do you still think she was tainted?”

“No,” Ming Yi breathed out slowly. She looked up, seeing the girl across from her glowing with an untainted, jade-like clarity.

Gu Jinse spoke again, her gossip-radar pinging. “Wait, so are you a Princess?”

“No. My biological father was the General of the Realm, who guarded the borders,” Ming Yi shook her head.

Gu Jinse was surprised. “The kind with command over a massive army?”

Ming Yi nodded.

“No wonder you’re so fearless. Honestly, being a princess isn’t as free as you are. The first two princesses were sent away for political marriages. When you think about it, isn’t your current life much better?” Gu Jinse comforted her, adding, “Don’t be insecure. You’re very capable—a truly promising young woman.”

Ming Yi: “…”

Ming Yi only smiled, though it was a smile tinged with a sense of weariness.

A short while later, Ming Yi left. Gu Jinse was alone again. Her head began to throb, and she forced herself to sleep. But the pain became piercing, making sleep impossible. She sat up in the middle of the night, and a maid went to fetch Chi Mei.

Chi Mei arrived huffing and puffing with her medical bag. She didn’t even need to check the pulse to know things were bad. Gu Jinse’s face was pale and matted with sweat from the pain.

Removing the gauze, the wound had scabbed over into a long, prominent scar that marred her beauty. Chi Mei handed her a vial. “Take one; it will ease the pain.”

“Is this Hanshi Powder?” Gu Jinse asked, surprised. Most ancient painkillers seemed to contain that addictive substance.

Chi Mei looked at her. “No, but it is addictive.”

“Then I won’t take it.” Gu Jinse lay back down.

Chi Mei put the medicine away but took her hand to check her pulse. “It’s better if you take one.”

Gu Jinse closed her eyes, ignoring her. Chi Mei, feeling helpless, sent someone to find Ming Yi.

Ming Yi hadn’t slept yet. She arrived carrying a lantern. Seeing the bright candlelight in the room from a distance, her heart sank, and she quickened her pace.

Ming Yi saw the medicine on the bedside table and Gu Jinse’s sweat-beaded forehead. She asked Chi Mei, “Will it always be like this?”

“Hard to say. It might heal over time, or it might not. I’ve never seen a case exactly like this. Head injuries are hard to diagnose. It was a blunt impact, not a cut. A violent collision can leave lasting effects. It’s a miracle her memory is intact. Prime Minister, it’s a blessing she’s even alive.” Chi Mei looked at Ming Yi. “Does your heart ache for her?”

The person on the bed suddenly snapped her eyes open. Ming Yi said, “If you can’t treat her, I will hire other doctors.”

“A doctor will know she’s a woman the moment they check her pulse,” Chi Mei reminded her.

“I will arrange it,” Ming Yi said. If Gu Jinse suffered like this daily, her career and her life would be in shambles. Constant pain could drive a person to self-harm.

Gu Jinse sat up, her eyes bright in the candlelight. She asked Ming Yi, “You aren’t asleep yet?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Let’s talk.” Ming Yi ordered some fruit and tea, moved a small table onto the bed, and the two sat facing each other.

Ming Yi held her tea, her gaze as gentle as water. “Let’s talk about the palace.”

“Palace drama?” Gu Jinse was suddenly interested. TV shows made it look so exciting.

Ming Yi laughed. “There isn’t actually that much ‘drama.’ The Empress Dowager kept a tight grip on the Emperor, and the Empress is her niece. No one dared provoke the Empress. The Emperor spent half of every month in her palace.”

Ming Yi spoke from experience, describing things in detail but without much emotional flair. Every story was tinged with danger and tension.

Ming Yi had a beautiful voice—initially cold, but as one listened and watched her calm, exquisite features, she was revealed as a deeply tender woman.

At twenty-seven, others thought her old, but Gu Jinse didn’t see it that way. In the modern world, twenty-seven was young—just entering society after grad school.

Old? She was in her prime.

Before long, Gu Jinse’s headache faded. She ate several pieces of fruit. Ming Yi spoke of the Empress Dowager: “She was a woman worthy of respect. Your grandfather said that a woman ruling was like a ‘hen crowing at dawn,’ but the moment he left, the Empress Dowager appointed a group of female officials. I heard your grandfather was so angry he coughed up blood.”

Gu Jinse looked blank. Ming Yi added, “You were too young then; you probably didn’t know.”

The Empress Dowager had left many talented people for the Emperor. The female officials in the court were no less capable than the men. The Emperor kept them precisely because of their ability.

By the middle of the night, Gu Jinse was nodding off. Ming Yi’s voice softened until the girl’s eyes finally stayed shut. Ming Yi rose, moved the table, helped her lie down, tucked her in, and blew out the candle before quietly slipping out.

Everything was becoming quite practiced.

The wedding preparations were overwhelming. Madam Gu had to manage both households and hadn’t appeared for several days.

Gu Jinse had stayed at the Prime Minister’s manor for over half a month when a letter arrived from Yuhang. After returning home, Gu Jinhuan had exaggerated the story, claiming she had coveted his position as a high-ranking scholar and had intentionally attacked him, disregarding their sibling bond.

Gu Jinse was dumbfounded. The villain sues first! If she just sat there, her family would scold her to death she might even be dragged back to Yuhang for corporate punishment.

She remembered something. Gu Jinhuan had been kicked back to Yuhang, but what about the songstress?

Logically, they should have been together, but the letter didn’t mention her at all. She tucked the letter under her teacup and asked the messenger, “What did my grandfather say?”

“The Master wishes for you to return to Yuhang,” the aide said.

Gu Jinse gave a cold laugh. She wouldn’t fall for it. Her grandfather favored sons over daughters; going back would lead to no good. She dropped a subtle reminder: “Does Grandfather not know that it was the Prime Minister who sent Gu Jinhuan back?”

“The Master knows. He simply wishes for you to return,” the aide repeated.

“I don’t have time. As you’ve likely heard, I was just promoted to Supervisor in the Ministry of Revenue. If I take leave and someone else takes my spot, who will be responsible?” Gu Jinse’s tone was distant. After a month with Ming Yi, she had picked up some of her poise. She wouldn’t let herself be rattled.

The aide, who moved between both parties and knew the secrets, realized Gu Jinse was not who she used to be. She had a powerful backer now. He said, “If you won’t return, that’s fine; just write a letter to the Master. But the Young Master cannot stay in Yuhang forever.”

“If he isn’t in Yuhang, is he coming here to marry me?”

A cold, unfamiliar voice cut in. The aide trembled. He didn’t need to guess who it was. He bowed hurriedly. “Greetings, Prime Minister.”