The Prime Minister Claims She's Pregnant - Chapter 36

The auspicious mistress, feeling she was getting in the way, urged the two of them to drink the cross-cupped wine.

Inside and outside the bridal chamber, the atmosphere was festive. Those who had come to “disturb the room” had finally dispersed, and the distant clamor of the outer banquet could still be heard. Once the mistress withdrew, the two sat perfectly upright. Ming Yi, in particular, stared straight ahead, her hands tucked into her sleeves, feeling as though she couldn’t catch her breath.

Gu Jinse tilted her head and leaned against Ming Yi’s shoulder, her face flushed. She had delivered herself right to the door; Ming Yi took a deep breath, not daring to look at the person beside her. The smile on Gu Jinse’s lips deepened. “Your little brothers were looking for revenge on me.”

She suddenly found them quite cute; at least they hadn’t caused a real scene, unlike the malicious antics of the General Weiyuan’s Manor.

Ming Yi’s throat tightened, but she didn’t answer. Gu Jinse took her hand, tracing the skin between her thumb and forefinger through the fabric of her sleeve. “They’re actually quite sweet.”

Ming Yi trembled slightly and turned her face away. Gu Jinse didn’t move. “They’re sweet, aren’t they?”

“They are… somewhat sweet,” Ming Yi said, her eyelids fluttering.

Gu Jinse turned around to look directly at Ming Yi’s trembling eyelashes. “They’re moving. You’re nervous. Last time, you weren’t nervous at all.”

At those words, Ming Yi pushed her away and swept her gaze across the room. “Let’s sign the agreement.”

Gu Jinse gave a start, but Ming Yi had already walked to the dressing table. She opened a jewelry box and pulled out a sheet of paper covered in ink. The bridal chamber was filled with lanterns, making it as bright as day and highlighting Gu Jinse’s peach-blossom complexion. When the agreement was placed before her, her head was still a bit dizzy.

She didn’t move; her legs felt weak as the alcohol surged, and she instinctively supported her forehead. Ming Yi took her hand—the same way she had forced her to sign that guarantee last time.

Gu Jinse struggled weakly, but Ming Yi held on tighter, looking at her with a shimmering smile. “What are you afraid of?”

“Why would I be afraid? You’re the one who’s afraid!” Provoked into a burst of courage, Gu Jinse puffed out her chest, took the agreement, and pressed her thumbprint onto it without even looking at the contents.

Once finished, she tried to read the document, but Ming Yi quickly snatched it away. When she protested, Ming Yi looked at her coolly. “Even if you are dissatisfied, you pressed the print yourself.”

“Hmm?” Gu Jinse let out a hum of annoyance and reached out to grab it, but Ming Yi dodged away. Gu Jinse chased her to the dressing table, catching her by the wrist and gazing at her. “Tell me… do you like me?”

“I don’t,” Ming Yi refused directly.

Flushed with indignation, Gu Jinse pressed closer, forcing Ming Yi against the dressing table. Gu Jinse reached out and removed her phoenix crown; her hot breath fanned across Ming Yi’s face, making Ming Yi’s heart quiver. As her long hair cascaded down, Ming Yi’s heart skipped a beat. Gu Jinse, looking immensely pleased, stared at her. “Tonight, you aren’t escaping.”

She sounded a bit arrogant, even domineering. Ming Yi gave a faint smile. “Is that so?”

She didn’t believe it.

The skeptical tone stung Gu Jinse’s pride. Taking a deep breath, she kissed the corner of Ming Yi’s slightly parted lips. Ming Yi tried to retreat, but behind her was only the dressing table. Her hands pressed against the smooth bronze mirror, her palms barely able to find purchase.

After a long kiss, Gu Jinse let go reluctantly, her eyes slightly bloodshot with emotion. “Let’s sleep.”

Ming Yi closed her eyes and refused. “We sleep separately.”

Gu Jinse’s eyes widened. She stroked Ming Yi’s face, her fingertip lingering on the bridge of her nose. A shallow curve rose on her lips. “I refuse.”

The dragon-and-phoenix candles in the room burned brightly, the wax dripping steadily. Their shadows overlapped on the wall as if they were in a deep embrace. Ming Yi stared directly into her eyes and slowly brushed her hand away, the light in her gaze suddenly igniting. Gu Jinse kissed her again immediately.

Ming Yi struggled, but her hands were gripped tightly by Gu Jinse. When their tongues met, a heat like a wildfire was lit throughout Ming Yi’s body.

“Sleep,” Gu Jinse repeated, leaning against Ming Yi’s ear.

Ming Yi’s breath was scorching, her chest heaving. She looked at Gu Jinse blankly. “You are so childish.”

“Is sleeping childish?” Gu Jinse was dissatisfied. The turbulence in her eyes was unstable; the desire hidden beneath the surface was beginning to stir, and she was heading toward a loss of reason.

Ming Yi averted her gaze, remaining silent. The sounds from outside slowly faded until the bridal chamber was perfectly quiet. Their heartbeats seemed to collide.

After a long stalemate, Gu Jinse’s face grew even redder. Her vermillion lips moved; tonight, she felt exceptionally impulsive. It was the alcohol at work.

Ming Yi decided those princes weren’t cute at all—they had clearly come to cause trouble. She took a deep breath and slowly reached out to stroke Gu Jinse’s forehead. “Be good. Go to sleep.”

Gu Jinse obediently let Ming Yi lead her to the bedside by the hand. Before she could say anything, Ming Yi’s hand reached for her waist. In an instant, it felt as though her body was being consumed by fire.

Her heart rate accelerated. Gu Jinse stared at her, her feelings laid bare. Ming Yi first untied her sash and removed her outer robe, revealing the red inner garment beneath. It seemed Gu Jinse’s clothes today were red from the inside out.

Gu Jinse had a good upbringing; since arriving in the capital, she had remained passionate but hadn’t delved into the dark side of social circles, staying within her own space without losing herself.

The inner shirt was red, and even her trousers were red. Ming Yi smiled, looking as if she wanted to say something but held back. Gu Jinse happened to look up, her face turning red with embarrassment. “What are you laughing at?”

“You are very… red today,” Ming Yi chuckled.

Only then did Gu Jinse look down at her clothes. She promptly pretended nothing was wrong—wasn’t it natural to wear red on a wedding day? Ignoring the teasing, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss Ming Yi’s cheek.

This was the fourth time tonight. Ming Yi’s emotional fluctuations had lessened; instead, she reached out to stroke Gu Jinse’s back. “How much did you drink?”

Gu Jinse tried to remember. Just a few cups? No, more like a dozen. But her mind felt perfectly clear.

After another kiss, Gu Jinse reached out to help Ming Yi undress. Ming Yi took two steps back. “I’m going to bathe.”

“Then… I’ll wait for you.” Gu Jinse climbed onto the bed first and lay on her back, her small face glowing pink.

Ming Yi walked away quickly, so flustered she forgot to even tuck in the corners of the quilt.

The bathroom was right next door, prepared with hot water. Ming Yi stepped inside. Amidst the swirling steam, her mind felt muddled. She had actually gotten married just like this. Her mother had said she met the wrong person; what about herself?

Sinking into the water, Ming Yi’s thoughts remained chaotic. The hot water enveloped her skin, but it seemed to cool the heat in her heart instead. Leaning against the tub, she thought continuously about the road ahead.

The person on the bed waited for a long time, drifting into sleep. Chun Yue brought in some sobering soup and fed it to her. In her daze, Gu Jinse caught the maid’s hand. “Go check… see if she fell in the water. She’s been gone so long.”

After mumbling her complaint, she fell asleep. Ming Yi happened to walk in just in time to hear that last sentence—that nasal, dissatisfied mumble: …gone so long.

That phrase felt familiar.

She remembered years ago when Madam Gu brought Gu Jinse to the palace for the late Empress Dowager’s birthday. Gu Jinse was still small then, being carried by her wet nurse and looking half-asleep. Once set on the ground, she had bolted away, fearing the nurse would catch her.

As she ran, she happened to witness Ming Yi “committing a crime”—she was beating the Crown Prince. The Prince was face-down on the ground crying. Gu Jinse had frozen, tilting her head to look at her, then at the boy on the ground. She then scraped her finger against her own cheek, mocking the Prince: “Crying, crying, shameful!”

After her mockery, she kept running. The Prince stopped crying immediately. Ming Yi had let go of the Prince to chase down this “witness.”

She had abducted the child to a dark corner, placed a stick in the tiny palm, and threatened: “You are not allowed to tell!”

Perhaps because she was too small, Gu Jinse didn’t understand the meaning. Instead, she gripped the stick and mimicked her voice: “Not ‘lowed, not ‘lowed to tell!” Her pronunciation was off; a two-year-old child understood nothing.

Sighing, Ming Yi had let her go. But once released, the child had instead used the stick to hit her. “Not ‘lowed to tell! Not ‘lowed to tell!”

“Oh dear, how can you hit people!” The wet nurse had come rushing over in a panic, snatching away the stick while apologizing profusely. Gu Jinse had grinned, hugging the nurse and saying in a soft, sweet voice: “Been gone so long!” The nurse had then hurriedly carried her away.

Later, the Elder Gu left the capital, and the whole family moved.

Ming Yi lay down on the bed. The dragon-and-phoenix candles burned steadily. Gu Jinse was curled up on the inner side, her long hair revealing the snowy skin of her neck. Ming Yi instinctively reached out to touch it; the skin was soft and smooth.

When Chun Yue came in, Ming Yi said one thing: “Look, it was your young lady who fell asleep first. You must testify to that when she wakes up tomorrow.”

Chun Yue was confused. Did something happen?

On the wedding night, Gu Jinse slept soundly. The Gu Manor remained busy until dawn, where the Yu siblings talked through the night.

When Uncle Yu heard that at age eight, Gu Jinhuan had pushed his own sister into the river and framed someone else, his heart went cold. What does an eight-year-old understand? He blamed his sister: “It was because you didn’t teach him well.”

“You know his grandfather took him away after he turned two. How could I teach him?” Madam Gu sighed, her face pale. “Over the years, I urged Gu Zhi to take concubines, but he refused. The matter with the songstress, it was his mistake, but he chose to provoke A-Se. You know A-Se has an impulsive streak. However, I want her to leave the Gu family.”

The image of her daughter being pulled half-dead from the icy water years ago rose before Madam Gu’s eyes. She had struggled for years to reach today’s outcome. “I never liked this marriage back then. You all said the Gu family had a good reputation, and it’s true, they don’t take concubines. But do you know…”

Madam Gu stopped abruptly, the words sticking in her throat as if she had swallowed a fly. “Do you know how that incident was kept quiet back then?”

“It was buried under a dozen lives, bought by the sacrifice of Gu Jinshang’s mind. Do you know that his grandfather drugged Gu Jinshang, turning a vibrant girl into a fool?”

“Gu Jinshang? You mean your foster daughter?” Uncle Yu’s mind went hazy. He remembered the little girl who used to follow his sister around, calling her ‘Sister’ at every turn, lively and adorable.

Madam Gu was already streaming tears. “I told Gu Zhi that I could persuade A-Shang. He didn’t believe me. He insisted A-Shang had harmed A-Se, that she pushed her into the water out of jealousy. I said even if she did push her, a few strokes of the board would suffice, or at worst, send her to the manor in the countryside. But what they did… they did it to seal her mouth forever.”

“Say no more. Get the divorce,” Uncle Yu said, covering his eyes. “I’ll gather our second and third brothers and go to Yuhang to handle it. Don’t tell A-Se any of this. It’s too filthy, and she is a clean, upright soul.”

Madam Gu was assisted to her room to rest. Uncle Yu sat alone, drinking through the night. When dawn broke, he had to be carried to bed.

When Gu Jinse woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. Ming Yi had been awake for a long time, sitting by the window embroidering mandarins.

Or rather, embroidering chickens.

The summer heat was beginning to rise. Gu Jinse walked over barefoot, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Seeing a pair of “chickens” pecking at rice on the fabric, she asked curiously, “Why are you embroidering little chicks?”

Ming Yi’s hand paused. Without changing her expression, she said, “Mandarin ducks.”

Gu Jinse blinked her big, bright eyes, leaning in for a closer look. “Chancellor Ming, are you actually a refined lady of a noble house?”

“I am not,” Ming Yi replied instantly. “But my mother was. She said a woman needn’t be an expert in such arts; if someone truly likes you, even if you embroider a chicken, they will happily call it a mandarin duck.”

Gu Jinse, feeling the subtle jab, shuddered and quickly corrected herself: “These mandarin ducks are actually quite lovely.”

Ming Yi smiled, her eyes curving like crescents. “They are for you.”

“Can I decline?” Gu Jinse’s heart screamed no.

Ming Yi’s face went cold in an instant—she changed moods like the weather. “You cannot. The agreement says you cannot say no.”

“Agreement?” Gu Jinse’s head felt fuzzy. She had been plied with wine by those four princes last night, rescued by her uncle, and brought back to the bridal chamber. She remembered kissing Ming Yi, but she didn’t recall any agreement.

As she tried to piece her memory together, Ming Yi held the paper right in front of her.

Agreement Article 1: Except for matters of principle, Party B may not say no to Party A.

Party A was Ming Yi; Party B was Gu Jinse.

Gu Jinse scanned down and saw her own thumbprint. She grew indignant. “You took advantage of my drunkenness last night to trick me!”

“Think what you like. I only care about the result, and the result is that you signed it. Accepting a scented sachet is not a ‘matter of principle.'” Ming Yi arched an eyebrow.

“Ming Yi, you really are wicked.” Gu Jinse was annoyed, but her patience for this woman won out. She kept reading.

Agreement Article 2: Party B may have other female friends.

This one made Gu Jinse angry. “You only wrote such a ‘magnanimous’ clause because you don’t love me! But let me tell you, you are not allowed to have other female friends.”

Ming Yi gave a faint smile and returned to the window to continue her “mandarin ducks.”

Agreement Article 3: If Party A leaves the capital, half of Party A’s estate goes to Party B, and vice versa.

Gu Jinse was reeling. “We are supposed to be equal! Last night you rejected me!”

The sunlight filtered through the window, dappling the embroidery. Ming Yi’s hand brushed over the colorful threads, as if her simple life was beginning to turn vibrant. “When I came back last night, you were already asleep. If you don’t believe me, ask Chun Yue.”

Chun Yue, standing by the door, stepped in. “Miss, it was indeed you who fell asleep on your own.”

“Get out!” Gu Jinse snapped, clearly displeased.

“Official Gu, ‘the city gate catching fire and the fish in the moat suffering’ is a bad habit. You should change it,” Ming Yi offered a friendly reminder.

Gu Jinse couldn’t take it anymore. She handed the paper back to Ming Yi. “I don’t want to talk to you. I can’t win against you. I’m disappointed. I’m not even angry; I’m just very disappointed.”

Ming Yi looked up, opening her mouth as if to say something, but Gu Jinse ignored her and called Chun Yue to help her dress.

After a quick wash, she went to the main hall to pay her respects and serve tea to Madam Gu.

Only upon arriving did she learn that Madam Gu had cried all night and Uncle Yu had been drinking until dawn; both were currently asleep.

Gu Jinse was at a loss. Ming Yi, who had followed her, calmly smoothed a wrinkle on her sleeve and teased, “Gu Jinse, if your mother gets a divorce, what will you do?”

It was like the classic modern question for a child of divorce: Whom will you live with, your dad or your mom?

Gu Jinse frowned. “I’ll stay with you, how about that?”

“According to the laws of this dynasty, if parents divorce, the children must remain with the father’s house. There is no rule allowing them to leave with the mother.” Ming Yi didn’t look up, her gaze fixed on the dark patterns of her sleeve.

Gu Jinse sighed. She had been fuming since she woke up, and the culprit was still standing there gloating. She looked at Ming Yi. “You’ve changed. You’ve gone from a blank sheet of white paper to a sheet of chaotic, multicolored paper.”

The “flower on the high ridge” had fallen into the mud and was no longer so elegant.

Ming Yi looked up, met Gu Jinse’s clear eyes, and smiled thinly. “It is not my concern, so why should I worry?”

Gu Jinse glared at her, her retort dying in her throat as tears began to fall. Her parents were divorcing, and as their daughter, she could do nothing.

Ming Yi’s heart softened for a rare moment. She took Gu Jinse’s hand, dismissed the attendants, and led the weeping girl back. “Madam Gu has endured for your sake all these years. I shouldn’t meddle in the Gu family’s affairs, but you know your mother’s temperament better than anyone.”

Gu Jinse brushed her hand away, her heart heavy. Ming Yi looked at her. “Want to scold me?”

“No.” Gu Jinse rubbed her red eyes and shot her a glare. “I… I’m just scared.”

She was scared of being alone. She knew Ming Yi was calculating against her, but she had accepted it because she always felt she had her mother as a fallback. Now, that safety net was vanishing. She had been used to Madam Gu’s protection for years.

Ming Yi said nothing, walking slowly and waiting for Gu Jinse to process her emotions.

By the time they returned to the bedroom, lunch was already laid out. Gu Jinse sat to the side with no appetite, while Ming Yi sat down and began eating as if nothing had happened—not just rice, but fish and meat as well.

Gu Jinse was stunned by her lack of empathy. “Aren’t you going to comfort me at all?”

“I calculate against you at every turn. Would you even listen to my comfort?” Ming Yi placed a piece of chicken in her bowl without looking up. “You don’t think I’m someone you can rely on, so why should I bother comforting you?”

A crack appeared in Gu Jinse’s composure. She gritted her teeth. “You think you’re being very reasonable, don’t you?”

“I’m not being reasonable, but seeing you cry has suddenly made my own heart feel more balanced.” Ming Yi took a bite of chicken and chewed slowly. Gu Jinse stared at her intently. “I’m angry now.”

Recalling a cute meme, Gu Jinse put her hands on her hips. “I’m very angry! The kind that can’t be fixed with coaxing!”

“Then I won’t coax you.” Ming Yi set down her chopsticks and wiped her lips with a damp cloth. “If I know coaxing won’t work, there’s no point in doing it. Just as you know Madam Gu is set on the divorce, so you shouldn’t try to persuade her to endure anymore.”

“Ming Yi, why is your heart so hard? Can’t you be a little softer with me?” Gu Jinse slapped the table.

Ming Yi picked up her chopsticks again, selected a piece of fish, and meticulously removed the bones before placing it in Gu Jinse’s bowl. “I’ve lived for twenty-seven years, and this is the first time I’ve de-boned fish for someone.”

Gu Jinse: “…”

“Fine, I’m not angry anymore. Tell me, how should we solve this?” Gu Jinse gave herself an out. “Chancellor Ming, you are so capable, do you have a way?” Her instinct for survival finally led her to rely on the “omnipotent” Chancellor.

Ming Yi looked at the person who had just undergone a massive personality shift and sneered, “Where is your backbone?”

“I’m about to become a child nobody wants. What do I need backbone for?” Gu Jinse waved her hand dismissively. As for backbone, she felt she could take it or leave it. She wasn’t a literary scholar; she didn’t care about the dignity of “not bowing for five pecks of rice.”

Ming Yi sighed softly. “Official Gu, you are the most shameless girl I have ever met.”