"You will never get pregnant with my child."
When Lu Heng, the prince of the Marquis of Jingan, fed me the Juezi medicine, his eyes were as gentle as water.
I drank obediently for two years until I found a love letter written to my cousin in his study:
"As soon as the hen that doesn't lay eggs gets out of here, I'll marry you."
I tore up the marriage contract in front of everyone and threw out the dregs of Juezi medicine: "Divorce! Immediately!"
The whole capital laughed at me: "Who else wants an abandoned woman who can't have children?"
I then turned around and married Lu Heng's nemesis—the cold-faced general with a heavy army.
On our wedding night, he caressed my belly: "Our child will be conceived here."
A month later, the Imperial Medical Office confirmed the diagnosis: twins, two months old.
The Hou Mansion exploded.
My mother-in-law knelt in front of my hospital: "Daughter-in-law, that bitch was the one who drugged me back then!"
My cousin bumped into the wall with her fake pregnant belly: "Sister, I'll give you my wife's title back!"
When Lu Heng burst into the delivery room with red eyes, the general was holding my hand:
"Ma'am, take a deep breath. Your husband is here. The children can't wait to see their parents."
