Sword Sect Little Demon Child, Three and a Half Years Old and Extremely Fierce

The elderly man at the head of the group spoke.

The voice seemed to be squeezed out from deep in the throat, with a condescending tone:

"Your Majesty, we have come to inquire whether the trade between the Demon Realm and the Cultivation Realm is proceeding too frequently?"

Fu Xiao remained silent.

He looked at Fu Yan.

Fu Yan spoke up: "Frequent? Three days a month is considered frequent?"

The old man glanced at him, his eyes conveying a sense of displeasure that told the younger generation not to interrupt.

However, his tone was still relatively polite, after all, Fu Yan was now the de facto ruler of the Demon Realm, and there was no benefit in offending him.

"Young Master, the cultivation world and our demon realm have been enemies for generations. How can we now open trade and allow cultivators to freely enter and leave the demon realm? What kind of order is this?"

"I have heard that some people in the cultivation world have proposed to set up permanent posts in the commercial district. Wouldn't that be like planting spies in my demon realm? That would be very inappropriate."

Fu Xiao remained silent.

He glanced at Fu Yan again.

Fu Yan put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms.

"Is this not appropriate? The revenue generated on the opening day of the commercial district was enough to cover half a year's military expenses for the Demon Realm."

"In the third month since the opening of the commercial district, the Demon Realm's overall fiscal revenue has increased by 90%."

"Your shop has also moved into the commercial area. You should have received your dividends from last month, right?"

"They didn't say 'it's inappropriate' when they took the money, but now they're saying it's inappropriate?"

The elderly man at the head of the group choked for a moment.

His lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

The short, elderly man behind him picked up the conversation, changing the direction:

"The demon realm and the cultivation world are ultimately enemies, not friends. We are worried that if this continues, the demon bloodline will be diluted."

"The mixed bloodline in the young master... serves as a cautionary tale."

Fu Xiao changed his posture on the throne.

He still didn't speak, but he released a little bit of his oppressive aura.

Just a tiny bit.

The three old nobles sensed it at the same time.

The tall, elderly man hurriedly explained, "We're not targeting the young master, we're targeting..."

He paused for a moment, then changed his words: "What I mean is that the young master's management style is too radical. Combining trade and tourism, the Demon Realm has never been so chaotic in thousands of years. The foundation left by our ancestors cannot be squandered like this."

Fu Xiao turned to look at Fu Yan again.

I turned my head a little too fast this time and almost twisted my neck.

Fu Yan chuckled.

He looked at the three elderly noblemen with a calm and unhurried gaze.

"Old Master Mo, Old Master Chong, Old Master Sun."

"Young Master."

"You say my management style is radical... So what do you three think of the Demon Realm's previous management methods?"

The leader, Elder Mo, pondered for a moment: "Steady. For thousands of years, it has remained as stable as a rock."

Fu Yan nodded: "Did the Demon Realm have enough money before?"

Old Mo opened his mouth.

"How much did each noble family contribute in war reparations?" Fu Yan's tone was calm, as if he were reciting a list. "I, the young master, have accounts for every single one. Do you need me to read them aloud?"

Old Mo shut his mouth.

Fu Yan stood up and continued speaking, his pace slow, but every word was like a nail.

"I am in charge of commerce and trade, and I am responsible for accumulating wealth for the demon realm."

"I have undertaken great construction projects, which have led to the increasing prosperity of the demon realm."

"I opened up mines so that the demon people could make a living."

"And what have you done?"

The three old nobles were speechless.

His face looked terrible.

The short, stout old man Sun's face looked like a moldy eggplant.

The tall, thin, and aged man's face resembled a dried bitter gourd.

The leader, Elder Mo, had a face that looked like a piece of tofu that had been sitting for three days—a pale, ashen color with an indescribable sour smell.

Fu Yan added, "Elder Mo, which part are you referring to when you say 'squandering the foundation'?"

Old Master Mo's face changed from white to green, then from green to... well, never mind, it didn't change anymore.

If it keeps changing, it might turn purple.

Fu Xiao changed his posture on the throne again.

This time, he didn't use any intimidating force; instead, he spoke.

The sound wasn't loud, but the entire hall was shaking.

"Is there anything else? If not, you may leave. I still need to read my storybook."

The three old nobles exchanged a glance.

Elder Mo, who was in the lead, wanted to say something more.

Fu Xiao glanced at him.

That glance was like a lion looking at an ant.

Old Mo swallowed back the words he was about to say.

"We take our leave."

The three left the main hall.

The footsteps faded into the distance, disappearing into the night outside the palace.

Fu Xiao took a deep breath after confirming that the person had gone far away.

"Hoo..." The cold-blooded demon lord vanished instantly, slumping back onto his throne like a piece of flesh with its bones removed.

"It's more tiring than fighting. Once the fight is over, it's over, but this requires acting, pretending, and keeping a straight face. My back is stiff."

Fu Yan looked in the direction of the palace gate and remained silent for a moment.

"They're causing trouble, and it's not just about trade."

Fu Xiao sat up from the throne, his expression becoming more serious.

"What else could it be?"

"Because...they were afraid."

Fu Xiao: "What are you afraid of?"

"They're afraid I'll trace it back to them."

Fu Xiao thought for a moment, nodded, and then shook his head.

"Go ahead and investigate. If they dare touch you, I'll twist their heads off and use them as chamber pots."

Fu Yan glanced at him.

"Dad, can you please stop twisting my head all the time? It doesn't sound good to others."

"Then let's not tell anyone, just twist it."

Fu Yan fell silent.

Fu Xiao stepped down from the throne, walked to Fu Yan's side, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Your mouth... is somewhat like Wei Cangxuan's, but more elegant."

Fu Yan's lips twitched slightly.

"It was originally the Patriarch's."

Fu Xiao nodded, his expression showing admiration that "that old man is indeed amazing."

"Wei Cangxuan... he's a bit of a smart aleck, but he's a decent person. You've been with him for fifty years, I'm not worried about you."

He paused.

"He's better at raising kids than your dad."

Fu Yan did not respond.

Fu Xiao thought for a moment, then added, "But I'm more handsome than him."

Fu Yan glanced at him.

That look meant: Whatever makes you happy.

Fu Xiao patted Fu Yan on the shoulder again: "Keep an eye on the house."

Fu Yan raised his head: "Father."

"I'll just go take a look. I'll be right back." Fu Xiao's tone was like he was borrowing pocket money from his son. "It won't take long."

Fu Yan looked at him and remained silent for a moment. "If you go, they will find out."

"So what if they found out? Is it illegal for me to go see my daughter?"

Fu Yan remained silent for a moment. "...Take the concealing pill."

Fu Xiao grinned.

That smile carried a smug "I knew you'd say yes" vibe.

Then he looked at the demon general beside him.

"You two, keep an eye on the young master. Don't let him work himself to death. If he does, there will be no one to help me manage the Demon Realm."

The two demon generals exchanged a glance, then simultaneously clasped their hands in a fist salute: "Yes."

Fu Xiao nodded in satisfaction.

Then it disappeared.

It disappeared even faster than Shadow Seven.

Fu Yan stared at the empty night sky at the palace gate and remained silent for a long time.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

I don't know whether I want to laugh or sigh.

Then he lowered his head and continued approving the documents.

The stack of documents remained as high as ever, seemingly never to diminish, like a mine that could never be exhausted.