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

Demon world.

The Demon Palace.

After reading many picture books on literacy, Fu Xiao finally learned to read.

In just three years, his literacy level improved from illiterate to the point where he could understand storybooks.

now.

He slumped on the throne, reading a storybook.

The throne is so large that he can lie down horizontally, vertically, or diagonally.

Every pose is like a salted fish that doesn't want to turn over.

The black robe was laid out on the obsidian floor, blending in with the floor.

From a distance, it looks like a head growing out of a black carpet.

The cover of that storybook was brightly colored, with a line of large, gold-embossed characters:

The Demon Lord and the Mysterious Female Cultivator's Three-Hundred-Year-Old Underground Romance

He turned to one of the pages and read it aloud:

"In my entire life, I have only ever loved one person. After she left, my heart was empty. For three hundred years, I have thought of her every night, and I have been unable to sleep every night..."

He stopped, frowned, and brought the book closer to examine it.

Did I say that?

He thought about it.

I thought about it carefully.

Then he shook his head.

"No. I never said that. Who made this up?"

No one answered him.

The guards stood expressionless on both sides, like several black statues.

They were used to it long ago.

The first time I saw the Demon Lord reading a book, I was so shocked that my jaw almost dropped to the ground.

The next day I started to wonder if I was dreaming.

By the third day, I was numb.

Now, every day when the Demon Lord reads a storybook, he mutters to himself dozens of times, "Did I ever say that?"

Sometimes, when they see something particularly interesting, they'll read it aloud and then offer their commentary.

Once, after reading an entire chapter, he said to the guard beside him, "This part is well written. I will reward the author with one hundred spirit stones later."

The guard reminded him that the author used a pseudonym and could not be found.

He thought for a moment and said, "Then let's just enjoy the air."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Fu Yan sat at the lower end of the table.

A stack of documents was piled on the table.

They were stacked up to be taller than his head.

Like a tower that has grown crooked.

Each document requires a signature, approval, and response.

He held a pen in his hand and reviewed the papers very quickly, flipping through them one by one as if he were counting money.

But when he counts money, the corners of his mouth turn up, while when he approves documents, the corners of his mouth turn down.

Two demon generals stood before him.

One on the left and one on the right, like two door gods.

The demon general on the left was in charge of reporting finances, holding a thick ledger in his hand, flipping through it noisily.

The demon general on the right is in charge of reporting military affairs, holding a rolled-up map that is longer than a person when unfolded.

The finance expert spoke first.

There was a hint of unease in her voice, as if she didn't know how to tell the young master, but she couldn't just not say anything.

"Young Master, the massacre of a sect in the cultivation world this time has caused quite a stir. People aren't in the mood to buy anything anymore. The turnover in the commercial district has dropped by 40% this month."

Fu Yan paused, his pen poised. "Forty percent?"

Financial Demon General:

"Yes. Minerals and religious artifacts saw the biggest price drops. Souvenirs and snacks saw smaller price drops, with snacks only decreasing by 10%."

Fu Yan nodded: "The fact that the price of snacks hasn't dropped much means they're not short of money, they're just not in the mood. Once this storm passes, things will return to normal."

The demon will turn to the next page and continue:

"Also... the demon army has been mobilized to keep an eye on those old nobles and demonic beasts, which has increased military spending."

"The mines are short-staffed. A lot of demons have quit recently and gone to open shops in the commercial district."

"You can earn more by running a shop, even if you're just doing manual labor."

"The progress of the tourism development zone has also been affected; there is a shortage of craftsmen and materials. Several key projects have been halted."

He closed the ledger and said the most troublesome thing.

"Simply put, the funding for the construction of the Demon Realm is running low."

Fu Yan put down his pen.

He looked at the Financial Demon General, and the Financial Demon General looked at him; their eyes met in mid-air.

The financial expert was the first to look away.

It wasn't because he felt guilty, but because the young master's eyes were so cold that he wanted to go back to his bed to warm up.

Fu Yan rubbed his temples and said:

"Mining cannot stop. Ore is the hard currency of the Demon Realm. As long as mining continues, the Demon Realm will never be poor."

"Tourism development is suspended; we'll transfer more staff to the mines to fill the gaps."

He thought about it.

"Pass down the order: all demons willing to work in the mines will receive a 30% pay raise. Room and board will be provided, and a bonus will be awarded after a full year of service."

The finance manager paused for a moment, then said, "...Year-end bonus?"

Fu Yan: "Yes, I learned it in the mortal realm. It's effective. Do as instructed."

The finance expert bowed his head and took notes.

Although I don't quite understand what that thing is, I should just do as the young master says.

Last time, the young master mentioned using "hunger marketing," which no one understood, but they made a fortune.

The last time the young master mentioned "vertical integration of the industrial chain," no one understood it, but they still made a fortune.

This time, when the young master mentioned "year-end bonus," although I still didn't understand, I've learned not to ask anymore.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The military demon general stepped forward and unfolded the map in his hand.

The map was covered with dense markings.

The red dots represent the territories of the old nobles, the blue dots represent the garrisons of the demon army, and the black dots represent the monitored areas... there are too many to count.

"Young Master, we've discovered that the ancestors of several noble families are no longer in the Demon Realm."

Fu Yan's eyes narrowed. "Not in the Demon Realm?"

"Yes, the last time anyone saw them was thirty years ago."

Fu Yan frowned slightly: "Thirty years ago?"

The Demon Lord nodded: "Yes. Before and after the war between immortals and demons."

"They never came back after they left."

"Family affairs are handled by the younger generation, but major decisions are still controlled behind the scenes by them."

"We've checked their family's mid-level magical beasts, and the number matches the registered ones."

"High-level magical beasts...not found, not a single one."

The military demon paused.

"If those high-level magical beasts weren't kept in the family territory, then there are only two possibilities: either they were taken away, or they were hidden away."

"Considering that those ancestors are not in the Demon Realm either, the former is more likely."

Fu Yan gave a cold laugh.

The laughter wasn't loud, but the temperature in the entire hall seemed to drop by two degrees.

"Thirty years. Missing for thirty years without anyone noticing? What's the Demon Realm's intelligence system doing?"

The military commander hesitated for a moment, then finally said, "Young Master, have you forgotten? Thirty years ago, His Majesty managed the administration. There was no intelligence system. It was only established three years ago after you returned."

Fu Yan: "..."

He slowly turned his head and looked at the throne.

Fu Xiao was engrossed in the storybook, muttering to himself, "When have I ever been this cheesy?"

Fu Yan took a deep breath.

That breath was very long, so long that it seemed to suck up all the air in the entire Demon Palace.

"father."

Fu Xiao did not respond.

"father."

Fu Xiao turned a page.

"father!!"

Fu Xiao looked up: "Huh? What's wrong?"

"You were in charge of government affairs thirty years ago."

Fu Xiao blinked, as if recalling a distant period of history.

"Thirty years ago... wasn't that during the war between immortals and demons? I was busy fighting."

"They surrendered after only drinking half a cup of tea."

"Even after surrendering, there's still a lot to do. Paying reparations, signing agreements, appeasing the troops, dealing with the nobles... there's plenty to do."

Fu Yan looked at him expressionlessly.

Fu Xiao thought for a moment, then thought again, and finally waved his hand, his tone carrying an innocent "I've done my best" feel.

"Besides, I don't understand government affairs. You know I used to not even be able to read properly. If you ask me to approve documents, I can't even understand the titles. If you ask me to work on the intelligence system, I don't even know what intelligence is."

Fu Yan fell silent.

That silence contained a complex mix of emotions: "You're right" and "How did I end up with such a father?"