Command 2: The Demonic Advisor’s Granddaughter and the Selection of Demons Palace Disciples

[Opening Section – Preparations]

The Ten Thousand Demons Palace, a mysterious location and one of the fifteen power factions of the martial world, aligned with neither righteousness nor evil. However, its demonic image made it appear somewhat malevolent. The palace consisted of thirteen buildings, each overseen by a commander under the governance of the Lord of the Demons Palace, the Deputy Lord of the Demons Palace, and the Demonic Advisor. Each year, the palace opened its doors to disciples of any age, gender, or number. It was said that the test differed each year.

And every year, the individuals overseeing the selection of men and women were far from ordinary…

However, none of the above crossed Ning’ai’s mind in the slightest.

Three days before the disciple selection, the little girl sat swinging her legs on the porch of her home, the spot where she could clearly see the five-rai vegetable plot with watering cans floating around. In one small, thin hand, she held a bound stack of yellowed papers she was reading. In the other hand, she grabbed crispy potato chips to munch on.

Having been here for two months, the once skinny and scrawny little girl now gained some weight, making her pinchable and spankable. She idly thought that it would be nice to gain a little more weight.

But that seemed unlikely if she continued overexerting her physical and internal energy like this every day.

Ning’ai’s gaze swept over the pile of papers beside her, which she had been idly reading as if they were novels. All of this was the documents about past disciple selections for the buildings over the past twenty years. While she had heard some of it from her grandfather, she still needed to study more on her own. Additionally, there were detailed selection criteria.

It was fun—like reading a treasure map from Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s era.

The ten-year-old little one didn’t take long to read through four or five books of records. Carefully placing the records down, Ning’ai clapped her hands several times to brush off the crumbs from her snack. With her little body, she cutely ran with the records in her arms to store them on a bookshelf.

“The disciple selection is so complicated.” With her small voice, she muttered to the wind and sky.

Ning’ai moved her little hands, signaling the hoes, shovels, and watering cans, which had been diligently and cheerfully working, to return to their places.

Suddenly, she sensed a faint but discernible aura. This kind of aura could only be those of the owner of the hem that was flickered as he walked away from her yesterday.

Grandfather wasn’t with him… Why had he come?...

Clink, clink.

The sound of wind chimes stirred as a tall shadow fell from behind her. Ning’ai turned to face the tall figure with a stoic face. Though she was taller than children her age, her height was just the same level as his waist.

The perspective of a small child… It was terrifying.

“Greetings, Lord.” Ning’ai bowed her head respectfully, knowing what she should do.

“Mm.” A voice came from the thick neck, as if it was a voice of a cat that purred to response. The Lord nodded a little before returning to his dignified posture.

“Is there something I can assist you with, my Lord?” The one with a sweet voice asked to gauge.

“No.”

Ah… The little girl blinked her big, round eyes repeatedly, falling silent for a moment. Then, she tugged at the tall man’s sleeve, gesturing for him to sit on the porch. She ran inside to bring tea and snacks to receive him before plopping down beside him. Picking up a twig she had found nearby, she began whittling it with a small, sharp knife. The girl whittled the wood as she glanced at the potato chips. Even though she wanted to pick it up and eat it, she feared that her hands weren’t clean.

Thunk…

A thin, light-yellow potato chip was offered to her, extended from a large, pale hand and stopping right in front of her face. Ning’ai froze, glancing back and forth between the stoic, handsome face of the Lord and the chip of snack.

To have the Lord of the Demons Palace serving her—how great was her life?...

The little kid broke into a wide smile, revealing small fangs as she bit into the thin potato chip, chewing it in a good mood. It was quite great to get both the snack and her work done without wasting her internal energy. She liked it. She liked it.  

And if she had been observing for a bit, she might have noticed the change in his gaze and the red tinge on his ears beneath his jet-black hair.

By evening, the Lord departed after there was no potato chip left on the plate, replaced by third-level female disciples from all thirteen buildings. They arrived shortly after the Lord left. They confronted… no… Ning’ai stood still for them to attack her for around three or four ke, then the senior female disciples were exhausted. 

Still, this was very beneficial for her.

“Thank you so much, big sisters. Here is a small token of appreciation—these tea leaves, handpicked by me.” Ning’ai smiled till her eyes curved into crescents. In her hands was a basket that contained neatly packed medium-sized tea bags.

The third-level female disciples from the thirteen buildings nodded a few times, accepting the tea bags from the small child they had just been thoroughly defeated by. They then dragged their tired bodies back to their buildings, resolving to train harder to avoid such an embarrassing event in the future.

Even a little progress would still be nice.

Two days before the disciple selection, Ning’ai buried herself in the library, intensely focused. One record after another was read. They were placed around her. While the setup wasn’t particularly tidy, it wasn’t messy or an eyesore. Beside her was a plate of xingren seeds as her snack.

The girl wrote and crossed things out on thin sheets of paper to search for the best thing.

As on the previous day, in the late afternoon, the Lord, who had a stoic face, appeared at Dew Residence. Ning’ai didn’t rise to welcome him ceremoniously, and Gu Yangjie merely let out a low ‘mmm’ from his throat before sitting beside the little kid. He ground ink and served her (?) nicely.

Perhaps this Lord had the skills of a good wife…

Ning’ai smiled amusingly at her thoughts. She then sneaked a glance at the expressionless profile of the man beside her. He looked strong and beautiful, like a flower created from stone and glazed with ice. It was like a frozen meal waiting to be heated for it to be cooked.

Mmm, it would probably be… delicious?

It was normal for a thirty-year-old woman. Adding her ten years in this body, she officially was in her forties. This Lord could be considered her junior by ten years. So, it probably wouldn’t hurt to ogle him a little.

Ning’ai shifted her sitting position to face Gu Yangjie. With her little hand, she easily poked the Lord of the Demons Palace for him to turn her way. The deadpan faced man did not say anything, so she decided that he was willing to let her observe him.

A handsome, beautiful face. Long, silky black hair like a crow’s feathers. Eyes the color of the sea. Broad shoulders. She guessed that there must be firm muscles hiding under the clothes. A tapering waistline that, in her past world, would be called a V-shape. His demeanor was elegant yet fierce. Looking at him briefly, he was like a bad boy, one that was popular.

“You’re quite handsome.” The grown woman in a little kid body said without a shame.

“...”

“I like it.”

Whoosh!

The thirty-year-old junior sprang to his feet. He flicked the hem of his shirt, allowing it to flow as he walked away. His ears burned bright red as those large, round eyes scrutinized his form disrespectfully. The words spoken from those plump, dewy, little lips had been tempting.

Stay calm! He couldn’t commit any impropriety against the beloved granddaughter of his master!!

Behind him, Ning’ai could only watch the retreating figure in confusion. This Lord came and went so quickly like a wind that was hard to touch. She had no idea what made him angry and caused him to quickly leave with his face being red and his brow furrowing, as if he was suppressing something. Could it be that the Lord didn’t like people mentioning the appearance?

Oh well. She’d apologize the next time they met.

On the final day before the selection of disciples to the Demons Palace, the small hands deftly threaded a needle. Without getting to prepare herself, she had received several bolts of invaluable silk. For some unknown reason, servants had arrived the day before, bringing numerous chests of silk, nearly overflowing the residence. They simply stated that it was under the Lord’s orders.

The Lord was in a good mood?

Ning’ai didn’t want to find the answer. Besides her usual daily tasks, she allocated time today to sew new outfits for tomorrow. She guessed it wouldn’t take too long to sew three outfits—for her grandfather, for herself, and for the Lord.

Speaking of Cao Cao, and Cao Cao arrived. When the owner of the outfit appeared, she wasted no time spinning him left and right, using him as a mannequin for her to compare measurements. Although she had already estimated from yesterday, it hadn’t been exhaustive. Having the real person here to measure while sewing was quite great.

“What color attire do you prefer, my Lord?” the small figure asked while trying to match the silk to its wearer.

She then found out a fact: a beautiful person would look beautiful and fit in any color.

She really couldn’t decide.

“What color is your clothes?” The deep voice spoke a full sentence for the first time in three days, leaving Ning’ai trying to decipher its meaning.

Did he mean the attire for tomorrow?

“I am still young, so I thought I’d go with light blue and white, with a lotus pattern,” the little girl answered with the truth. Since she was still a child, even though she had to be somewhat polite, blue and white was considered bright, and not too much for her age.

“Make it match yours,” the deadpan faced man said firmly. It sounded like a command.

No, this was definitely a command.

Ning’ai tilted her head and blinked repeatedly but nodded in agreement. For nearly two hours, she climbed, pulling at the Lord’s form.

Thanks to her exceptional homemaking skills from the House’s Daughter, it didn’t take long for the two matching outfits to be finished… Could they be considered a matching outfit?

Once the Lord had his outfit, he left with a faint smile, leaving her with a pile of fabric yet to be tidied up.

Well, time to make Grandfather’s outfit.

...

Let’s use the same pattern.