A Guide to Raising Younglings in the Demon Realm

*** Completed. My historical romance, Low-Marriage Daily Life, is updating now. Please add it to your favorites, dear readers! ***

Si Mingyue receives a nearly impossible mission to save the world.

Leave the human realm, infiltrate the demon realm, sign peace treaties between humans and demons with the great demons of every faction, and patch up the human realm's barrier, which is nearly past its expiration date.

As soon as she sets foot in the demon realm, she discovers that things aren't so simple. According to the common knowledge there, humans went extinct tens of millions of years ago!

What can she do? Just go with the flow for now.

Among a crowd of demons who are hundreds or thousands of years old, sixteen-year-old Si Mingyue is practically an infant.

She's even assigned a male caretaker to look after her.

She has everything brought to her, meals served to her, and a dedicated escort to take her to and from school. She can even go on trips now and then. Aside from a little culture shock, it's all rather wonderful.

But even an infant has her troubles.

Why is her caretaker looking at her more and more passionately?

Why is the young Vermilion Bird master, who used to think she was useless, drinking her saliva?

The White Fox clan leader, who rules his own territory, smiles gently at her. "They're all such rough demons. How could they know how to be considerate? Unlike me, I can't stand to see you even a little unhappy."

You seem kind of two-faced.

At night, she opens the window and gazes at the moon, missing home.

Beneath the bright full moon, the sea is calm and deep blue. A mermaid with ink-black hair sits on a reef, his face divine as he sings her a courtship song.

Si Mingyue: "..."

Sure, she smells delicious, but they don't have to be this unrestrained. Could everyone please tone it down a little?

Reading Guide (and content warnings):

1. The story is set thirty million years after humanity's extinction. The demon race inherited some human technology, so the setting has a futuristic feel. Scenes with apartments, electricity, and telephones are entirely possible.

2. At its heart, this is a story about a pampered young woman and a lot of demons (you know what I mean). A sweet romance, aimed at women. The author only wants to write a sugary love story (it's not quite so sweet anymore, and I'm prepared for the criticism).

3. More will be added as I think of it.

Upcoming novel: Cherished Slave, about a warrior monk and a noble young lady. I'll write it after the little one is done, so please add it to your favorites if you're interested!

On the Lantern Festival night, she slipped out of the house, curious to see the tall, nine-foot monk. His face was haggard as he clumsily performed with his staff. The staff whistled through the air, while the monk stumbled and gasped for breath. There were only two or three coins in his broken wooden bowl, and hardly anyone had stopped to watch.

She stood there prettily and asked her maid, "Is street performing really that difficult?"

He heard her and answered gruffly, "I'm sick. It's not usually like this!"

Out of pity, the sheltered young lady gave him ten taels of silver.

Half a year later, her father and brothers were murdered, the entire household was confiscated, and the women of the family were sold by the authorities. Her mother struck her head against the ancestral hall's stone tablet and died. She was confiscated as a slave and bought by a madam from a brothel.

The monk traveled a thousand miles to rescue her. He slammed down a stack of silver, smashing the rosewood phoenix-and-luan couch in the pleasure house to pieces. His eyes blazed with fury. "So what if I'm a monk? A monk can buy a young lady, too!"

He spent all his money to redeem her, then raced day and night to escort her to the capital for her wedding.

Beneath the scorching sun, he ladled up some water and secretly plucked a lotus leaf to shade her head. "Your skin is so delicate. Don't let the sun melt you. Amitabha, this humble monk has sinned by stealing."

On a bitterly cold night, he stood outside a ruined temple, leaning on his staff like an Arhat, while she slept safely by the fire inside. He himself chewed on dry flatbread to stave off hunger.

As rain poured down and the mountain path turned to mud, he let her hold the umbrella while he carried her step by step through the muddy water. The tips of his ears turned red as he recited, Amitabha. Form is emptiness.

Through countless hardships, he finally brought her to the capital.

On her wedding day, he got dead drunk at an inn. In a haze, he saw her approach in her wedding dress, breathtakingly beautiful. Thinking it was another absurd dream, he succumbed to his inner demons and could no longer control himself.

The next day, he woke to find her cheeks flushed, her dark hair disheveled, and her bright red wedding dress strewn by the edge of the bed.

She propped herself up on one arm. Her black hair and red lips framed her damp, dewy eyes. Her voice was soft and husky. "You taught me this: if you want something good, you have to fight for it. There's no jade-faced gentleman in my heart. There's only one towering Arhat, a man who stands between Heaven and Earth."

Theme: Learn from your mistakes, and do better next time