Chapter 2: Dou Dou

“Guoguo, guoguo…”

The little girl’s voice was adorable and soft.

She trotted after Shen Siyuan on her chubby little legs, reaching out to grab him.

Shen Siyuan looked down at her, and she asked again: “Guoguo, can you see me?”

This time, Shen Siyuan nodded firmly.

Shen Siyuan had expected her to be delighted, but she pouted, her lips trembling, tears swirling in her eyes, on the verge of crying.

“What’s wrong? I can see you, and you’re upset?” Shen Siyuan was utterly baffled.

“When I talk to my mom and dad, they ignore me… and Duoduo, they won’t play with me… wu wu wu… Guoguo can see me and talk to me, and I’m so happy—but—but—waah…”

The little girl seemed determined to vent all her grievances, opening her mouth wide and bursting into loud sobs.

“Don’t cry… don’t cry…”

Shen Siyuan was flustered—he rarely dealt with children and had no idea what to do.

“Wu wu… I miss my mom and dad so much… I want to talk to them…” The little girl wiped her tears, sobbing.

But her tears seemed endless—each time she wiped, more came.

“Talk to them? That’s easy. Stop crying, big brother will help you.” Shen Siyuan soothed.

Though he had no cultivation, he had inherited the legacy of a mighty Demon Lord.

He might not be able to regenerate flesh and bone or resurrect the dead, but making a living person see a spirit? That was simple—just activate the Ten Thousand Souls Banner, bind a wisp of Nether Qi, and it would be effortless—perfectly suited to the task.

Shen Siyuan decided to fulfill this small wish of hers.

“Here’s what you do: go back home first. When your mom gets off work, come to this office and find me—I’ll make sure your mom sees you.”

Shen Siyuan pointed to his own online game operations department.

“Really?”

“Of course it’s real. Would big brother lie to a little brat like you?”

“Then let’s pinky-swear~”

The little girl extended her short, stubby finger.

“Fine, fine~” Shen Siyuan sighed, bending down to link pinkies with her.

“Pinky swear, never break it, for a hundred years…”

At that moment, the little girl suddenly tiptoed and gave him a loud, wet kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Guoguo~”

Then she turned, flung her tiny arms open, made “woo woo” sounds, and scampered off like a little airplane.

Watching her retreating back, Shen Siyuan’s gaze softened slightly.

Shen Siyuan was an only child, so no one had ever called him “Guoguo.”

But in his memories, the Nine You Demon Lord had a younger sister.

Though the Nine You Demon Lord had stirred up countless bloodbaths and destroyed numerous dynasties,

before becoming a Demon Lord, he was merely the third son of an ordinary farming family, named Lin San. He had an older brother, an older sister, and a younger sister.

His sister had married far away when he was very young—he barely remembered her.

His older brother, though of marriageable age, had never found a wife due to their family’s poverty.

His younger sister was about the same age as this little girl, always clinging to his heels, calling him “Guoguo.”

Life was hard, but the whole family was kind-hearted, and they were happy.

Then one year, a terrible drought struck, turning the land barren, leaving no harvest.

Corpses littered the fields; people traded children for food. His mother starved first, then his strong, healthy older brother.

To ensure his survival, his father sold his sister for a few grains of rice, gave every last morsel to Lin San, then left alone—just to save one more mouthful for him.

When Lin San saw his sister again, it was in a mass grave—her head was rotting beyond recognition, her body reduced to gleaming white bones, not a shred of flesh left…

Later, Lin San learned the drought wasn’t natural—it was caused by a senior elder of the Flame Sun Sect, who diverted the earth’s veins to refine a magic treasure.

Only then did Lin San awaken: in this vast wilderness, humans were as insignificant as ants—only cultivation, only power, was eternal…

So after achieving cultivation, Lin San’s first act was to exterminate the entire Flame Sun Sect—and thus, the Nine You Demon Lord was born…

…

Shen Siyuan pushed open the door to the operations department and walked in.

Instantly, someone switched their computer screen, others sat up straight, some pretended to casually put down their phones…

But when they saw it was Shen Siyuan, they immediately went back to what they were doing.

This was precisely why Shen Siyuan was willing to accept a monthly salary of just over five thousand yuan and refused to quit.

He only worked one day a week; the rest of the time he played. Even Manager Zhou Chuan did the same, so no one cared.

The entire operations department had eleven people: nine men, two women.

Shen Siyuan sat in the second row, directly opposite Manager Zhou Chuan, with Li Kang—nicknamed Kang the Pockmarked—on his right.

On his left was Wang Chao, nicknamed Brother Chao, who always sported a buzzcut so short it clung to his scalp, looked like a thug, was short in stature, loyal, but impulsive.

The reimbursement form in Shen Siyuan’s hand belonged to him.

“Reattach it.”

Shen Siyuan tossed the reimbursement form onto his desk.

“RTM, I’ve stuck it on three times already—still not good enough?” Wang Chao cursed.

Tian Yunrui, seated across the partition, chuckled: “Did you piss off Fu Accountant?”

At his words, everyone who had been half-asleep suddenly perked up.

Li Kang: “It’s definitely because last time we had dinner, Brother Chao toasted everyone in Accounting—except Fu Accountant.”

Zhang Kaixuan, seated across from Li Kang, burst out laughing: “Brother Chao, you idiot, you kissed the horse’s ass and got kicked. We’re operations—why toast finance? You think they’ll raise your salary?”

Lu Ran, sitting behind Wang Chao, turned around: “You guys don’t get it. That day, he wasn’t toasting—he just saw Liu Xintong wearing a deep-V that day and sneaked a peek at her big thunder…”

“Damn… so that’s it? Brother Chao, you’re not even human, and you didn’t even say anything!”

Everyone erupted in outrage.

“Alright, alright, there are female colleagues here—watch your language…”

Zhou Chuan, as department manager, had to say something—even if just for show.

No one cared. One of the two female colleagues, Lin Manzhi, said: “Sometimes I really don’t get you guys. Why do you all stare at girls’ chests and legs? What’s so interesting?”

At her words, everyone shouted.

“Sister Lin, it’s not like that…”

“Sister Lin, you just don’t understand…”

“Sister Lin, that’s not right…”

…

The whole department erupted in laughter.

“Sister, don’t be naive. Men don’t stare at legs, butts, figures, or faces—do you expect us to stare at their internal organs?”

The office was filled with cheerful noise.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, staring does no good—if you like them, go after them.”

Her words silenced everyone.

Only her desk neighbor, Li Wjuan, giggled uncontrollably.

Guanghui Animation was a game company focused on mobile game development, so female employees were few, and beautiful ones even rarer—Lin Manzhi was one of the most beautiful.

Her face was lovely, her figure tall and slender, her fingers like tender green onions, and her unique gentle aura was especially captivating.

She especially loved wearing professional women’s blazers, adding even more charm to her professional beauty.

Her long legs were especially alluring, making her a constant object of covert glances—her only drawback was that she was married; her husband worked in the adjacent design institute, and they’d had a son two years ago, living a happy, fulfilling life.

Indeed, once a woman marries and becomes a wife, not only does her mouth loosen below, but above too.

Everyone laughed and chatted, and soon it was time to leave. Some had already shut down their computers; others had already made plans with friends, waiting only for the clock to strike.

This was also why, despite the low salary, Shen Siyuan refused to quit—working here was so comfortable; it would be hard to find a job like this elsewhere.

Shen Siyuan didn’t leave, because the little brat had already come over and stood beside him, looking at him pitifully.