Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
In the Demon Realm, whether it was dawn or not made no difference at all.
The gray sky remained as usual, a dim yellow tinged with crimson, like a spilled dye vat. The heavy, damp air weighed on one’s spirit; the rainy season of the Demon Realm was approaching.
As the hour of Mao neared, all disciples gathered before the Lianqing Hall, standing behind their respective sect leaders, each trying to outdo the others in presence and momentum.
The scene was truly magnificent—drums resounding, firecrackers exploding in unison, red flags fluttering, and a sea of people...
—Later generations would record such moments in history books as the first employee training conference of the Demon Palace.
Now, only the cold wind howled through the Demon Realm, stirring up endless yellow sand.
Qin Juan stood at the forefront, her wide sleeves torn by the swirling sandstorm, like a bird’s wings beating against fierce winds. The black feathers of her wings shimmered faintly with golden threads, resembling the iridescent plumage of a raven. Everyone waited silently for the new Palace Master to speak.
Qin Juan wondered if she would choke on sand if she opened her mouth.
Pei Yan leaned in: “Palace Master, the time is up.”
Qin Juan glanced at the sky and spoke rapidly: “The first Demon Palace Employee Training and Oath-taking Conference begins now!”
?
Normally, wouldn’t one say some meaningless words to display value and presence? Why end so quickly?
Qin Juan felt a jolt.
System: “Please maintain seriousness at important occasions.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“Since its founding, the Demon Palace has a history of five hundred years—”
The system stopped the countdown, satisfied with its training effects; at least the host no longer resisted passively.
Qin Juan cleared her throat: “Seeing so many fresh faces join, I am filled with confidence for the Demon Palace’s future.”
“Welcome to this battlefield where destinies are rewritten.” Qin Juan’s gaze swept across the crowd, her gentle eyes filled with an invisible pressure.
The system sensed something ominous.
“Don’t be nervous. This is just the opening of the game. Among you, one in every three will be lucky enough to receive a ticket off this great ship called the Demon Palace before training ends.”
The silent crowd stirred uneasily; no one had heard of being kicked out midway after joining the Demon Palace. What was going on?
The atmosphere suddenly tightened.
“Some have asked me what kind of people the Demon Palace needs.” Qin Juan snapped her fingers, and eight large characters appeared on the projection wall behind her:
“Peak or Abyss.”
System: ...When did the host come up with such lofty slogans?
Qin Juan was pleased with the shock the slogan caused and continued, “The Demon Palace is a magnifying glass for the weak, a furnace for the strong. The Palace Master’s order in your hands is not a voucher for benefits but a ‘debt agreement’—every minute the Demon Palace invests in you expects a hundredfold return.”
System: ...Living demon king.
“I know some of you have secretly calculated salaries and compared with other organizations, but true value should not be measured this way. While your peers enjoy comfort, you rewrite industry rules; while they complain about life, you fight new battles. The Demon Palace gives you leverage and support—why can’t you move the entire Jiuzhou continent?”
...
A flicker of confusion crossed the eyes of the disciples before Lianqing Hall.
It seemed passionate, as if encouraging them, but why did it feel somewhat incomprehensible?
Employees unable to join training looked at the newcomers with envy, feeling they were born at a fortunate time to seize such an opportunity. To be valued by the new Palace Master, even if they couldn’t reach the Heavenly Yu Academy, they would at least earn plenty and live comfortably without worries!
“Your social circles and topics will be valuable in the future. The lights not extinguished at the hour of Chou, project summaries during emergency IV drips in the Demon Palace’s ER, and headhunter news will overwhelm you to disbelief. Remember—the platform of the Demon Palace gives you wings. You may choose to leave for seemingly better prospects, but—”
“There will be more waiting to fill your vacancies.”
The disciples’ bodies trembled; lazy postures straightened into proud chests, and the indifferent eyes sparked with fighting spirit and flame.
Some were unfazed; others stared in astonishment.
“In the next three months, you will endure pain and gain growth. When your OKRs turn red... don’t worry, the Demon Palace believes in your potential more than you do.”
Every word was encouragement, yet the system felt something was off.
Could Qin Juan be so kind-hearted? Not exploiting anyone, only wanting every member of the Demon Palace to grow?
Was this still the evil Demon Lord? Or a life coach?
System: “Host must remember, the evil Demon Lord is a villain, not humanity’s dawn or the Demon Palace’s savior. There is no need to lead the Demon Palace to light. Please remember your mission and avoid distractions—”
Qin Juan ignored the system’s warning. “Help me tally the head-raising and nodding rates of the crowd during my speech.”
System, distracted: “Why do you need this?”
Qin Juan calmly replied, “To find potential candidates.”
The system didn’t understand but complied instinctively.
With a calm mind, Qin Juan looked at the eager Demon Palace disciples below, as if already seeing her business empire beckoning her.
Qin Juan smiled with satisfaction: “You will be assigned to the sect leaders Yan Yue and Pei Yan, forming two teams. During training, you will foster a learning atmosphere and competitive spirit of catching up, helping, and surpassing. The team with the highest cumulative score will receive bonus points in the annual performance review.”
“...Let us shout the Demon Palace slogan together: ‘Peak or Abyss!’”
“Peak or Abyss!”
“Peak or Abyss!”
Passions flared; shouts thundered.
Qin Juan raised her hand, and the voices ceased immediately.
She said, “For a better tomorrow.”
Roar—!!!
Thunderous applause, cheers rising, the area before Lianqing Hall boiled with excitement.
Nearest were the Ten Yan Hall and the Saint Slayer Sect, whose spies crouched by the Demon Palace border, bewildered by the clamorous noise within.
What on earth was the Demon Palace doing?
Since Qin Juan’s arrival, she had nearly halted all external business of the Demon Palace and set successive agendas. Thus, news of the new Palace Master had yet to breach the boundary.
Even the planted spies fretted over their reports and the upcoming employee training.
A spy by the border muttered, “So much commotion recently, but no news leaks out? Did the planted spies all get exposed?”
Within the Demon Palace, everyone was overwhelmed, barely finishing daily reports, let alone earning side income.
...
After the opening ceremony, the first task was to lead all trainees into Lianqing Hall.
Seven unsuspecting sect leaders were shocked: “Palace Master! This cannot be! Lianqing Hall isn’t a place ordinary people may enter at will!”
Qin Juan said nothing, her gaze coldly sweeping over them. Those blocking her path, including Duan Wujue, fell silent and retreated obediently.
The number of newcomers in the past decade was not many—less than five hundred in total—filling Lianqing Hall comfortably.
Qin Juan directly led them to the left side of the hall.
The area previously blocked off finally saw daylight.
A huge projection wall stood at the front, with rows of desks and benches neatly arranged.
Qin Juan said, “This is the indoor training classroom. According to the seven sect leaders’ teaching plans, you will learn and grow here.”
The system stared dumbfounded at the lecture hall-like setup.
System: “When did the host arrange all this?”
Qin Juan’s slight smile was answered by the pale-faced Long Langbai behind her, who looked utterly exhausted.
...
When all arrangements were complete, night had long fallen.
Qin Juan rose from her desk, turned behind the screen, and saw the other side brightly lit and fully seated. She smiled again.
Quietly, Qin Juan took a seat at the back row of the training classroom, in an empty spot.
Next to her was a drowsy young man nearly succumbing to sleep. As she sat down, the nearly sleeping boy nodded sharply, eyes dazedly meeting hers.
The boy had beautiful peach blossom eyes, clouded and shimmering like rippling waves. A silver forehead band covered half his sharp brows, lending him a refined air. His pale complexion resembled shattered jade; his frail body was hinted at, yet his sturdy bone structure and determined brows suggested a resilient life force.
Gloomy, eerie—like a ghost freshly risen from the earth, or a lost dog without a home.
When his eyes met Qin Juan’s, a spark of starlight seemed to ignite in the barren depths, instantly blazing into a storm.
Qin Juan remained composed, assuming the boy was overwhelmed by her commanding aura. She even began contemplating employee health insurance, wondering how much reimbursement would be suitable for one with such apparent innate weaknesses.
Qin Juan looked at the blank paper before the boy, clearly showing he had absorbed nothing.
“What’s your name?”
The black-clad youth blinked, finally alert. The mist in his eyes condensed into dark droplets, shadowed and somber, with a ghostly smile.
“Zhu Changliu,” he said, “from... Rongdu.”
Rongdu?
So this was the infamous résumé-falsifier Zhu Changliu?
“Palace Master, do you need something?” Zhu Changliu asked, his demeanor darkening a bit upon no response.
Bathed in lamplight, his face was strikingly handsome. His résumé stated he was only seventeen this year—a borderline age between youth and adulthood, still tinged with naivety but prematurely shaded with maturity. No matter how steady his nature or pale his health, his face still buzzed with youthful vitality.
Such vitality should have him buried in classroom work, not mining in the Demon Palace. Yet this face, once full of vigor, now bore the bitter suffering of one worn by early twilight.
Qin Juan had never seen such a contradictory person. Before meeting him, she suspected his résumé was fake and suggested Long Langbai conduct a background check. But seeing Zhu Changliu in person, she believed his story.
Those untouched by hardship don’t possess such stagnant eyes, nor can they be numb and indifferent while inwardly unwilling, angry, and confused.
Qin Juan asked, “How do you find the training?”
“...Good.”
Qin Juan raised an eyebrow: “Sleeping well?”
Zhu Changliu blinked slowly like a sluggish sloth, “The lectures are good too.” Each blink seemed to ease the premature maturity from his eyes.
He looked at Qin Juan like a hunter eyeing prey, his eyes gleaming with deep excitement.
Qin Juan stood and, like any boss keen on motivating subordinates, patted Zhu Changliu’s shoulder, “Keep it up. I’m counting on you.”
Zhu Changliu: “Oh, thanks.”
Qin Juan left; he tilted his head and looked at his shoulder.
...
Through the stacked buildings, the brilliant scene inside Lianqing Hall was still visible. The bright lights outshone the red clouds over the Demon Abyss, illuminating the sky above the Demon Palace.
Spies at the border of the Demon Palace gathered in increasing numbers. The remaining seventeen sects had assembled, groups of three to five standing together, staring blankly at the bright sky.
“Brother, what do you think the Demon Palace is up to?”
“No idea, but it doesn’t seem good.”
Until now, outsiders remained unaware that the Demon Palace had a new Palace Master.
...
Qin Juan stood by the window, satisfied as she watched the ever-burning lights of Lianqing Hall, sighing, “This is the atmosphere a proper enterprise should have.”
Striving is the ultimate meaning of life.
It was just past the hour of Hai—the exact time to strive. Under her wise leadership, the Demon Palace’s public listing was imminent.
Qin Juan sat down, facing the brightly lit Lianqing Hall, then instructed the system to display the compiled head-raising and head-lowering rates.
System, puzzled: “Why do you need this?”
In the Demon Palace, untouched by the aura of striving, everything was pure and simple. This was a blue ocean of effort, a blue ocean for all business activities.
Those untainted by striving and workplace culture were the best specimens for her workplace research.
Qin Juan said, “Those who nod the most agree with me.” They could be influenced by voluntary overtime and gratitude rhetoric.
“Those who keep their heads raised have rebellious spirits.” They should be recruited with ideals and aspirations.
“Those who mostly keep their heads down but occasionally raise them—”
Were the mediocre majority, indifferent but occasionally hardworking, wishing to slack off. Given money and pressure to the limit, their resistance would be futile complaints—the silent majority.
System asked, “What about those who keep their heads down all along?”
Qin Juan looked thoughtfully at the list the system provided.
Never once had they raised their heads—
Was it Zhu Changliu again?