The Demon King’s Precious Little Angel - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Mysterious Black Cat Visitor Dro you’re blushing so you must

Droville stiffened instantly, completely at a loss for what to do. His seeking gaze instinctively fell upon Celine, asking, “Is he… just too full?”

Celine recalled Celoa’s round belly from earlier and gave an uncertain hum. She reached out to feel it.

The belly was very soft. When rubbed, Celoa would let out soft whimpers and nuzzle back and forth in Droville’s arms.

Celine asked gently, “Celoa, does it feel a bit better if I rub it?”

Celoa looked up. His eyes were moist from the pain, shimmering with unshed tears. Hearing Celine’s question, he tried very hard to sniffle and hold back the urge to cry, though his voice still carried a choked quality.

“It still hurts.”

Celine withdrew her hand and shook her head. “It seems it’s something else.”

Droville adjusted his posture to hold Celoa differently. He lifted the boy’s collar, squinted, and observed for a moment before suddenly stating:

“He might be having an allergic reaction.”

Celine followed his gaze and sure enough, a large number of tiny red spots had surfaced on Celoa’s previously fair skin, densely covering his entire shoulder. It was scary to imagine what it looked like beneath the rest of his clothes.

Droville gently rubbed Celoa’s shrinking shoulder. He pressed a finger to the boy’s brow, and a faint black light radiated from his fingertip, haloing Celoa’s face.

Celoa instinctively closed his eyes and tilted his head up obediently, allowing Droville to proceed. Droville’s gaze settled quietly on the boy’s neck.

Fragile, fair, and brimming with vibrant life.

Only now, it was covered in eyesore-inducing red spots.

He let out a slightly annoyed “tsk.” The light at his fingertip grew intense and sank into the center of Celoa’s brow.

Celoa shivered slightly, his eyelashes trembling. He opened his eyes dazed, raised a hand, and slowly covered his forehead, letting out a soft “Ah.”

Celine found it amusing and teased, “Hmm? What has made our little Celoa’s eyes go so round?”

Celoa didn’t catch Celine’s playful tone. Keeping his hand on his head, his eyes darted around until they met Celine’s, and then he answered her question seriously.

“My forehead… suddenly got cold. Then, my whole body got cold. Once it wasn’t cold anymore, the pain was gone.”

His eyes sparkled as he praised: “Dro is so amazing.”

Droville lowered his gaze and sighed, rubbing Celoa’s head. “You… is that the only sentence you know how to say?”

Celoa leaned forward curiously, pressing his hands against Droville’s shoulders to climb higher. His cheek pressed against Droville’s cold, stiff collar as he called out softly:

“Dro, lower your head.”

Droville tilted his head to look at Celoa, remaining still for a moment. Celoa didn’t lose heart, however; he kept beckoning and trying very hard to call him down.

Celine couldn’t watch anymore, and she shifted a condemning gaze toward him.

Only then did Droville languidly lower his head, bringing his ear close to Celoa’s lips, signaling with his eyes for the boy to speak.

Celoa parted his lips, and a light, warm breath brushed against Droville’s face, causing him to momentarily lose focus. He heard Celoa speaking in a very thin, tiny voice, asking tentatively:

“Dro, do you really like it when I praise you?”

Having said that, Celoa stared at the tips of Droville’s ears with an inquisitive gaze, observing the change intently.

Droville turned his gaze away in disbelief, not reacting for a moment to what Celoa had actually said. The words echoed in his mind, making him feel a bit woozy. Without him realizing it, a faint red hue slowly bloomed across his earlobes.

Celoa let out a puff of air, confirming:

“Dro is blushing. So, Dro likes it.”

Droville suddenly swung the door open. The lights in the room came on automatically, casting a warm yellow glow. There was a soft mattress, a fluffy quilt, and even cute stuffed dolls.

Celoa couldn’t help but let out a “Wow.”

Droville placed him on the bed and tucked him in, wrapping him up like a zongzi a rice dumpling. His tone was a bit sharp, as if he were embarrassed and angry.

“Children shouldn’t try to guess adults’ thoughts. Just go to sleep.”

Celoa poked his head out from under the covers, staring at Droville with wide, waiting eyes, asking piteously:

“Dro, I know I was wrong. I won’t say it to your face next time. Won’t you sleep with me today?”

Droville’s eyes darted toward Celine, who was on the verge of bursting into laughter. His expression darkened, and he flatly refused with a stern face:

“You’re older now. You can sleep by yourself.”

“Oh.” Celoa retracted his body into the covers with disappointment. He was sensible enough not to cry or make a fuss, which actually made one feel even more sorry for him.

The two exited the room, pulling the door shut behind them.

Celine stepped forward and sidled up to Droville. She didn’t believe a word he said; he was famous for being duplicitous. She teased, “O Most Blushing Lord Demon King, can you really find the heart to refuse such a cute child’s request?”

Droville quickened his pace. For some reason, he chose to flee. He gave a perfunctory hum but offered no clear answer.

However, as he walked, he suddenly stopped as if remembering something. He instructed Celine: “Since he’s allergic to ordinary food, we should choose something else.”

Celine found herself in a dilemma.

“Do you know exactly what he’s allergic to? We can’t keep testing new foods every time; he’ll suffer too much.”

Droville was silent for a moment, appearing to be in deep thought. Then he spoke up as if casually mentioning it: “I recall the Butler has a lot of experience looking after children. Didn’t those few grow up under his care? Why don’t you ask him for a recipe?”

Celine instinctively countered, “That’s different. Back then, they ate the fruits that the Demon Realm only yields a few of every year…”

She suddenly realized, clicking her tongue inwardly. She shook her head and sighed: “I thought you didn’t care much for him, but it turns out you’re softer than I thought, considering his needs at every turn.”

“Fine, we’ll settle on Nutritional Fruits. It’s been a long time since a high-level demon had an infant; leaving them there is just a waste.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll go get them for you.” Celine clapped her hands and asked casually, “How many? Is ten enough? Three days should be enough for you to find the allergen.”

Droville remained silent, not responding, only staring at Celine gloomily. Celine felt a chill from his stare and shrunk her neck, tentatively raising the number.

“Maybe… fifteen?”

Droville still didn’t speak.

Celine’s eyes widened, and she nearly jumped. She shouted, “Droville, you’re something else! You’re taking advantage of the fact that I’m the one who has to ask the Butler to clear the accounts! Fifteen isn’t enough? Do you want the Butler to scold me to death?!”

Droville pressed his hand to his lips, his gaze wandering. He coughed awkwardly and said, “That’s not what I meant. Celoa is from the Human Realm and isn’t used to the Demon Realm’s environment. Ordinary food is full of dark elements. Without proper care, his allergic symptoms won’t subside. Nutritional Fruits are precious, but back then, those little brats each consumed 28…”

“Fine, stop talking!” Celine made a “stop” gesture and glared fiercely at Droville. “Twenty-eight. Not one more. If you add any more, I’ll hang myself at your door, or you can go ask the Butler yourself.”

Droville fell silent. It was impossible for him to go to the Butler, given that the old man was obsessed with pressuring him to get married and have children.

Having received her specific task, Celine hurried out. Droville stood alone in the office for a moment, letting out a sigh of relief only after confirming everyone had left.

He sat down, his thoughts drifting. Unconsciously, they landed on Celoa. The child’s soft request echoed in his ears. He felt his heart soften again. Thinking that it was Celoa’s first time here, he couldn’t find the heart to leave him alone all night.

However, he looked at the stack of pending work on his desk and ultimately chose to sit down. The lights tonight were destined to stay on until dawn.

Celoa lay in bed alone, staring up at the ceiling. Tiny points of light were scattered across it, twinkling like the night sky outside.

So warm, so comfortable.

He rolled over, but sleep eluded him. He missed Dro a bit but felt too embarrassed to disturb him. After agonizing for a long time, he chose the most unpretentious sleep aid: counting sheep.

“Um, one sheep, two sheep, three sheep…” he muttered softly. His voice echoed faintly in the room, sounding a bit eerie. Gradually, Celoa’s voice grew smaller until it was barely audible; he had managed to scare himself.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

Celoa poked his head out from the blankets. A rush of warm air emerged, carrying the scent of life. Having hidden for so long, his fair cheeks were pressed red. His eyes stared at the door with alertness, as if watching for some super-invincible monster.

“Who… who are you?”

He asked with forced courage, his voice trembling piteously.

The person at the door didn’t answer, only knocked again with patience. Celoa pricked up his ears but heard nothing else.

The two sides reached a stalemate for a moment. Finally, Celoa gave in. He wrapped himself in the quilt and cautiously shuffled to the door, pressing his ear against it to listen. Knock, knock, knock.

“I’m opening the door for you, okay? Don’t scare me. I’m a very brave child. I’m not afraid of you.” Celoa muttered softly to himself, bolstering his courage as he fumbled with the lock. He clumsily got it open and pulled the door ajar just a tiny crack, thinking he was being stealthy.

He tried looking up, wanting to see the visitor’s face.

But to his confusion and unease, there was no one. No matter how high he looked, he saw no shadow of a person.

Suddenly, something lightly brushed past his calf.

Celoa lunged back several steps, a suppressed scream escaping his lips. The quilt wrapped around him restricted his movement. He lost his balance, his feet tangling together like rope. He couldn’t stay upright.

Caught off guard, Celoa fell forward onto the floor. His nose touched something very light and soft.

He raised his eyes and looked straight into a pair of violet eyes.

A black cat sat regally before him, watching his disheveled state as it elegantly licked its paw.