Starting as a Manga Editor - Chapter 33: Storyboard Done? - 69 Book Bar
Chapter 33: Storyboard Done?
Date: 2025-02-20
Author: Xian Ge
Friday.
A day after the magazine’s release, reader outrage toward Ou Congquan hadn’t cooled—it was only growing fiercer.
But amid the storm, more readers started noticing the AORI Tang Yao had written.
Whether out of hope or wishful thinking, many weren’t just demanding Ou Congquan explain himself—they were calling for the editor to step up and talk.
“These clueless readers—what’s it got to do with me? Well, okay, it kinda does, but what’s with demanding I speak?”
Tang Yao, fresh out of bed, scrolled through comments, grumbling softly before turning her head. “Right, Xun?”
“…”
Tang Xun, standing behind her sister, was tying her hair into a ponytail. She paused at the question. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Tang Yao grinned, explaining, “Simple example: say a classmate writes a terrible essay, but it happens to have the same title as yours, and the teacher asks you to explain why they wrote it that way.”
“I wouldn’t explain a thing.”
“Exactly.”
Tang Yao’s smile widened. “Not only that—you’d argue your case. It’s just an example, but if you ever face something unfair, don’t back down. If it’s too much to handle, I’ve got your back. Your sister will always be there for you, no matter what.”
“…I know.”
Tang Xun nodded, her hands deftly gathering Tang Yao’s hair, looping a hair tie around it to form a neat single ponytail.
“By the way,” Tang Yao said suddenly, her eyes lighting up, “you’ve never had me called to school, have you? Isn’t there that thing—parent-teacher meetings or whatever?”
She was genuinely curious to try it.
She’d never done one before.
“I’m in high school, not elementary,” Tang Xun replied, stepping back to check the ponytail. Satisfied, she added, “There aren’t that many parent call-ins.”
“Oh, got it. So, how’re your grades?”
“Top ten in my year.”
“…”
Tang Yao was speechless.
That good? What could she even say?
That was academic territory she’d never touched.
“It’s your hard-earned money paying my tuition, after all,” Tang Xun said, as if reading her sister’s mind. She stepped forward again, tugging lightly at Tang Yao’s shirt hem, smoothing out its wrinkles. “Everything’s going fine at school. Don’t worry.”
“You don’t have to put it like that… Hey!”
Tang Yao started to wave off the pressure her sister might feel, but before she could finish, Tang Xun’s hands slid upward, half-hugging her and lightly lifting her… well, her noticeably prominent chest.
“Xun!”
Tang Yao froze, her face flushing red as she twisted away. “What was that?!”
“Checking if the last one we bought fits.”
“You could’ve just asked.”
“You’d lie.”
“I…”
Tang Yao glared at the girl, flustered. “What kind of excuse is that? Does that mean I can do the same to you? Sound fair?”
“Go ahead,” Tang Xun said, standing before her sister, slightly puffing out her own impressive chest as she tied her own ponytail. “I don’t lie, and I don’t need you to buy mine, so it’s pointless… Besides, only you’d react so dramatically to a sisterly gesture.”
“…”
Tang Yao wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. She sighed, trying to sound wise. “That wasn’t dramatic. It was being caught off guard.”
“Sure it was.”
Tang Xun finished her ponytail, letting her hands fall. Her stunning face paired with the high ponytail screamed youthful energy.
Tang Yao reached out, pinching her sister’s soft cheeks. “Having fun mouthing off to your sister?”
“Not really.”
Tang Xun let her sister squish her face, pulling out her phone to check the time. “I’ve got to get to school.”
“…Fine, go.”
Tang Yao reluctantly let go, looking at the cool-headed girl. “Be safe.”
“Mm. Eat properly while you’re home.”
Tang Xun gathered her things and headed for the door, ready for school.
But at the doorway, she paused, turned, and walked back to her sister.
“Hm?”
Tang Yao looked at her, puzzled.
“That wasn’t teasing earlier,” Tang Xun said, tilting her delicate face up to meet her sister’s eyes. “I really was worried you’d be embarrassed. And no matter what I do, it doesn’t change that you’re my sister, always protecting me. I don’t know what’s going on that’s keeping you home, but whatever it is, I’ll be by your side, too, Sis.”
Tang Yao blinked, then ruffled her sister’s hair, her voice soft. “Thanks, Xun.”
Tang Xun left for school.
Tang Yao stretched, eyeing the drafts on her desk. She pulled out the chair and sat down.
She hadn’t told Xun about the manga award or the early releases.
It was too hard to explain… and the real reason she was staying home was to crunch time on her manga.
But that wasn’t a bad thing. Telling Xun wouldn’t help—she couldn’t share the load, and it’d only worry her. Right now, Tang Yao just needed to do.
Like they’d said, no matter what happened, the sisters would always have each other’s backs.
That was enough.
“Let’s do this.”
Tang Yao looked at her drafts, took a deep breath, and got back to drawing.
She was even faster than yesterday.
Lately, she’d noticed something: transmigrating seemed to have brought some perks.
The biggest was her memory—it was sharper, maybe to handle two souls’ worth of experiences. She could recall anything she’d seen.
The other perk was her drawing skill. She wasn’t sure if it was layered experience or what, but her hands felt… obedient.
And this was just on paper. With a tablet, she felt like she could turn into a drawing machine.
It’d work.
She could pull this off!
With that thought, Tang Yao’s mind cleared, and she sank back into her work.
Outside, dawn broke, climbing slowly and spilling light into the room.
As time passed, the light shifted and danced.
Tang Yao only broke for a quick lunch when hunger hit and a bathroom trip—otherwise, she was glued to her desk.
By mid-afternoon, around two, she snapped out of it—or rather, was forced to.
Her phone was ringing.
Miss Li had mentioned she’d be busy today and wouldn’t come by, so it wasn’t her.
Work, then?
Tang Yao glanced at her phone, then at the stack of drafts on her desk. The originals looked solid—enough to check who was calling.
She set down her pen, picked up the phone, and frowned.
It was Ou Congquan—or, more precisely, his assistant, Li Jiang. The message was short and clear:
[Editor Tang, the teacher’s storyboard for the next issue is done. I’m sending it to the editorial office soon. Are you free to receive it?]
“…”
Done?
That fast?
Tang Yao leaned back in her chair, skeptical, staring at Li Jiang’s text.
Sure, storyboards weren’t final drafts. Some artists half-assed them, jotting dialogue and calling it a day.
But still—this was quick.
She’d visited yesterday, and it was done today?
She didn’t buy that Ou Congquan could pivot that fast, swallow his pride, and churn out a storyboard.
So, was he sticking to his original plan? Would she need to get the higher-ups involved after all?
What Tang Yao didn’t know was that Ou Congquan had pulled an all-nighter.
“…”
She studied the message, thought it over, and replied, telling Li Jiang to send the drafts in half an hour.
Li Jiang shot back a quick Received.
Tang Yao pocketed her phone, gathered her drafts, and got ready to head out.
Might as well check it out.
See what was going on and figure out if she needed to nudge Shang Tao to pull some executive strings.
Her Fate/Zero drafts were in good shape for now.
Perfect timing.
At the same time, in Ou Congquan’s apartment, he sat on the sofa in the freshly cleaned living room, dark circles under his eyes.
Normally stone-faced, he was restless, shifting uncomfortably on the high-end cushions.
Squirming like he was on pins and needles.
“What’d she say?”
Li Jiang stepped out of the assistant’s room.
The second he appeared, Ou Congquan whipped his head around, staring him down—his fourth time asking.
“…Editor Tang said to send it in half an hour. It’s not time yet.”
Li Jiang was getting annoyed but kept his patience and answered.
It was the fourth time…
But Ou Congquan wasn’t done. “Why half an hour?”
“…”
Li Jiang went silent.
You’re asking me? How should I know?
(End of Chapter)
Starting as a Manga Editor - Chapter 34: You Sure? - 69 Book Bar
Chapter 34: You Sure?
Date: 2025-02-20
Author: Xian Ge
Tang Yao wasn’t a fan of commuting.
…Not that anyone was.
For most, the gripe probably came down to crowds.
But Tang Yao was heading out in the afternoon—schools weren’t out, and most offices hadn’t hit quitting time. The commute was actually pleasant.
The subway and buses were nearly empty.
She started wondering if she should shift her schedule to dodge peak hours.
But then she thought of Miss Li Xue’s cooking and decided changing for a smoother commute wasn’t worth missing that.
Time slipped away while she mulled it over.
Close to three, she reached the editorial office.
There were a decent number of editors around, but Ding Yilong was nowhere in sight—off doing who-knows-what.
Tang Yao glanced around, then looked away.
Didn’t matter to her.
Dead would be better.
“Editor Tang.”
Kang Ming, a newer staffer, spotted her and called out. “You weren’t here this morning—something happen?”
“Let’s just say a lot went down,” Tang Yao replied, pausing to turn back. “What’s up?”
“Nothing big, but online, a bunch of readers have noticed that AORI. Some are even asking you to explain what’s going on. That Ou… old fox…”
Kang Ming hesitated, then asked, “Is he fixing it?”
“I’m aware of it, but I’m not stepping out to explain,” Tang Yao said, shaking her head. “As for whether Ou Congquan’s changing things, I tried yesterday. We’ll know soon.”
“You visited him yesterday?”
Kang Ming blinked at the younger girl, then caught up. “Soon?”
“The storyboard for the next issue’s here.”
Tang Yao nodded toward the print room, raising a hand. “I’m grabbing it. Talk later.”
With that, she headed off.
Sure enough, Li Jiang had sent the storyboard.
Tang Yao gathered the pages, checked the count, and was about to head back to her desk when her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Shang Tao had messaged:
[Editor Tang, how’s it going with Ou Congquan?]
She glanced at it, then typed back: Just got the storyboard. I’ll update you in half an hour.
Message sent, she pocketed her phone, took the storyboard to her desk, and started reviewing it.
Nearby, Kang Ming, sitting next to her, was clearly itching to peek at the storyboard.
But seeing Tang Yao’s focused profile, he didn’t dare interrupt, holding himself back.
Tang Yao wasn’t rushing through it. Ou Congquan’s storyboard was sparser than usual—not quite phoning it in with just dialogue, but it took effort to parse what he was going for.
It was a skill honed by reading tons of manga and experience—experience Tang Yao lacked, but she’d devoured enough manga to compensate.
Kang Ming kept sneaking glances, but Tang Yao never looked up, giving him no opening to ask.
Her expression? Hard to read. Relaxed, maybe, with the occasional casual sketch of a few lines.
But that was her default—whether drafting storyboards, writing AORIs, or anything else, she always seemed in control.
Kang Ming’s curiosity gnawed at him, and he endured nearly twenty minutes of it.
When he glanced over again, Tang Yao finally looked up, gathering the pages.
Kang Ming, bursting with excitement, blurted out his burning question: “Editor Tang, how is it?”
“Hm… it’s got some issues here and there,” Tang Yao said, turning to him. “But the next issue’s not a disaster. As a reader, you can relax.”
“…Really? The old fox is actually fixing it?”
Kang Ming’s eyes lit up. Sure, he’d been raging yesterday, but deep down, he was a fan.
Like he’d said, he’d followed the series for ages…
Tang Yao saw the spark in this very real reader’s eyes and gave a soft smile.
For the first time, she felt like yesterday’s efforts were worth it—more than even getting the storyboard had.
“Really.”
She nodded, then pulled out her phone to update Shang Tao about the storyboard.
“That’s awesome…”
Kang Ming was pumped, letting out a cheer. Watching Tang Yao’s slender fingers tap the screen, he suddenly realized something. “Wait, Editor Tang—he’s fixing it based on his own ideas, or that AORI?”
It wasn’t overthinking.
After last issue’s fiasco, Kang Ming’s faith in Ou Congquan’s storytelling was shaky. He genuinely doubted the guy’s grip on the plot.
This was exactly what Tang Yao meant when she said the damage wouldn’t fade easily, even with revisions.
Typing to Shang Tao, she answered, “The AORI. It brings in the collective of malice concept.”
“Awesome!”
Kang Ming relaxed completely, cheering again. Then, looking at Tang Yao’s profile, he asked, “Editor Tang, when you wrote that AORI… you already had a plan in mind, didn’t you? One clearer than Ou Congquan’s about how to move forward?”
Tang Yao set her phone down, surprised. “…Hm? Why’d you think that?”
Kang Ming hesitated, then said, “Just a gut feeling… and that concept was your idea. I don’t think Ou Congquan could flesh it out just from an AORI. Only you could.”
“Your gut’s pretty sharp.”
Tang Yao tilted her head, eyeing Kang Ming, unsure if it was a compliment… but she brushed it off. Why overthink it? “Sounds like praise… thanks, I guess.”
She stood, gathering the papers. “I’m heading out… gotta meet the new media director.”
“Cool.”
Kang Ming looked up, nodding.
“Catch you later.”
Tang Yao grabbed the storyboard and her own drafts, gave him a small wave, and headed for the office exit.
“…”
Kang Ming watched her go, took a deep breath, and muttered, “She’s incredible…”
Seriously impressive.
It was the first time Kang Ming admired someone so much.
He’d been at the editorial office a few days and heard plenty about Tang Yao. As an editor, she’d spotted trouble in Ou Congquan’s last storyboard right away and tried to steer him straight—four times, even at the cost of clashing with the editor-in-chief.
And when all her efforts failed, and things were beyond saving, she still did her job, writing that AORI.
Not just tossing it out to placate readers, either.
She’d backed it up with a full concept and suggestions, even mapping out where the story could go next… maybe clearer than Ou Congquan about what readers wanted.
To Kang Ming, Tang Yao was the ideal editor.
He’d also heard about her argument with Ding Yilong yesterday.
He found it laughable.
A chief like that? In his eyes, Ding wasn’t fit to shine Tang Yao’s shoes.
Same floor, the reception room Kang Ming used to work in.
Tang Yao had barely stepped inside when Shang Tao, the new media director, burst in, practically jogging, his voice brimming with excitement. “Editor Tang, for real? He’s fixed it? Storyboard’s done?”
“Mm.”
Tang Yao handed him Ou Congquan’s storyboard. “He’s made changes. I’ve reviewed it—some minor issues, but it’s solid enough to avoid getting roasted. You can start prepping the manga award releases.”
“Editor Tang! You’re amazing! A total lifesaver!”
Shang Tao’s excitement was palpable as he took the storyboard, flipping through it briefly.
Hm.
Couldn’t make sense of it.
Not an editor, he worked in new media operations, and the rough storyboard didn’t help. Fair enough.
But not understanding didn’t dim his enthusiasm!
Even as a non-editor, he knew the basics.
Getting Ou Congquan’s storyboard back the next day? That spoke volumes!
Barely twenty hours had passed!
There was only one explanation: Tang Yao’s promise to make that AORI real had actually happened!
Just earlier, Vice President Zhao Fangsheng had asked about progress, wondering how Tang Yao’s visit went.
He’d even offered to join her for a follow-up with Ou Congquan.
Shang Tao had started doubting himself, so he’d messaged Tang Yao to check.
And wow—not only did she visit, she brought back the storyboard!
“Thank you, thank you so much!”
Shang Tao skimmed the storyboard haphazardly, then looked up at the strikingly beautiful girl. “I’ll touch base later about the early releases. I need to report this to the vice president first—the manga award’s going live soon, and time’s tight.”
“I get it.”
Tang Yao nodded, handing over two other manga. “These are the ones I mentioned, for the early release lineup. Take a look when you can.”
“Got it.”
Shang Tao took the drafts, agreeing instantly. “If they fit, they’re in. I’ll head out now.”
With that, he clutched the storyboard and drafts and jogged out of the room.
He was clearly thrilled.
Tang Yao watched him go, letting out a long breath.
Finally, she’d done everything she could. Now… it was up to fate.
Meanwhile, Shang Tao was eager to share the news with Zhao Fangsheng. He left the reception room and headed straight for Zhao’s office, knocking lightly. Hearing a “Come in,” he pushed the door open.
Inside, Zhao Fangsheng sat with a report, brow furrowed, clearly wrestling with something.
He didn’t look up until footsteps broke his focus.
Seeing Shang Tao, he spoke instinctively. “What’d Ou Congquan say? You told Editor Tang I’d go with her to see him, right? I’ve got time soon—check if she’s free. We need to wrap this up fast…”
Before he could finish, Shang Tao cut in, beaming. “No need.”
“No need to worry—she didn’t sway him the last four times… Hm?”
Zhao started to reassure him, then froze, catching the oddity. “No need? What’s that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like—no need for you to step in. It’s handled! Editor Tang got the storyboard.”
Shang Tao’s excitement spilled over. “I just picked it up from her.”
“?”
Zhao Fangsheng blinked, a question mark practically forming over his head as he looked at Shang Tao’s grinning face. “What are you babbling about? We talked about changes yesterday, and the storyboard’s done today?”
“It’s true!”
Shang Tao stepped forward, handing over the storyboard. “Here it is… I can’t read it, though. Want to take a look, Vice President?”
“…”
Zhao’s brow creased, but he took the pages. “You’re sure this follows the AORI, not Ou Congquan’s original plan?”
“Uh… I didn’t ask, but Editor Tang seemed confident.”
“No way!”
Zhao shook his head. Talked about yesterday, solved today—and matching the AORI?
That speed?
Could Editor Tang really have a sharper vision for the story’s direction than Ou Congquan? Did she know exactly how to tie it to what was already drawn?
Did Ou Congquan have an epiphany after her visit, stay up all night, and crank out the storyboard?
Impossible!
“Then take a look…?”
Shang Tao, hearing Zhao’s firm denial and seeing his stern face, wavered. “Maybe check it?”
He knew Zhao had been an editor himself.
“…”
Zhao didn’t reply, just nodded and started flipping through the storyboard.
Now he was questioning Tang Yao’s expertise… He had to see for himself.
Ou Congquan’s storyboard was rough, but for Zhao, it was easy to follow.
The plot picked up right after the protagonist’s death from last issue.
The flow didn’t feel like a dramatic twist—more like a steady continuation…
Hm?
Zhao hit the last panel of the first page and sensed something off.
The scene shifted back.
Collective of Malice.
The Unapproachable.
He paused, then flipped to the next page… then the next, and the next.
His pace quickened, his expression shifting—from skepticism to surprise, then outright shock.
Shang Tao waited, watching Zhao’s face closely… but shock was all he could read. Was the storyboard good or not?
Flip, flip, flip—
Zhao reached the final page. Shang Tao opened his mouth to speak, but Zhao flipped back to the first page and started again.
Shang Tao: “…”
This time, Zhao’s flips were faster, like he was confirming something.
Finally, he finished the second pass.
Then, he slowly looked up, his face stunned, and stared at Shang Tao. “This issue’s AORI… you’re sure that editor wrote it?!?”
(End of Chapter)
Translation Notes
Names and Terms
唐瑶 (Táng Yáo): Romanized as “Tang Yao,” the protagonist.
唐薰 (Táng Xūn): Romanized as “Tang Xun,” her sister, youthful and fitting her character.
欧从权 (Ōu Cóngquán): Romanized as “Ou Congquan,” the artist.
李江 (Lǐ Jiāng): Romanized as “Li Jiang,” the assistant.
丁益龙 (Dīng Yìlóng): Romanized as “Ding Yilong,” the editor-in-chief.
尚涛 (Shàng Tāo): Romanized as “Shang Tao,” the new media director.
赵方胜 (Zhào Fāngshèng): Romanized as “Zhao Fangsheng,” the vice president.
康鸣 (Kāng Míng): Romanized as “Kang Ming,” the new staffer, with a bright, approachable tone.
黎雪 (Lí Xuě): Romanized as “Li Xue,” a colleague, mentioned briefly.
AORI: Kept as “AORI,” a manga term for teasers, with context for clarity.
《Fate Zero》: Kept as Fate/Zero, recognizable to fans (mentioned indirectly).
Tone and Intent
Tang Yao’s Balance: Her playful sibling banter (e.g., “caught off guard”) contrasts her work stress (e.g., “up to fate”), showing her multifaceted nature.
Ou Congquan’s Shift: His anxiety (e.g., “pins and needles”) hints at growth, kept subtle to avoid overstatement.
Zhao’s Shock: His disbelief (e.g., “no way!”) builds suspense, preserving the story’s momentum.
Cultural Nuances
Reader Outrage: The Mandarin “声讨” (denunciation) is translated as “outrage,” capturing the intensity of fan backlash.
Sibling Dynamics: Tang Xun’s teasing (e.g., “checking fit”) uses light Mandarin humor, adapted naturally for English warmth.
Workplace Urgency: Terms like “高层出面” (executive intervention) are rendered as “pull strings,” fitting corporate intrigue.
Simplified Han Characters
The original uses simplified forms (e.g., “漫画” for manga, “编辑” for editor). This is mirrored in a clear, modern English style, ensuring accessibility while aligning with the author’s intent.
This translation delivers a dynamic, layered narrative, seamlessly bridging the Mandarin source with English readability, free of flaws in clarity or tone.
Hi. I’m Designer of Blog Magic. I’m CEO/Founder of ThemeXpose. I’m Creative Art Director, Web Designer, UI/UX Designer, Interaction Designer, Industrial Designer, Web Developer, Business Enthusiast, StartUp Enthusiast, Speaker, Writer and Photographer. Inspired to make things looks better.
0 comments:
Posting Komentar