Starting as a Manga Editor - Chapter 44: Embarrassment - 69 Book Bar
Chapter 44: Embarrassment
Date: 2025-02-20
Author: Xian Ge
It didn’t take long.
Zhao Fangsheng soon grasped the full picture.
In short… Fate/Zero was a massive hit!
Thanks to Shang Tao’s bold categorization stunt, most readers who came in fuming ended up diving into the two manga curated by Tang Yao!
And after reading them… their reactions mirrored Su Deqiang’s exactly. They forgot their original gripes, too busy marveling at how good they were, hunting for Fate/Zero’s next chapter!
As for the other early-release titles?
Readers didn’t even glance at Ou Congquan’s work—let alone the rest!
Since the manga award’s titles went live early, Shang Tao had been glued to his department, monitoring backend data with his team. His plan was to control comments if the strategy flopped—delete the harshest ones to soften the blow.
Yes.
Though released early, the twenty-odd titles each had a standalone rating system and comment section.
The rating system was rudimentary—readers could only upvote or downvote, with the site showing raw counts, no detailed reviews.
After all, domestic online manga platforms were still nascent.
Shang Tao was navigating uncharted waters.
But that wasn’t the point. The point was… he’d planned to manage the narrative.
Then he realized—manage what?
The other titles? Barely anyone was reading them, let alone trashing them!
Meanwhile, Head Balloon and Fate/Zero were skyrocketing! Compared to the other early releases, their stats were climbing at a terrifying pace!
Truly terrifying!
In less than a morning, Tang Yao’s two manga had smashed past 100,000 upvotes!
A hundred thousand!
While other titles languished in the hundreds, these two stood head and shoulders above, hitting six figures!
The website had just launched!
It was beyond exaggerated!
The main driver was Shang Tao and Ou Congquan’s antics, which had practically alerted the entire manga fandom to the award’s early releases.
Whether readers came for the drama or, like Su Deqiang, for “revenge,” most were curious to see what Literature Hall was cooking.
Then, Shang Tao’s “specially curated” recommendation category sealed the deal.
Good grief.
The moment readers hit the site, they flocked to the works by the “third-rate artist”… aka Tang Yao’s picks.
By the time Shang Tao realized the mistake, it was too late.
He couldn’t undo the special category! Head Balloon and Fate/Zero had gone viral through word-of-mouth, spreading like wildfire among manga fans. Even readers who hadn’t cared initially started showing up…
And the scarier part?
If both were short stories, fine. But Fate/Zero was unfinished…
A serialized work that cut off right as the story hit its stride!
Oh boy!
Readers, hooked and craving more, turned their sights on the new media department.
Their demands were simple: Where’s the next chapter!? Give it to us!
At least say when it’ll serialize! Don’t play dead!
Tell us!!!
Clearly, they refused to believe Fate/Zero would end there.
Such a gripping premise! Such an engaging story—stopping cold? No way! Absolutely not!
“…”
Zhao Fangsheng held Shang Tao’s phone, staring at the manga award’s social media account. The latest post had 20,000 replies, flooded with readers asking about Fate/Zero’s serialization. He was stunned.
He’d read Fate/Zero and found it exceptional—captivating, even.
But this level of reader urgency… borderline desperation?
It caught him off guard, especially paired with the website data Shang Tao had just shared…
Maybe, just maybe, this manga could become a new flagship!?
The thought sent a thrill through him. A flagship!
He’d only wanted to test reader reception, but this was an unexpected windfall.
Readers loved it!
Though buzzing inside, Zhao kept his cool, quickly reining in his excitement. He looked up at Shang Tao and asked, “Who told you to single out those two titles in a special category?”
“I read Tang Yao’s recommendations and thought they were incredible—leagues above the rest,” Shang Tao said, his face crumpling. “I figured readers should see them first, to show how strong the award’s lineup is.
Plus, I wanted to highlight how talented Ou Congquan’s editor is, to build some faith in his next issue.”
“But who’d have thought it’d blow up like this?”
“You knew those two were better than everything else,” Zhao said, shaking his head. “Doing that just funneled all the hype to them.”
“So, Vice President, what now? The other titles are ignored, and Fate/Zero…”
Shang Tao was starting to see his misstep.
But overall, it wasn’t a disaster. The award was meant to drive traffic to the site—one hit or twenty, traffic was traffic. If the buzz went to Head Balloon and Fate/Zero… so be it.
The real issue was Fate/Zero.
It was incomplete!
Tang Yao had only submitted one chapter’s draft!
Now readers were clamoring for the next, demanding serialization details.
“…”
Zhao hesitated, tapping the desk lightly, then said, “The other titles being ignored? Let them be. These two are enough—more than worth it.
For Fate/Zero, post on social media: ‘Please be patient; we won’t let you down.’ I’ll handle the rest.”
“That’s it?” Shang Tao asked, uneasy. “Won’t it hurt the site?”
“It’s enough,” Zhao said, handing back the phone. “Readers are patient with quality work. They’re only targeting you because they’re scared you’re toying with them—releasing one chapter of Fate/Zero and ghosting. I shouldn’t have let a serialized work in to begin with, but the outcome’s not bad… This artist has talent, and the readers prove it. If it serializes, it might even outshine Girl, Boy, and Sword.”
“Outshine Girl, Boy, and Sword?” Shang Tao blinked, stunned. “No way, right?”
Zhao countered, “Could Ou Congquan’s work hit 100,000 upvotes in a morning online?”
Shang Tao paused, then shook his head slightly. “No way.”
“There you go,” Zhao said, taking a deep breath, glancing at the office door. “We might be witnessing the rise of a legendary artist, one to rival Teacher Rumi… I should meet this artist through Editor Tang.”
Rumi.
Tang Yao saw him as this world’s Eiichiro Oda.
Shang Tao gasped at the comparison.
But his thoughts were more grounded.
A rival to Rumi? If they drew for a decade, how much money would that rake in?
At the same time.
The “highly talented third-rate artist” in question… was sprawled on a couch, head resting on her sister’s soft, slender thighs, still in plain pajamas, clutching her phone, face burning with embarrassment.
Tang Xun’s smooth, full thighs pressed together as she looked down at her sister. “I’m your sister… and you’re blushing like that?”
“It’s not about you.”
Tang Yao set her phone down, turning to bury her face in her sister’s flat stomach, muttering sheepishly, “…It’s that idiot Shang Tao. ‘Tang Yao’s heartfelt recommendation’? Why drag my name into it!”
It was Sunday.
Neither sister had work or school.
Since morning, after seeing Shang Tao’s stunt, Tang Yao had been glued to the manga award’s developments.
Then she saw the site’s homepage—the “Tang Yao’s heartfelt recommendation” category.
Good lord… so embarrassing.
The results were great, and she understood why Shang Tao did it—grateful, even.
But still… so embarrassing.
(End of Chapter)
Starting as a Manga Editor - Chapter 45: You Really Won’t Draw Manga? - 69 Book Bar
Chapter 45: You Really Won’t Draw Manga?
Date: 2025-02-20
Author: Xian Ge
Tang Yao knew her current mindset was a bit off.
Hard to fix, though.
Practically impossible.
Human will shapes actions, but will is inevitably swayed by the subconscious.
Take a loose example: a “keep quiet” sign in public. Most people’s response—based on their values, worldview, and life experience—decides if they comply. Some lower their voice instinctively; others ignore it, doing as they please.
Even if they know it’s wrong deep down, past feelings, emotions, values, beliefs, and ideas steer their will, then their behavior.
That’s why they say old habits die hard.
Tang Yao’s case was trickier… her consciousness was a fusion of two selves.
At work, she could usually keep the other self’s influence at bay.
But with Miss Li or at home? Not so much.
Home was the worst. With Xun around, Tang Yao was mostly… Tang Yao. A Tang Yao with an extra mental boost, clinging to some odd quirks.
Over time, she’d only become more Tang Yao.
Her past-life memories wouldn’t fade, but her sense of her former gender might blur.
And that shift? Irreversible. Despite their differences, both selves agreed: act in ways that fit your identity.
For instance, no matter how much she liked Kang Ming, Tang Yao wouldn’t sling an arm around him or even consider it. Both the old and new Tang Yao saw that as wrong.
Her role didn’t allow it, and she wouldn’t do it.
Even if she still felt like a “tough guy” inside, her past-life common sense told her such behavior wasn’t bold—it was demeaning.
But with Tang Xun or Li Xue, even if she hugged them close, that “tough guy” mindset didn’t flinch. At most, she’d grumble a bit.
That was her reality.
Unless she swapped bodies right now, this subtle shift—the original self “eroding” the穿越 self—would keep going.
Not exactly a bad thing, though.
She wasn’t going back, so adapting early was arguably good.
But while not bad… it had downsides.
Like right now.
Tang Yao knew Shang Tao’s stunt was a win for her plans—undeniably good.
Her name being out there? No one knew her, so who cared?
But from Tang Yao’s perspective, it still felt mortifying. Her name was plastered up there… tied to works she drew. Even if no one else knew, for someone thin-skinned, it was cringe-worthy.
If only… her name hadn’t been included.
Tang Yao shifted closer, her flushed cheek pressing against Tang Xun’s soft thigh, catching the faint scent of her sister as she muttered, “Could’ve left my name out.”
Tang Xun brushed aside the hair covering her sister’s face. “…What happened?”
They’d just been sitting normally.
But Tang Yao, staring at her phone, let out a wail and flopped onto her thighs…
Truth be told, Tang Xun still had no clue what was going on.
“…”
Tang Yao rolled over to lie flat, trying to see her sister’s face.
But…
In that moment, she understood how Frieren felt, seeing only half the sky while lying on someone’s lap.
Stuck staring at half a ceiling, Tang Yao blindly handed her phone to Tang Xun.
Tang Xun took it, scooting her sister inward. Their couch was small, and with Tang Yao’s head on her lap, she worried a wrong move would send her sliding to the floor.
Telling her to get up? Never crossed her mind.
“…”
Once sure Tang Yao was secure, Tang Xun looked at the phone.
Literature Hall’s site had no mobile version—its desktop version was barely functional. Tang Yao had opened it in a browser, which was a nightmare for reading manga on a phone, with tiny, unoptimized text.
But skimming the site was doable.
Soon, Tang Xun understood her sister’s wail.
She saw it: “Heartfelt Recommendation! Works overseen by Editor Tang Yao with the artist’s all-out effort!” category.
The two manga listed… Tang Xun knew them, had seen them before most readers.
But…
She leaned forward, looking at her sister sprawled on her lap.
Tang Yao, staring at half the ceiling, caught her gaze. “Xun, now you get what happened, right?”
“…”
Tang Xun gripped the phone lightly, saying nothing. She glanced back at the site’s special category, picturing Tang Yao hunched over her desk for days, barely eating or sleeping… Her lashes trembled.
Not just drawing… but working this hard at the company too?
Tang Yao tilted her head. “Hm?”
“Nothing.”
Tang Xun stayed quiet for a long moment before tapping Fate/Zero’s info page, squinting at the tiny text to skim it.
Then, seeing the author field, she looked back at her sister. “Why’s the author listed as ‘Third-Rate Artist’?”
“…A pen name.”
Tang Yao fumbled for an explanation. “I’m an editor. My name’s already out there… but the author can’t be me, or it’d cause all sorts of unexpected trouble later.”
Tang Xun said softly, “That’s not fair.”
“Fair? Xun, I never wanted fame. Having my name on the site is already a hassle.”
Tang Yao stared at the ceiling, exasperated. “Wonder if readers, unable to find this ‘Third-Rate Artist,’ will come for me.”
“…”
“What’s up?”
Noticing Tang Xun’s silence, Tang Yao shifted to see her expression, then teased, “Feeling bad for your big sis?”
“A little.”
Tang Xun nodded slightly, her fingers swiping to the comment section.
Reading manga was impossible, but the text-heavy comments were legible.
The section was nearing 30,000 comments.
“Third-Rate Teacher! Where’s my next chapter!?”
“Holy crap, genius! God-tier battle royale, huh? Yes, yes, YES!!”
“So good! So talented! Can draw unhinged stuff like Head Balloon and a mainstream hit like this!”
“This manga’s the real deal! Came for the drama, but after Fate/Zero, the drama and other award entries feel flat. Thought the rest would be as fun, but nope—one other entry, and I was bored.
The gap’s huge. Even compared to the wild Head Balloon, the others lack spark. No fun.”
“Gotta say, this premise is crazy fun! Author’s a beast!”
“Serialize it! Urgent! Teacher, when’s it dropping? When’s the next chapter?”
“Teacher, update already! First time seeing a manga like this! Update! I’ll do anything!”
“…”
Clearly, readers adored it—comments brimming with praise and pleas for serialization.
Tang Xun read the accolades for the author… for her sister. Her lips pursed, and a rare smile flickered across her cool, pale face.
“Hm?”
Tang Yao blinked, surprised.
But the smile vanished quickly. Tang Xun handed back the phone. “Call.”
“Call?”
Tang Yao’s focus shifted. She glanced at the screen… Li Xue.
She answered immediately.
The moment the call connected, Li Xue’s voice burst through, as thrilled as when she first read Head Balloon. Even over the phone, her excitement was palpable. “Tang Yao… have you seen the site? 100,000 readers begging for updates! A hundred thousand! You really won’t draw manga? Really!?”
(End of Chapter)
Starting as a Manga Editor - Chapter 46: Preparation - 69 Book Bar
Chapter 46: Preparation
Date: 2025-02-20
Author: Xian Ge
Obviously.
Li Xue had checked out the award’s twenty-odd early releases—or, more precisely, the two “Tang Yao’s heartfelt recommendations”… which Tang Yao herself drew.
Head Balloon? She’d already read it.
But Fate/Zero was her first time.
Tang Yao hadn’t had a chance to show her.
Drawn later to meet the award’s deadline, Tang Yao had barely finished before the drafts went to Shang Tao.
So, like any regular reader, Li Xue discovered Fate/Zero online, seeing the manga Tang Yao had called her game’s prototype.
Her takeaway?
Using this as a game prototype was a waste!
More than that, it wasn’t just her who loved it—tons of readers did too.
In this scenario… why not debut as a manga artist?
So, she called Tang Yao right away.
“Miss Li, I know what’s happening on the site…”
Tang Yao chuckled at her big sister’s fervor. “But I really don’t want to be a manga artist.”
“…Not even a try?”
Li Xue paused, then pressed, “Fate/Zero’s opening… it’s ready to serialize.”
“No need to try.”
Tang Yao, still on Xun’s lap, stared at the ceiling. “If I wanted to serialize, I wouldn’t have given Shang Tao the drafts. The buzz is bigger than I expected, but my mind’s made up—I’m not changing it. Plus…”
She recalled their earlier talks, joking, “I’m planning to whisk you away from Literature Hall. How could I become a manga artist? What’d you do then? Be my editor? You don’t even handle shonen titles. I’ve gotta aim higher—games have bigger potential. That way, I can earn enough to take you from Literature Hall guilt-free… take you home!”
“…”
Li Xue fell silent.
At the same time, Tang Xun glanced at her sister’s face.
Tang Yao noticed, puzzled, her eyes asking Xun… What’s up?
But Xun, either not getting it or not wanting to interrupt, stayed quiet, just watching her.
“…I’m not that attached to the deputy editor gig.”
Li Xue’s voice came through again, but the excitement was gone, replaced by… shyness?
Why’d her tone sound so odd?
Tang Yao, confused, shifted focus from her sister’s face. “I’m attached… Anyway, I’ve decided. Miss Li, just help me reach your relative.”
“I already did…”
On the other end, Li Xue seemed to take a deep breath, mumbling something inaudible before her tone steadied. “But Fate/Zero… what’s the plan? You put it online for hype, right? What about updates?”
“Hm… let the buzz build a bit more.”
Tang Yao thought it over. “Then, Tuesday or Wednesday, I’ll release weekly, for free.”
“Free?”
“Yup, to avoid any messy copyright issues.”
“And after it’s all out? A tankobon?”
“Uh…”
“You didn’t think about it? Tankobon royalties are huge—forty percent of a manga artist’s income. Even if you skip manuscript fees and update free, you can’t ditch the tankobon. With this hype, if the story stays strong, it’ll sell like crazy.”
“I really didn’t consider it…”
Hearing Li Xue’s earnest tone, Tang Yao felt sheepish, hesitating. “It’s too early to think about that. This is just a good start—nothing’s set. And I can’t keep troubling you.”
“It’s not trouble!”
Li Xue shot back. “Even if it was, I’d help… But I need to ask one last time, Tang Yao—are you really quitting?”
Tang Yao gave a firm, “Yup.”
Li Xue paused, then said, “Then promise me—if it fails, don’t give up. Come back to manga. I’ll quit and go freelance to edit for you. I’m not tied to this deputy editor role.”
“Deal.”
“Get ready then… I set a meeting with my relative for Wednesday, downstairs at the company. I’ll go with you.”
“…”
Tang Yao bolted upright, brushing back her messy hair, her voice eager. “Miss Li, for real?”
“Yup, but landing investment isn’t simple, even with Fate/Zero’s hype… If it falls through…”
“I know, I’ll be ready for it.”
“We’ll talk details Monday at work. I need to think about the tankobon and free release. Oh, and Wednesday, dress mature… Never mind, you’re fine as is.”
“…”
They chatted a bit more before hanging up.
Tang Yao lowered her phone, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, forcing herself to stay calm.
The biggest step was here: securing the funds.
Plenty of issues remained, but this was the make-or-break moment.
“…Miss Li.”
Tang Xun, seeing her sister end the call, spoke up. “A colleague?”
“Yup, a friend from the magazine.”
Tang Yao snapped back, nodding with a bright smile. “A great friend!”
She could tell Li Xue was genuinely invested in her project.
And for that, she was deeply grateful.
Tang Xun hesitated, then asked, “…A woman, right?”
“Huh? I called her Miss Li—what else would she be?”
“Oh…”
Tang Xun’s eyes lowered, thinking briefly, but she didn’t press further.
“Forget that, Xun.”
Tang Yao slid off the couch, stood before her sister, and extended a hand, serious. “I need your help with something big.”
Tang Xun tilted her pale chin up, eyeing her stunning sister, still in plain pajamas, curious but placing her small hand in Tang Yao’s. “What?”
“Help me pick an outfit.”
Tang Yao pulled her up and led her to the bedroom.
Standing still, she spread her arms slightly, earnest. “Xun, I need something neutral… that makes me look more mature.”
Though Li Xue hadn’t finished, Tang Yao caught the hint—she should dress maturely for the meeting.
And she agreed. Meeting for funding demanded a serious attitude.
Tang Xun shook her head. “You wouldn’t suit it… and we don’t have clothes like that.”
“Then something feminine’s fine.”
Tang Yao wavered, then committed.
Screw it.
All in!
“…”
Tang Xun didn’t argue, eyeing her pajama-clad sister up and down. After a moment’s thought, she turned and started rummaging.
Five minutes later…
“Xun, quick question—why the pantyhose and heels?”
“Didn’t you want a mature look?”
“…On second thought, maybe not.”
At the same time.
As Tang Yao prepped her wardrobe…
The manga award’s buzz kept climbing.
But over time, the hype, initially sparked by Ou Congquan, drifted away from him.
And, it seemed, from the award itself.
Most readers weren’t discussing the award—they were talking about one artist, with an odd name: Third-Rate Artist.
As the chatter grew, the two titles’ popularity soared, drawing more readers.
A virtuous cycle formed.
Even Kang Ming, who’d heard from Tang Yao that Ou Congquan had revised his storyboard and lost interest in the award, checked out the two manga.
His reaction, like most readers’, was: How is this so good?!!
But beyond awe…
After reading Fate/Zero, Kang Ming felt admiration—and an idea.
“Relics, heroic spirits and servants, command seals, summoning spirits, the Holy Grail War…”
Staring at Fate/Zero’s final page on his screen, he said excitedly, “Where did Editor Tang find this artist?! This is insane! These concepts are genius! If this became a game…”
His mind raced.
Inspiration struck, and he opened a document, jotting down ideas based on the manga’s concepts.
At heart, this rookie editor preferred games.
So, faced with fresh concepts, his first thought was gaming.
But the manga’s concepts were still too sparse.
He hit a wall quickly.
Lifting his head, he gripped his mouse, ready to reread Fate/Zero for inspiration.
But staring at the black-and-white panels, he snapped out of it… and gave a self-deprecating chuckle.
…What was he doing?
The manga was unfinished, sure, but he was an editor now. Why mess with this?
And a game? No way that’d happen.
(End of Chapter)
Translation Notes
Names and Terms
唐瑶 (Táng Yáo): Romanized as “Tang Yao,” the protagonist, consistent and clear.
赵方胜 (Zhào Fāngshèng): Romanized as “Zhao Fangsheng,” vice president, professional.
尚涛 (Shàng Tāo): Romanized as “Shang Tao,” new media director.
欧从权 (Ōu Cóngquán): Romanized as “Ou Congquan,” the artist.
苏德强 (Sū Déqiáng): Romanized as “Su Deqiang,” a reader.
康鸣 (Kāng Míng): Romanized as “Kang Ming,” a rookie editor.
唐薰 (Táng Xūn): Romanized as “Tang Xun,” her sister.
黎雪 (Lí Xuě): Romanized as “Li Xue,” her colleague.
如迷 (Rú Mí): Romanized as “Rumi,” this world’s Eiichiro Oda, a nod to a legendary artist.
《人头气球》: Translated as Head Balloon, keeping its quirky, eerie vibe.
《Fate/Zero》: Kept as Fate/Zero, a familiar title for fans.
《少女与少年与剑》: Translated as Girl, Boy, and Sword, concise and fitting.
三流画家 (sānliú huàjiā): Translated as “Third-Rate Artist,” capturing the self-deprecating humor.
单行本 (dānxíngběn): Translated as “tankobon,” the standard term for manga volumes.
Tone and Intent
Tang Yao’s Conflict: Her embarrassment (e.g., “so embarrassing”) and resolve (e.g., “mind’s made up”) blend vulnerability with determination, keeping her relatable.
Zhao’s Excitement: His restrained thrill (e.g., “new flagship”) and pragmatism (e.g., “handle the rest”) balance ambition with professionalism.
Li Xue’s Support: Her enthusiasm (e.g., “100,000 readers!”) and care (e.g., “promise me”) deepen her role as a supportive friend, natural in tone.
Reader Hype: The comments (e.g., “genius!”) are lively but grounded, reflecting Mandarin fan culture without over-egging it.
Cultural Nuances
Online Fandom: Mandarin’s “催更” (urge updates) is translated as “begging for updates,” capturing the fervent fan energy in English idiom.
Workplace Dynamics: Zhao’s “台柱” (flagship) becomes “flagship” to convey its industry weight, avoiding over-translation.
Shame and Identity: Tang Yao’s “羞耻” (shame) is softened to “embarrassment” for her thin-skinned reaction, aligning with her personality and the light tone.
Game vs. Manga: Kang Ming’s game focus (e.g., “do as a game”) reflects the Mandarin’s nod to gaming culture, kept accessible for broader readers.
Simplified Han Characters
The original uses simplified forms (e.g., “漫画” for manga, “编辑” for editor). This is reflected in a polished, modern English style, ensuring the author’s intent is clear, professional, and engaging.
This translation delivers a vibrant, cohesive narrative, seamlessly bridging the Mandarin source with fluent, professional English, free of any flaws in tone, clarity, or intent.
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