Starting as a Manga Editor-Chapter 18: Wenxin Manga Award

Although Tang Yao strongly suspected her little sister had done it on purpose, she had no proof—so she let it go for now.
After helping her measure, Tang Kaoru brought her a glass of water and simply said, “Sleep early,” before heading off to bed.
Tang Yao switched off the main light, turned on the desk lamp, and continued preparing for her first bucket of gold.
Honestly, situations like what just happened weren’t rare in her memories. Even though Kaoru always wore a cold expression and acted like nothing mattered, the girl's thoughts weren’t that hard to guess. Probably because she felt she couldn’t help with money right now, she tried her best to support her sister in daily life—food, clothes, all that.
All those tiny, tedious things—things both the old Tang Yao and the current Tang Yao had always ignored or brushed off—Kaoru remembered, and quietly acted on them in her own subtle way. It wasn’t the most affectionate, but it worked—especially on Tang Yao.
What could she say? Whether it was the current or previous Tang Yao… she just wasn’t good at handling those kinds of things.
After all, it wasn’t easy for a girl in her twenties to support herself and a younger sister.
The fact that she’d made it this far without breaking down was already a miracle.
She simply didn’t have the time or energy for anything that didn’t directly improve their lives.
Tang Yao could feel her sister’s care, but it only made her more determined to cut out distractions… and fueled her desire to make money.
In a way—
Tang Yao wasn’t even sure if her obsession with making money came from the current her… or from the soul that used to be here.
“Well… guess it doesn’t matter.”
She reached out and rubbed the warm rim of her cup, smiling softly as she thought about the little comedic moment that had just played out between the sisters.
She didn’t know what a soul really was. If it was just a collection of memories—
Then the current her was Tang Yao.
So whose thoughts they were didn’t matter. The goal was the same.
To make money.
“Back to drawing.”
Tang Yao took a sip of water, then began thinking about Fate/Zero’s storyboarding.
The desk lamp stayed on until 2 a.m.
Tang Yao finally put down her pencil and stretched her stiff body, letting out a long exhale before switching off the light.
Even though the room was small, it had a window—and it faced the balcony.
At that moment, moonlight streamed in through the window.
Tang Yao turned around and walked over to the bunk bed under the faint moonlight. She looked down at the lower bunk.
The girl lay there quietly, her sleeping face peaceful and calm.
Tang Yao smiled and didn’t climb up right away. Instead, she squatted down and gently brushed aside the hair on Kaoru’s forehead, whispering, “Don’t worry. Your sister will make money.”
As she crouched there—
Moonlight spilled in from the window, wrapping around her and casting a thin, dreamlike glow over her fair and lovely face.
…
The next morning.
Unlike last time she stayed up late, Tang Yao surprisingly didn’t wake up with a headache.
In fact, it didn’t even feel like she’d stayed up.
She got out of bed full of energy, stretched happily, and headed out of the room.
Same as always—
Kaoru was already dressed in her school uniform, breakfast ready, waiting for her.
“Kaoru, you know, it’s okay to rest once in a while. You could just eat out—I can grab something on my way too.”
Tang Yao looked at the steaming bowl of century egg and lean pork congee on the table, then glanced at her sister who she didn’t even know what time had woken up. She hesitated before suggesting gently.
“……”
Kaoru looked up at her sister with an expression that clearly said, Are you serious right now?
Tang Yao saw the look on her face and hesitated again—then decided not to press the issue.
The two of them finished breakfast and left together.
The walk was quiet.
When Tang Yao arrived at the editorial office, she noticed the place was busier than yesterday—even the two editors who managed night owl mangaka were present.
But since she didn’t know them well, she just gave a simple nod in greeting.
Truthfully, she wasn’t familiar with anyone in the entire editorial department…
You could tell just from the fact that her first friend was Li Xue.
She wasn’t the type to push people away.
Even on the chaotic first day, she hadn’t resisted talking to others. If anything, she was more used to dealing with men than she was chatting with someone like Miss Li.
But unfortunately, she probably showed up at the wrong time.
Right on day one, she was assigned the nightmare pair: Ou Congquan and the king of late submissions, Shao Changqing. Pretty soon, all the other editors were looking at her with sympathy, as if thinking she’s not gonna last long. The few times they did talk to her, it was mostly for her contact info—completely unrelated to work.
And back then, Tang Yao had been in a total mess emotionally. She spent her evenings just trying to hold herself together—no time for small talk.
Even if she had time, she wasn’t interested in shallow, forced conversations with obvious intentions.
So she missed the chance to build rapport with the others.
And after that… the chance never came back.
Because she clashed with Editor-in-Chief Ding Yilong.
Just like yesterday—she’d pointed out all the issues, one by one, and argued back without flinching. The fallout was pretty ugly.
And after that… even those pointless info requests stopped.
No one from the editorial team had tried talking to her again. She probably had a reputation now—for being “troublesome.”
Li Xue had tried explaining with terms like “ice queen,” “office politics,” and “unapproachable women,” but Tang Yao hadn’t really listened.
The end result?
She still didn’t know most of the people in the department.
But she had memorized most of their faces.
And clearly, something was up this morning—so many people arriving early couldn’t be a coincidence.
Sure enough—
Just as she sat down, Ding Yilong arrived. He seemed in decent shape today—not obviously hungover—but still wore a nasty expression. And as soon as he walked in, he shot her a glare.
Tang Yao glared right back. Not backing down an inch.
What’re you glaring at?
If I did something wrong, say it.
You think you can intimidate me?
On the other side—
Ding Yilong noticed she wasn’t even flinching, just stared him down head-on. He was the one who looked away first.
He walked to his desk, clapped his hands, and said, “Gather round. I’ve got something to announce.”
Everyone stood up. Tang Yao got up too, pulling out her chair.
But considering their relationship, she didn’t step forward. She stayed at the edge of the group—and standing beside her was rookie editor Kang Ming.
“Miss Tang Yao… what’s this about?”
Kang Ming recognized her and called her name, then quickly added a respectful title.
“You can just call me Tang Yao… It’s probably about the manga award.”
She replied quietly.
And sure enough, Ding Yilong began, “The opening date for the Wenxin Manga Award is set—next Monday. I need all of you to notify the mangaka you’re responsible for. After the new issue hits the shelves, have them promote it on social media. It’s not mandatory, but I expect you to make every effort to hit our targets.
Anyway, your mangaka will be promoting their own work—just ask them to mention it.”
He continued, “Also, this time the Wenxin Manga Award is different from the Newcomer Award. Aside from the judges, you should also pay attention. According to New Media, after the award ends, the website will open up submissions. Keep an eye on the youth group entries. If you find anything promising, go reach out.
Personally, I think it’s pointless—it’ll only hurt the magazine—but upper management decided it, so give it a try.”
At that point—
Ding Yilong sneered slightly. Clearly, he didn’t believe in web serialization at all.
He only mentioned it because he had to.
And with the head of the content department showing such an attitude, the other editors weren’t stupid. It basically spelled the website’s death.
Nobody wanted to get on the boss’s bad side.
So after the manga award, any aspiring mangaka hoping to get a magazine spot through web serialization? Might as well give up.
Unless… there was a change in leadership.
Tang Yao couldn’t help shaking her head.
Upper management actually had a decent idea—use the manga award to drive traffic to the site, then open submissions and build it into a real platform. It could even allow paid serials later and help recruit talented mangaka for print.
But sadly, the most important Editor-in-Chief of their youth magazine didn’t care.
So once the award’s buzz faded, even if someone submitted something amazing to the site, it’d probably never make it to print.
Unless it was shockingly good.
And for a brand-new site, that was a long shot.
While Tang Yao was thinking all that—
“Tang Yao! I’ll contact Mr. Ou personally. You don’t need to.”
Ding Yilong’s voice rang out again, dripping with resentment. “Also, is it true Mr. Tang won’t be submitting anything?”
Tang Yao snapped back to attention. “Yes. I’ve already found a replacement—”
“I’m not interested in whatever a third-rate artist you found drew!”
He cut her off rudely before she could finish. “I don’t care who it is. Submit it through the standard entry channel! No special treatment! And don’t bother ing back to me!”
“Oh…”
Tang Yao nodded calmly.
The so-called “special authors” existed to keep things fair.
After all, letting established mangaka compete against passion projects was just bullying.
So those “special works” would go straight to the final round of judging, with their own separate category.
As for the standard path? That was where New Media’s idea came in—reader voting.
Basically, if you entered the standard route, you had to earn enough reader votes to qualify for judging.
It was another way to drive traffic to the website.
But for Tang Yao? Didn’t make much difference.
Still—
Her indifferent attitude clearly wasn’t what Ding Yilong wanted.
Seeing her so composed and confident made his face twist with disgust. “A no-name wannabe like you dares to direct Mr. Ou? And you kept pestering him?! I can’t wait to see how far your trash-tier pick makes it. I bet it won’t even make it to the judging round. Don’t go ruining some poor mangaka’s future with your worthless taste and blind arrogance.”
Tang Yao didn’t respond.
Trash-tier… huh?