Starting as a Manga Editor-Chapter 22: Impact

That latest chapter from Mr. Ou, the one he staked his entire career on, really did shock the readers like never before.
But… it wasn’t the kind of shock they wanted.
After all, while the system here is relatively mature, this world isn’t Japan from Tang Yao’s past life.
This kind of abrupt twist and explosive development—readers here still aren’t ready for that.
It just came off as garbage.
So the readers’ outrage… ended up even worse than Tang Yao had imagined.
They’d already started taking their anger out on the manga award.
The planning department at Wenxin Press had come up with what they thought was a great strategy: using the latest issue of big comic and the release days of other company magazines to have serializing mangaka promote the internally-hyped “Wenxin Manga Award” on their personal social media.
This way, they could both use quality ongoing works to endorse the award, and also have respected mangaka help advertise it.
Like, “Look, even the creators serializing in our company magazines are recommending this award!”
“If they’re backing it, the works submitted to the award should be worth checking out too, right?”
“And if you want to become a mangaka, why not try entering this award that veterans themselves are recommending?”
It all sounded great.
But then… their star manga blew up.
And that’s where things got ugly. big comic wasn’t just the best-selling magazine in the entire publishing house—it was the most important one.
And The Girl, the Boy, and the Sword by Mr. Ou? Easily the most popular series in big comic.
For a magazine that ranks top five in the industry in sales, imagine how many readers were following it just for that one series.
Now that The Girl, the Boy, and the Sword pulled a stunt like this, readers were absolutely losing their sh*t!
First, they flooded Mr. Ou’s social media, racking up over ten thousand replies in just two hours.
Then, probably because Mr. Ou’s last post was an ad for the manga award—and other mangaka were posting similar promotional content at the same time—those pissed-off, emotionally wrecked readers saw that Mr. Ou wasn’t responding, so they went off on the other mangaka’s social media accounts too.
Didn’t matter who it was—they just started cursing everyone!
These emotional outbursts were a huge pain to deal with... and by the end, the readers had even started organizing mass attacks on every post related to the manga award!
A prize that had basically nothing to do with it ended up taking all the heat just because of Mr. Ou’s “brilliant” move.
Some of the more rational readers were at least directing their hate at Ou Congquan and Wenxin Press under other mangaka’s posts.
But the irrational ones? They flamed everyone. Even the manga award itself! And the hate just kept spreading.
“Your top mangaka draws that kind of cr*p and you still have the nerve to hold a manga award?!”
Comments like that were going viral fast.
Before long, several mangaka who’d posted those ads started noticing what was happening—and were completely dumbfounded.
By noon, the entire editorial department was ringing with nonstop phone calls.
Editor-in-Chief Ding, who had just arrived at the office, was pulled away immediately by an urgent call, looking absolutely grim.
No one knew exactly what had happened at first.
But as editors picked up the phones and heard frustrated complaints from the mangaka who’d been asked to post ads, it started to click.
Something had gone seriously wrong.
And many eyes turned to a particular desk near the door.
Tang Yao’s desk.
“If you want to delete your post, go ahead. I wouldn’t recommend it, though. I haven’t received any official notice… Besides, they’re not cursing you or your work. Just pretend you didn’t see it.”
Tang Yao was on the phone too—talking to another mangaka under her care: Shao Changqing.
Obviously, his social media had been affected too.
Tang Yao, however, was completely calm. After offering her advice, she hung up and slumped back in her chair, looking tired.
She knew a storm was coming.
But she hadn’t expected to get caught in the bloodbath right away.
What a f***ing hassle.
“Editor Tang… do you think that damn old Ou guy has a twist planned later on?”
At that moment, Kang Ming, seeing her end the call, cautiously asked her.
“If you mean the next chapter—no, there’s no twist.”
Tang Yao turned to him.
“I checked as soon as I saw the storyboard. Back then, our relationship hadn’t soured yet, so he gave me a rough outline of what’s next. The ‘escape arc’ is going to run for five or six more chapters. Then the male lead will return as a spirit…
But even when he comes back, it’s not like things get better. Looks like Ou’s trying to explore some philosophical stuff about human nature or something.
So for at least two months, this situation isn’t going to improve.
That’s also why I kept begging him not to go this route.
If he could pull off a smart twist, I wouldn’t be against it.
But he clearly never even considered that.”
Kang Ming hesitated.
“Then that tagline you wrote for promotion…”
“I was just trying to be professional and give readers a shred of hope out of pity. I can’t control what he draws—and frankly, I don’t want to.”
Tang Yao replied offhandedly.
“If he’s dead set on this path, then it’s not my problem… My guess? Mr. Ou’s going to double down. Arrogant people rarely wake up unless something external forces them to.”
“So the readers are basically gonna eat sh*t for two straight months…”
Kang Ming glanced at his phone, then looked like he’d seen death.
“Yeah, let them tear him apart then.”
“Honestly, reader pressure is the least of it. The real problem is that the manga award got caught in the crossfire. Management pressure is going to hit hard soon… Let’s see how they deal with it.”
Tang Yao stood up, getting ready to grab some food.
“You should go eat too. You just joined—you can’t change anything right now. Thinking about it won’t help.”
<h36302" data-end="6379">Meanwhile, on the 14th floor, where the new media department was located…
Inside one of the meeting rooms—
New Media Director Shang Tao was glaring hard at Ding Yilong across the table, practically hyperventilating, looking like a volcano about to erupt.
The heads of the planning and operations departments didn’t look any better.
Everything had been on track. The Wenxin Manga Award and the website were about to launch.
Then this hit.
Of course they were pissed.
Ding Yilong, under the gaze of all three, started sweating.
He had just figured out what the hell had happened… and what his golden boy Mr. Ou had actually done.
Sure, Tang Yao had left the manuscript on his desk as usual.
But he… didn’t read it.
Call it confidence, call it trust, call it disinterest—whatever. Bottom line: he didn’t read it.
In fact—
Only a few minutes ago did he learn that readers were attacking every mangaka who’d promoted the manga award.
“This is really bad…”
At that moment, Vice President Zhao Fangsheng, who was seated at the head of the table, put down the magazine he’d been reading and rubbed his brow. He looked at Ding Yilong.
“No wonder the readers are so pissed.”
Wenxin Press was a classic top-down organization. In short—this VP Zhao Fangsheng was everyone’s direct boss.
“Editor-in-Chief Ding, I need an explanation. Do you have any idea how much our new media department has poured into this site? Into this manga award?”
New Media Director Shang Tao couldn’t hold it in anymore and barked:
“Why? Why pull this stunt right as the site is about to go live? We told you the timeline, didn’t we? Told you early! Now the readers have exploded, and it’s spread to both the award and the site. What are we supposed to do now? Still go through with the award?”
“I…”
Ding Yilong was sweating even more. The pressure wasn’t just coming from Shang Tao—it was Zhao Fangsheng’s opinion that really mattered.
Honestly—
If it were just the new media team, Ding Yilong could’ve pushed back. He ran the content team, and they were just a newly formed department.
But with the VP sitting right there giving a bad evaluation? That changed everything. Especially since this VP had some serious background.
Still, even racking his brain, he couldn’t come up with anything to say.
Because this whole thing had completely blindsided him.
And he hadn’t even read the manuscript! He had no clue what had gone wrong!
So all he could blurt out was:
“I’ll need to ask the managing editor…”
Shang Tao nearly exploded, barely holding back from slamming the table:
“You’re the editor-in-chief! What the hell is this story?! Don’t tell me you didn’t know anything?”
Ding Yilong’s eyes darted.
“There’s no point in arguing. The issue now is how to minimize the damage.”
In the end, the head of the planning department stepped in and bailed him out:
“Ding Yilong, what’s Mr. Ou’s plan for the story going forward? We need to know if there’s going to be a twist.”
Now—
“I…”
Ding Yilong was drenched in sweat.
The downsides of arrogance and overconfidence were hitting him hard now.
He fumbled, unable to say a damn thing.
“The direction doesn’t matter—it’s two weeks away.”
The operations director, looking unimpressed, still tried to smooth things over:
“Right now, emotional readers don’t care about any of that. The point is, our most important series just dropped a bomb right as the award and site are about to launch. We can’t change that now. I think delaying the award and the site is the best option.
The Girl, the Boy, and the Sword is our flagship series—we have to consider the readers’ reactions. Forcing a launch now would be a disaster for everyone.”
“I disagree.”
The words were barely out when Shang Tao cut in:
“We’re already at the final stage of promotion and pre-launch. I’m not going to accept throwing all my department’s hard work down the drain over some BS reason.”
“I understand how you feel, but—”
“I absolutely disagree! Editor-in-Chief Ding! You have something to say, right?!”
Shang Tao turned sharply toward Ding Yilong, who had stayed silent the entire time.
He knew full well that as the new media director, he was the common enemy of all these “old-timers.” They’d definitely side with Ding Yilong to protect their turf.
So he went straight for the source.
Everyone else turned to look at Ding Yilong.
In truth—
This whole mess had clearly been caused by the content team.
And yet Ding Yilong hadn’t said a single word from the beginning.
“……”
Ding Yilong wanted to act tough under all those eyes.
But unfortunately, he really hadn’t been paying attention to Ou Congquan’s work lately.
The guy was a pillar of the company—and always top of the reader polls.
Who’d have thought he’d pull something like this?!
From the head seat, VP Zhao Fangsheng eyed Ding Yilong for a moment, then narrowed his eyes and said:
“Enough. I’ve heard all your opinions. Shang Tao, you and Ding Yilong work together to find a way to calm the readers and control the fallout. Then reassess the situation.
If the damage is manageable, we proceed as planned. If not, we postpone.”
Shang Tao looked troubled:
“But, Vice President, how exactly are we supposed to…”
Zhao Fangsheng reopened the magazine on the table and calmly said:
“If you want my suggestion—start by using this issue’s AORI to ease readers’ concerns.
But you’ll need to confirm Mr. Ou’s storyline going forward.”
Shang Tao blinked.
“AORI?”
Zhao Fangsheng didn’t reply—he just pushed the magazine across the table.
But not to Shang Tao.
To Ding Yilong.
Ding Yilong paused, then nervously picked it up and flipped to the last page of The Girl, the Boy, and the Sword, where the editor-approved AORI (promotional tagline) was printed:
“Next time: All malice converges! A sudden twist! Is it a dream… or reality?”
“……”
What the h*** is that?
Ding Yilong froze again and slowly looked up—only to meet Zhao Fangsheng’s icy gaze.
“Looks like you don’t know what’s happening next in the story… and you haven’t even seen the AORI.
Then go ask the responsible editor under you.”