Starting as a Manga Editor-Chapter 35: Unlike

When Shang Tao saw Vice President Zhao’s stunned expression, he finally understood.
This chapter’s storyboard was solid!
The manga award schedule and the website launch time — no need to change them!
So he immediately broke into a wide grin.
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face. I’m asking you — what’s the deal with that AORI line?”
But Zhao Fangsheng wasn’t smiling. He put down the storyboard and asked seriously.
“Editor Tang wrote it.”
Shang Tao suppressed the joy in his heart a bit and answered.
Zhao Fangsheng asked again to confirm, “She really wrote it? Not Ou Congquan? You sure?”
Hearing this, Shang Tao’s confidence wavered for a moment. He grew a little more serious, sneaking a glance at Zhao Fangsheng as he asked, “What’s going on exactly, President Zhao? Is there a problem with the storyboard?”
“……”
Zhao Fangsheng looked down silently at the storyboard in his hands, didn’t answer the question, and instead said something else: “The Girl, the Boy, and the Sword is one of the most important works in the company. Since I became Vice President... or rather, even before I joined, I’ve been following this series.
I believe that anyone in the industry wouldn’t overlook a pillar series from a major magazine. Whether it’s because they genuinely enjoy it or want to study its success, they’ll pay attention to it in some way. People like Ding Yilong who don’t — they’re the exception, not the norm.”
Shang Tao said nothing. He knew the VP wasn’t done talking and waited patiently.
“I’m one of those people too. I read top-tier works from major magazines. After joining Wenxin Press, since it’s our own publication, I became even more invested. No matter how busy I am, I try to read most of the works. I even skim through the shoujo manga. And for this pillar title of Wenxin...”
Zhao Fangsheng lightly raised the storyboard manuscript in his hand, then continued, “I know it inside and out. I have a pretty good grasp of Ou Congquan’s drawing skills, ideas, and the way he drives the story forward.
In a sense, he’s a very straightforward guy. In other words… he doesn’t have a lot of complex thoughts. If you observe him long enough, you can pretty much tell how he’ll draw something after just seeing the beginning.
And he rarely pays attention to details. The controversy around the interactions between the second male lead and the female lead this time actually ties back to his usual habits. He’s the kind of mangaka who never gives a damn about the sense of distance between characters.
Maybe he thinks distance doesn’t matter — but readers sure do.”
Zhao Fangsheng took a deep breath and went on: “But this chapter’s storyboard — he started paying attention to distance.
And the way he advanced the plot completely changed. It’s just not like him.”
Shang Tao hesitated. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It is a good thing, but...”
Zhao Fangsheng furrowed his brows, looking puzzled. He spoke slowly, “You don’t understand — for someone familiar with him, this is shocking... Ou Congquan developed the plot entirely based on that AORI line from the last chapter. He brought in the concept of the Malice Entity, attributing all the crappy developments last time to hallucinations.
Then after a brief outline, he dove into the female lead’s hallucination. And smartly enough, in her hallucination, only the male lead appeared. Even though she was affected by the ‘Malice Entity,’ there wasn’t a second guy. All she saw was the male lead’s back. Her deepest fear was him dying.
As for the second male lead, who looked like he was stealing the show last chapter — his hallucination didn’t involve the female lead at all. She didn’t appear. Instead, it featured his deceased mother, which also filled in some backstory. Earlier chapters did mention he was hung up on his mother’s death, but that subplot had been kind of forgotten.
It’s just so damn clever. After a disastrous previous chapter, this one turned things around completely — avoided the landmines, smoothed over the backlash, and told readers, ‘Hey, that was just the male lead being paranoid.’ It even planted a hook — now I’m actually looking forward to how the male lead will untie this mental knot and face the female lead and the second male lead.”
“Uh…”
Shang Tao got it now. He’d read the manga too. He asked in a low voice, “Still sounds like a good thing?”
“But it’s just not Ou Congquan’s style.”
Zhao Fangsheng paused and replied, “Not at all. Even the idea of the Malice Entity or the hallucination stuff — I don’t think he’d do it this way. I know the guy. But he still drew it this way. The style’s completely different. And the way it wraps up the previous chapter... it makes it feel like that whole mess was intentional.
Like he purposefully wrote a pile of crap just to flip it around in this chapter.”
“……”
Shang Tao was starting to sense something. “Vice President Zhao, you’re saying…”
“Yeah. Either Ou Congquan is actively trying to change. He’s shifting his mindset, testing new ways to push the story forward — which is why he dropped a huge landmine last time, just to reverse it here.”
Zhao Fangsheng nodded. “He did it on purpose. The garbage was fed to us intentionally. That AORI line? He had it prepared in advance — just to set up this chapter’s change.”
“That’s why you asked if Editor Tang wrote that AORI line… So what you’re saying is, this whole storm was a misunderstanding? We got worked up over nothing?”
Shang Tao’s eyes widened slightly. Then he thought of Tang Yao’s face and shook his head lightly. “No no no, I don’t think Editor Tang would lie.”
“Which leaves us with another possibility — after Ou Congquan turned in that mess of a chapter, Editor Tang immediately nailed down the AORI line. Then using that AORI, along with what Ou Congquan had drawn and what came earlier in the serialization, she added new elements. From the mangaka’s perspective, using her own ability, she designed the plot for this chapter — not only smoothly continuing from the last one, but also patching over things that Ou Congquan himself had forgotten.
And she did it all… without even talking to the mangaka.”
Zhao Fangsheng looked down at the storyboard in his hand. “But that’s just nuts… do you believe it?”
It really was nuts.
Zhao Fangsheng wasn’t Kang Ming. He didn’t think this kind of thing was just ‘editor work.’
He’d been an editor himself… and he knew damn well, this was not part of the job. Editors aren’t omnipotent. Everyone’s thinking is different, and words can be clumsy. Depending on communication skills and empathy, the message can easily get distorted.
Not to mention, a lot of mangaka suck at communicating — and they’ll intentionally hide things, even from editors. Some thoughts, they just won’t share.
That means sometimes editors can’t fully understand a mangaka’s thinking. They can only offer advice based on what the mangaka says — like suggesting a direction.
But this? You insist on drawing some sh*tshow and refuse to communicate. Fine. I’ll go dig through your old chapters, try to guess what you were thinking, then design the next chapter’s plot based on the garbage you just handed in?
That’s basically writing the original story!
Totally absurd!
Actually, what Vice President Zhao didn’t know was — it was absurd to him. But for Tang Yao... not so much.
From the moment she arrived in this world, she felt that the art and storytelling in this parallel world were pretty immature. Whether it was world-building or plot, everything felt childish. As for narrative techniques? Straight up toddler level.
Take a simple example… the whole “face-slapping” trope. Here, they were still using the classic outdated formulas: a snobby waiter looking down on someone, an obnoxious rich heir being a jerk in the street, a smug classmate showing off at a reunion.
You could guess the plot just by skimming a few pages.
So in a way, for Tang Yao — this “outsider” — looking at the works of this world felt like a dimensional downgrade.
“…That’s seriously impressive.”
Shang Tao finally understood, equally shocked. “I never imagined it could be done like that…”
“…You believe it?”
“I do.”
“……”
Zhao Fangsheng heard Shang Tao’s firm response, but didn’t reply. He just stared at the storyboard in his hands, looking conflicted.
Because even if he wanted to believe…
Common sense was screaming — this sh*t just ain’t possible!