Starting as a Manga Editor-Chapter 5: The First Dream

Honestly,
If there had been any other option, Tang Yao really wouldn’t have wanted to draw it herself.
She didn’t want to go back to her old job from her past life—it took forever, didn’t pay well, and once AI came onto the scene, the future became unpredictable...
But more than anything, she didn’t want to relive that round-the-clock drawing lifestyle again.
She’d already gone through it once. And the ending wasn’t great:
Herniated disc, cervical spine issues, chronic sleep deprivation, eye strain—and eventually, she probably died.
That’s also why she couldn’t understand the original host’s obsession with becoming a mangaka.
Sure, she’d never properly serialized a manga herself, and the manga industry in her past life’s China wasn’t exactly booming…
But even if she hadn’t eaten the pork, she’d seen the pig run. As the manga Bakuman once said:
A mangaka is someone who makes a living drawing manga for life.
But even making it to the point of weekly serialization didn’t mean you were safe.
The moment your popularity dipped, you were axed.
Only about one in every hundred thousand could survive solely by being a mangaka—and even among those, the average annual income was barely more than a regular salaryman.
For geniuses to bet their whole lives on something like that—it was straight-up gambling.
And getting serialized was just the start.
Being a professional mangaka meant running a marathon with no finish line.
All the household names people recognized?
They’d already been running that marathon for half their lives.
Most people didn’t even get the chance to start.
So no, Tang Yao didn’t get it.
For the sake of a dream?
A dream…
Tang Yao stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of her, falling silent.
She suddenly couldn’t remember why she even started learning to draw in the first place.
That original motivation had long since been smothered by a suffocating future and the crushing weight of reality.
What replaced it was numbness.
Over time, she ended up doing nothing but complaining about producers, chasing whatever was trending, and cranking out overly “sexy” female characters for mobile games on demand.
Rinse and repeat. Day after day. Year after year.
By the time she was dying, she even started to regret choosing this career.
And once she landed here, she instinctively resisted ever picking up a pencil again.
Why?
Why did she want to learn how to draw in the first place?
Oh…
Right. She’d wanted to be a mangaka too.
But then life happened. She needed to survive, to earn a living.
Her original dream just quietly faded away.
She stopped being naive, stopped being idealistic.
She just tried to survive in the adult world.
Thinking of that,
Tang Yao took a deep breath, fell silent for a moment, then murmured,
“My so-called ‘I don’t get it’… is just an excuse for how far I fell in my last life. How pathetic…”
“What are you doing?”
Just then, Kaoru’s voice rang out.
The girl stood at the bedroom doorway, staring at Tang Yao, who was sitting at the desk and zoning out in front of her drawing paper.
Tang Yao turned her head toward her—
Even though their souls weren’t related in any way, looking at the girl still filled her with warmth.
And every time she saw her, all of the original host’s memories would flood back.
She remembered the tough years they’d endured together.
Remembered every little moment they’d shared.
Those memories slowly changed her.
They even made her remember her own original dream.
…Probably.
Tang Yao lightly twirled the pencil in her hand, then smiled brightly. “Big sis is thinking of chasing her dream of being a mangaka again.”
“Didn’t you say you gave up on that?”
Kaoru walked over to stand behind her sister, reached out to touch Tang Yao’s still-damp hair, then went to the shelf by the bed and began searching for something.
“I’m definitely not becoming a professional mangaka.”
Tang Yao chuckled again. “Too hard to make money. Takes too long. Compared to that, I think other industries are way more profitable—like games.
But being a mangaka just for fun sounds nice too… right?”
“I don’t get what you’re saying.”
Kaoru returned with a hairdryer, sat behind her, and the soft whoosh of warm air filled the room.
“Good. That means it makes sense.”
Tang Yao smiled again and turned back to the paper.
There was a light, glowing expression on her face as she softly muttered,
“Just suddenly remembered my very first dream.”
“……”
Kaoru stared at her sister’s side profile without saying a word.
After a while,
She finally said out of nowhere,
“Washing and drying your hair every day is really a pain.”
Tang Yao blinked. “Huh?”
“Your hair,” Kaoru said, switching off the hairdryer. “Drying it every time is annoying.”
“You don’t have to do it—I can dry it myself.”
Tang Yao turned her head and smiled as she looked at the girl gently gathering her damp hair.
“How about I cut it short sometime soon?”
“……”
Kaoru’s hand paused.
Then she replied,
“Why are you always fighting your hair? You said the same thing a week ago.”
Tang Yao’s expression grew nostalgic as she half-joked,
“Isn’t that how it always goes in anime and manga?
When the heroine wants to change, she cuts her long hair…”
“What kind of anime have you been watching?
No one in real life cuts their hair every time something happens just to show they’ve ‘changed.’
Why do you always take it out on your hair?”
Kaoru deadpanned, switched the hairdryer back on, and carefully separated each strand of Tang Yao’s hair to dry it more evenly.
“So weird.”
But Tang Yao didn’t hear her.
She was busy thinking about what she should draw.
Even though those memories had come back and she felt strangely fired up for once…
Emotions couldn’t pay the bills.
She needed to think rationally about what to draw.
Even if it was just a placeholder piece, and even if she wasn’t famous—
She’d treat it like a farewell to her past self.
She’d put in the effort this time.
So… what should she draw?
Tang Yao began mentally flipping through every manga she’d ever read, tracing back to the very beginning.
What was the manga that made her want to be a mangaka in the first place?
It was… horror manga.
Specifically, Junji Ito’s horror manga.
Thinking of that,
Tang Yao smiled.
It actually made perfect sense.
The manga award had a page limit—and horror manga worked well in short stories.
Most importantly, it was a genre with strong visual impact.
For a transitional, low-risk piece like this, the more striking, the better.
The smile on her face grew wider.
Junji Ito’s works really did leave an impression.
Those visuals…
Yeah.
She had it.
Let’s go with “The Hanging Balloons.”
“Done.”
At some point, the hairdryer had stopped.
Kaoru’s voice echoed behind her again:
“Don’t forget to wear the outfit I put on your bed tomorrow.”
“Outfit?”
Still lost in her creative thoughts, Tang Yao blinked, confused.
Kaoru pointed at the dress lying on the bed.
Tang Yao glanced over, then gave a weird look.
“Kaoru, I’m your sister. Not your dress-up doll.”
Kaoru gave her a long look—
Even while sitting, Tang Yao’s curves were impossible to miss.
Then she remembered the clothes currently tumbling in the washing machine and asked,
“With a figure like yours, why are you dressing like some middle-aged auntie?”
“Because it’s comfy.”
“……”
Kaoru stared silently at her sister, her pale face expressionless.
“……”
Tang Yao knew her excuse was flimsy and tilted her head. “You’re not buying that, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Then try seeing it from my point of view—do you like getting stared at whenever you go out?”
“…Not really.”
“Exactly. So don’t bother picking clothes for me anymore. Your big sis doesn’t need to dress up.”
Kaoru lowered her left hand, clenching it slightly.
“If it’s because of money…”
“It’s not!”
Tang Yao grinned and proudly puffed out her chest. “But! Your big sis will make money!”
Kaoru stared at her sister’s bold posture and impressive chest, then suddenly said,
“You know… you could just kick me out. That way you wouldn’t have to deal with my grumpy face all the time.”
“Why would I do that?”
Tang Yao looked at her sister, surprised.
“Then what would be the point of me earning money?
Where’s this coming from?”
Before she showed up,
Kaoru had occasionally said similar things.
It was… strange.
“……”
Kaoru fell silent, looking at her sister but saying nothing.
She turned around and walked out.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“Okay~ Thanks.”
Tang Yao watched her rush out the door with a puzzled expression.
But she didn’t dwell on it.
She turned back to her desk and started thinking about the manga that had gotten her hooked in the first place.
Those bizarre, grotesque, floating human heads…
As she thought,
She got completely absorbed.
Her hand began to move.
—
Meanwhile, Kaoru quietly placed a glass of water on the corner of the desk.
She glanced at her sister’s focused side profile, then turned away to tidy the bed, play on her phone, take out the laundry from the washer to hang it up, and even did a bit of cleaning in the living room.
By the time she was finally done, it was already 10:30 PM.
When Kaoru returned to the bedroom again,
Tang Yao was still sitting at the desk, sketching nonstop.
She didn’t disturb her.
She just climbed up to the top bunk, lay on her side, and continued staring at her sister’s beautiful figure lit up by the desk lamp.
After a while,
She looked away, took out her phone, made sure the shutter was muted, and snapped a photo of Tang Yao’s back.
Then… she began writing in her diary.
As for Tang Yao—
She kept drawing all the way until the early morning.
Except for turning off the main light and switching to a desk lamp so Kaoru could sleep,
She never left the desk once.