Chapter 161: Miss Chen Xi’s Woes
After reviewing Yu Linna’s black and white illustrations, Chen Xi, with her years of experience, deemed them commercially viable. Though the style wasn’t overtly fanservice-oriented, the character designs aesthetically pleasing, lacking the distinctive flair of Zhiqiu’s work, they were good enough, especially for someone with no prior experience in illustration.
She had to reassess her opinion of Shion.
Chen Xi recalled their first encounter at the city-level singing competition, where she had spotted Yu Linna and attempted to recruit her for the entertainment industry, initially dismissing her as lacking potential. Fortunately, she had brought her to Wenqing, where her talent could finally shine.
If she hadn’t, Yu Linna might have lived a mediocre life, her potential wasted.
Chen Xi considered herself lucky. Of all the talents she had scouted over the years, Yu Linna was the most unique, not just for her writing and drawing abilities, but because Chen Xi had almost overlooked her, almost discarding a true gem.
Having her at Wenqing was a blessing.
Chen Xi presented the illustrations to the editorial team, advocating for Yu Linna to handle her own artwork, despite initial reservations. Wenqing had no precedent for authors illustrating their own novels; it was a risky move.
And the style wasn’t the typical fanservice-heavy approach favored by the market. The editors were hesitant, while Chen Xi continued to push for Yu Linna’s April publication date, supported by some of her colleagues, including her junior, Rabbit Princess.
Tang He, the chief editor, pondered the illustrations. This style… it was different from anything their illustrators had produced, most of whom were men, catering to a male audience. But Shion was a woman; a more feminine style was understandable.
More importantly, this could be an opportunity, a chance for Wenqing to diversify, to embrace a wider range of styles.
Embracing the changing trends could revitalize Wenqing.
“Alright, I agree. Let Shion-sensei handle her own illustrations from now on.”
“Chief Editor, are you sure?”
The editors were still hesitant, this style deviating from their usual approach.
But with the chief editor’s approval, there were no further objections. Chen Xi, satisfied, contacted Yu Linna on QQ, instructing her to start working on the color illustrations, ensuring a timely April release.
Yu Linna finally breathed a sigh of relief.
With the illustration issue resolved, Chen Xi informed her that Zixuan and the Paper Airplane was scheduled for publication in June, with Yu Linna also handling the illustrations. Yu Linna now had another title: illustrator, albeit one who illustrated her own work.
After a long day at work, Chen Xi rubbed her shoulders, pushing up her glasses. Time to go home.
“Sister Chen, leaving already?”
“Yes, I’m going home. Work hard.”
“Haha, I envy you. We still have to work overtime.”
“Newbies should focus on working, not complaining.”
With that, Chen Xi left the office, her bag slung over her shoulder. She had joined Wenqing shortly after graduating university, full of enthusiasm, starting as an assistant, fetching tea and running errands. Then Tang He, recognizing her potential, had promoted her to the editorial department, where she quickly rose through the ranks, becoming a respected editor, second only to the chief editor in authority. The authors she had scouted had become pillars of Wenqing, their incomes substantial.
Her most notable discovery was Air.
She had single-handedly launched the career of the nineteen-year-old girl who had become the youngest Gold Award winner in Wenqing’s history, a record later broken by Shion, but at the time, it had been a remarkable achievement.
No one doubted her abilities, her keen eye for talent.
“Chen Xi, long time no see! What have you been up to? You’ve been so busy since the New Year.”
Huang Jinglin, also leaving work, joined Chen Xi for dinner. They had been roommates in university, their bond strong, though their different career paths meant they rarely saw each other. They remained close, staying in touch, and Chen Xi always visited Huang Jinglin’s hometown during the New Year holidays.
“It’s that time of year again, new releases for our authors. It’s always hectic. If the publications go smoothly, we’ll all get a raise.”
“You always say that. Come on, let’s eat. What are you in the mood for?”
“It’s been a while since we had Korean BBQ. Want to go?”
“I remember you used to eat Korean BBQ every day in university, even for late-night snacks, then you gained weight and your boyfriend dumped you. Aren’t you afraid?”
“Hey! He didn’t dump me! I dumped him! He was cheating on me! I caught him! It had nothing to do with Korean BBQ!”
They bickered playfully as they entered the restaurant, ordering their usual dishes, reminiscing about their university days. Huang Jinglin was also busy, her recent promotion leading to bigger projects, even interviewing celebrities, the initial excitement now replaced by a weary routine. Smiling for the cameras, even when interviewing A-list celebrities, could be tiring.
“Chen Xi, I’m so stressed. My salary increased, I have money now, but my family keeps pressuring me to get married. I’m still so young! Why get married? Being single is great!”
“Says the one who changed boyfriends like she changed clothes in university.”
“I didn’t! I only dated one or two guys!”
Huang Jinglin slumped onto the table, her posture anything but ladylike, her childish behavior making Chen Xi chuckle, a rare display of amusement from the usually stoic editor.
“Anyway, Chen Xi, you scouted that girl, Yu Linna, right? How is she doing?”
Huang Jinglin had met Yu Linna during the singing competition, where she had been eliminated. Chen Xi had offered her a job, and Yu Linna, eager to enter the entertainment industry, had also been offered a role in a stage play by Huang Jinglin, only to be dismissed for her lack of acting skills.
Now, Yu Linna’s situation was vastly different, her success a remarkable turnaround.
“That girl… she’s truly exceptional, more than I imagined. Not only did she win the Gold Award, but she’s also doing her own illustrations. I think I’ve found a true gem. It would have been a waste if she had stayed in the entertainment industry.”
“That’s not what you said six months ago.”
“That was then. Now, I have high hopes for her writing career. I’ve realized she’s not suited for the entertainment industry. Her acting needs work, and she lacks experience in front of the camera. But her writing… it’s exceptional. Her storytelling abilities are remarkable, drawing readers into her world.”
Such high praise from Chen Xi was rare. Huang Jinglin took a sip of her drink as the barbecue arrived.
“Things are going well for you, but the entertainment industry is a mess. You know Nangong Ying, right? The singing competition champion? She had a breakout role at the end of last year, becoming a box office star. She’s… causing trouble.”
“What? Another conflict with Chenghe?”
Though their conflict wasn’t public knowledge, Huang Jinglin, being in the industry, had heard rumors. Chen Xi, using her connections, had also gathered some information.
But the details were scarce, only that Nangong Ying had clashed with Chenghe early in her career, with Chenghe even dragging her friend into the industry, creating tension between them. Chenghe had even considered blacklisting her, but for some reason, hadn’t followed through. After that incident, Nangong Ying had become more cautious, keeping a lower profile.
“Not exactly a conflict. Her new movie is about to be released, and there’s a lot of buzz on Weibo. But… there are rumors about her, saying she’s… ruthless.”
“What do you mean?”
“Probably just haters, but they’re saying she achieved her success through… unsavory methods, like sleeping with powerful figures to get roles. Weibo exploded, and apparently, Nangong Ying was furious, but she hasn’t addressed the rumors.”
“Is she guilty?”
“How would I know? The entertainment industry is a complicated place. But it doesn’t seem likely. She’s Nangong Zhuo’s daughter. Even if she were willing, her father wouldn’t allow it. With her background, who would dare touch her?”
The entertainment industry was indeed a complex world, far more so than the publishing industry.
Suddenly, Chen Xi remembered Yu Linna mentioning she and Nangong Ying attended the same school, though different classes.
“Speaking of which, Yu Linna and Nangong Ying go to the same school, though different classes. If Yu Linna had entered the entertainment industry, their relationship would be… interesting.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Nangong Ying is a big star; how could she possibly be connected to Yu Linna? Even if Yu Linna had become an actress, they would just be alumni. I don’t think they have any connection.”
“I guess…”
Yu Linna was a novelist, not an actress; there shouldn’t be any connection to Nangong Ying.
And by the time Yu Linna wanted to enter the entertainment industry, Nangong Ying was already a rising star.
Chen Xi would later realize how wrong she was.
