Xu Xiangqian was well aware of Ruan Shiyu's situation. Since everything seemed fine, he couldn't help frowning as he asked, "Is something the matter? Do you need my help?"
"No, no, no, it's not like that." Seeing that Xu Xiangqian had misunderstood, Ruan Shiyu hurriedly explained, "It's not that anything is wrong, I just want to go back and draw."
With that, Ruan Shiyu scratched the back of her head with a somewhat embarrassed, foolish grin and said, "You know how it is with cartoonists... we live by inspiration. I want to go back and work on something, so I'm not going to stroll around outside anymore."
Put simply, her inspiration had struck, and she was in a rush to get home.
Hearing this, Xu Xiangqian felt relieved and smiled with a chuckle, "Alright then, but you still need to eat breakfast. You should buy some and take it back with you."
Too embarrassed to turn down Xu Xiangqian's kind offer, Ruan Shiyu went to a breakfast stall and bought something to eat.
After hurrying through a meal upon returning home, Ruan Shiyu went to the study. But instead of turning on her computer, she was seized by a rare burst of inspiration: she grabbed a stack of blank paper, carried a small table out onto the balcony, and began to draw in the bright morning sunshine.
While Ruan Shiyu was absorbed in her sudden wave of creativity, Xu Xiangqian, on the other end, found his own curiosity piqued.
With no one to keep him company, Xu Xiangqian suddenly lost interest in eating breakfast outside. Following Ruan Shiyu's example, he casually bought some food to take home, and as he ate, he found himself instinctively reaching for his phone.
His gaze inevitably drifted to the Weibo app tucked away in the corner of the screen.
He rarely touched social media apps, and the occasional times he used WeChat were strictly for work. This Weibo app came pre-installed on his phone, and he had hardly used it since buying the device.
He remembered his younger cousin mentioning once that professional artists all had their own Weibo accounts and would occasionally post their work there.
On a sudden impulse, Xu Xiangqian tapped on the Weibo app.
He didn't have an account, so the app prompted him to sign up. He registered using his mobile number, only to find that registration was followed by friend recommendations based on geographical proximity, showing contacts within a radius of one kilometer.
Xu Xiangqian had no desire to expose his personal information. He frowned, just about to dismiss the prompt, when a familiar name caught his eye among the list of recommendations.
Shi Yu Shushu.
Ruan Shiyu.
After a brief hesitation, he tapped on the user profile.
Sure enough, it was a cartoonist's page. Her Weibo feed was filled with various artworks and posts about her daily life.
Xu Xiangqian casually scrolled through them.
February 14th: Please do not tell me what day today is, as I have no desire to know. (Accompanied by a hand-drawn picture of a pitiful-looking dog) June 1st: Is anyone going to give me a Children's Day gift? The account holder didn't seem particularly fond of sharing her personal life; her updates were scarce, appearing only every few days, usually tied to holidays, with the rest consisting of massive volumes of sketches and short comics.
Xu Xiangqian tapped on a couple of them and found them surprisingly entertaining.
So, was this really Ruan Shiyu's Weibo? Could it be such a coincidence? Wondering about this, Xu Xiangqian reached out to close the app.
Just before he could do so, he heard a "ding-dong" chime—Shi Yu Shushu had posted a new update.
Driven by curiosity, Xu Xiangqian tapped on the new post.
The content consisted of several photos of hand-drawn comics on paper. When taking the pictures, the poster had playfully included her own hand making a V-for-victory sign in the frame.
Seeing the photo, Xu Xiangqian couldn't help picturing Ruan Shiyu's smiling face. Without even realizing it, the corners of his lips curved upward.
The short comic had a novel premise: it was about a nine-to-five office worker who quit her job in pursuit of freedom. To her dismay, once she became a freelancer, she could no longer maintain a normal lifestyle. Irregular sleep schedules, lack of exercise, and a cascade of other issues plagued her until, one day, a strange system called the Schedule Adjustment System appeared on her phone.
Xu Xiangqian rarely paid attention to works of this kind. Seeing such creativity for the first time, he found it refreshing and unknowingly finished reading the comic from start to finish.
When he reached the last page, Xu Xiangqian was left wanting more.
After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the like button on the creator's post.
Meanwhile, Ruan Shiyu let out a long sigh of relief after quickly finishing her comic and uploading it to Weibo.
Lately, her thoughts had constantly hit roadblocks, and she usually had to struggle for a long time to get through a single plot sequence. It had been ages since she experienced such a smooth, satisfying flow of work.
Moreover, the reception seemed quite good.
Ruan Shiyu refreshed her Weibo interface and saw that both the view count and the number of likes were shooting straight up. Just as she was basking in her self-satisfaction, her Weibo interface chimed with a "ding-dong"—another new notification.
It was a notification for a like.
Normally this was a routine occurrence, as Ruan Shiyu was considered a heavyweight creator in her circle. She casually tapped on the notification, but her gaze was instantly snagged by the liker's ID.
Qianqian Junzi.
It always made one think of certain things.
However, Ruan Shiyu's attention quickly shifted away from this, because her editor had come knocking on her private chat window.
Seeing the familiar profile picture, Ruan Shiyu instinctively felt a bit guilty, but then she thought: she had already finished this month's manuscript; the editor wasn't here to chase her for drafts, so what did she have to be afraid of? With that, she opened the editor's chat box and typed out a greeting: "Little Mango, good morning!"
Little Mango: "(Despising look) It's already past ten o'clock, and you call that morning? Don't tell me you just woke up?"
True to form for an editor who had worked with her for a long time, a single sentence pierced right through Ruan Shiyu. In the past, Ruan Shiyu would have dropped to her knees in defeat with arrows metaphorically piercing both her legs.
But the Ruan Shiyu of today was no longer the Ruan Shiyu of the past. Seeing Little Mango's remark, Ruan Shiyu felt quite smug: "Are you out of your mind, Editor? I've already finished a whole comic, how could I have just woken up!"
Little Mango was instantly choked up by the reply, only sending back a message after a long pause: "Are you on your phone or your computer? If you're on your phone, switch to your computer right now, I need to talk to you about something."
Little Mango was a magazine editor who was rumored to have previously been a top-tier web novel author. Weary of daily serialization deadlines, she had switched to editing and possessed a terrifying typing speed—an octopus-like monster capable of churning out ten thousand words an hour.
While Ruan Shiyu was a brilliant artist, her typing skills were utterly pathetic. Every time she typed, Little Mango would look down on her speed. When she used her computer, the two could barely manage a normal conversation, but whenever Ruan Shiyu tried to chat from her phone, the impatient Little Mango would feel an urge to leap right out of the screen and personally teach her how to type faster.
Nudged by Little Mango's command, Ruan Shiyu hurriedly switched over to her computer. Heaven and earth were vast, but the editor was paramount.
Shi Yu Shushu: "I've switched. Tell me, what is it?"
Shrunken Little Mango: "I read your new comic and thought the creative concept was great. You've been serializing your current comic for quite a while now. Have you considered starting a new serialization?"
Shi Yu Shushu: "(Shocked) A new serialization? But I haven't even finished my previous story yet!"
Shrunken Little Mango: "You can run two at the same time. You're a full-time creator anyway, so you don't lack time. Look, you've already handed in this month's manuscript—what are you going to do with the remaining ten days just sitting around? Since you have time, why not draw?"
Shi Yu Shushu: "..."
Ruan Shiyu kept her hands hovering over the keyboard, unable to think of a response for a long time.
Starting a new serialization wasn't something you could just decide on a whim. The agony she had suffered drawing her previous ongoing series had almost made her question the meaning of life. If she took on two serializations, could she really survive until the end? Would she drop dead before finishing them?
Seeing that Ruan Shiyu had remained silent for so long, Little Mango could probably guess what she was thinking and typed out from the other end: "Fine, fine. Since you're not willing, I won't force you. The magazine happens to be short of an illustration; would you like to try that? You've got time on your hands anyway."
Ruan Shiyu didn't dare to take on another serialization, but an illustration was manageable, so she hurriedly agreed.
The two discussed the details of the illustration thoroughly. Once finished, Little Mango said, "Alright, go ahead and draw it. Just give it to me before the first of next month."
Aside from her chronic habit of delaying manuscripts, Ruan Shiyu produced work of exceptionally high quality. Whenever Little Mango needed an illustrator, she always came to Ruan Shiyu first; it was simply that Ruan Shiyu was too lazy—she usually couldn't even finish her own serialized work, let alone extra illustrations.
Thinking of this, Little Mango couldn't help sending over a long string of exclamation points.
Shrunken Little Mango: "You must finish drawing it before the end of the month! Do you hear me! If you don't finish it, I'll buy a plane ticket and come find you for a real-life showdown!!"
Shi Yu Shushu: "(Sweating profusely) I know, I know. I'll definitely finish it."
Shrunken Little Mango: "Good. I'm off, bye-bye."
Shi Yu Shushu: "Wait a minute, I have a question."
Shrunken Little Mango: "What question?"
Shi Yu Shushu: "Why did you shrink?"
Shrunken Little Mango: "Because during the company health checkup a couple of days ago, they actually made me take off my shoes to measure my height..."
Shi Yu Shushu: "So your height-increasing insoles were gone, and you shrank?"
Shrunken Little Mango: "(Grinning) (Threatening) My dear, you'd better state your last wishes right now. I'm afraid you won't live to see tomorrow's sunrise."
Watching her editor begin to rage in the chat box, Ruan Shiyu hurriedly announced that she had to get to work drawing and closed the window.
Then she leaned back in her chair and began to giggle foolishly at the ceiling.
Whether it was her imagination or not, she felt as though everything had been turning for the better lately—her exercise routine, her comics...
Could the system really be the one bringing her good luck? Ruan Shiyu wondered, though she was reluctant to admit it. How could a system that threatened her with punishment at every turn possibly bring her good luck? Ruan Shiyu pouted, pulled her beloved drawing tablet out of the cabinet, and began working on the assignment the editor had just given her.
An illustration was very simple; it only required a single flat artwork without any need to plot out a storyline. Ruan Shiyu's brush flew across the tablet, and in less than two days, she handed the finished illustration over to Little Mango.
When she received the artwork, Little Mango's jaw dropped so hard it nearly hit the floor. She chased after Ruan Shiyu, demanding, "Are you really the same deadline-delaying monster I know?"