Chapter 60 Hiring Manga Assistants

The day after the meeting concluded, Mo Changshan was summoned to the editor-in-chief's office.

Upon hearing what Editor-in-Chief Chen had to say, cold sweat beaded across his forehead. Just yesterday, he had been celebrating with his family over a cake, and today, a major crisis had landed right in his lap.

Editor-in-Chief Chen patted him on the shoulder. "This is a good thing. Before long, I might be the one calling you Editor-in-Chief Mo."

Mo Changshan wore a forced smile and abruptly changed his form of address. "Teacher Chen, the two assistant artists you promised our publishing house before the New Year—does that still stand?"

"I've already been sidelined by them, so what do you think?"

Mo Changshan's mouth twitched.

Editor-in-Chief Chen continued, "Now that your side has funds, adopt that reform-and-opening-up approach. As long as the publishing house is willing to spend money, you'll find people."

"What about the quota to go to Hong Kong?"

"The quotas aren't determined by me; they are allocated by the Publishing Bureau. When the time comes, I'll try my best to secure two slots for you."

"Then let me thank Teacher Chen in advance."

"Also, from now on, when you publish something, you won't need to come specifically to me for a signature. You can coordinate directly with the printing plant."

Mo Changshan left the Fine Arts Publishing House with a sense of disappointment. He hadn't expected this day to arrive so quickly.

When Mo Changshan returned to the publishing house and broke the news, everyone's expressions turned grim.

Ma Youfeng couldn't help asking, "Then what is our publishing house's status now? Have we turned into a private enterprise?"

Mo Changshan shook his head. "It's still a joint operation; only the finances have been separated."

"Well, that's not too bad."

Yet, upon second thought, Ma Youfeng realized that as long as Zheng Fei's *Stormriders* continued to be published through them, with each issue printing one hundred thousand copies, and the revenue no longer needing to be split with the Fine Arts Publishing House, wouldn't they have more money than they knew what to do with?

That was a wonderful thing.

Why was Editor Mo wearing such a long face? Just as he was pondering this, he noticed Editor Mo carrying his old chair out.

"Old Ma, this chair has uneven legs. If you have time today, help me buy a better one."

"Right, contact the editor at the *Xinmin Evening News* and place a recruitment ad. We are preparing to hire a few comic assistants."

"Also, starting today, our publishing house must fully cooperate with Teacher Zheng and strive to build the best possible creative environment for him."

On this final point, Ma Youfeng entirely agreed. By now, the entire publishing house was truly tied to Zheng Fei. If his daughter hadn't already been married off for a long time, he would have definitely wanted to marry her to him. The more he looked at this young man Zheng Fei, the more pleasing to the eye he became.

***

After the recruitment advertisement was published in the *Xinmin Evening News*, a considerable number of applicants came to the Vanguard Publishing House over the next few days.

When Mo Changshan looked at some of their artwork, his eyes widened in disbelief. Some drawings weren't even as good as his son's, yet they had the audacity to apply.

Not far from Vanguard Publishing House, inside a painting studio, a young painter suddenly asked his teacher, "Teacher Meng, if I said I wanted to apply to be a comic assistant, would you..."

Hearing his student utter such words, Meng Guang did not show any anger. Instead, he said slowly, "Last year, I met an unemployed young man. His sketches were exceptionally good, and I originally intended to have him take correspondence courses and become my student. But before I knew it, in the blink of an eye, he had already published a massively bestselling comic."

Upon hearing this, the student, named Li Zimo, was startled. "Teacher Meng, you know that Zheng Fei?"

Meng Guang nodded. "Zheng Fei has also visited the studio a few times. Your teacher, Chen Yifei, holds him in very high regard. Not only is he skilled at comics, but his artistic level is also quite high."

Seeing Teacher Meng praise him thus, Li Zimo made up his mind. "Teacher Meng, then I'm going to apply. I hope I get selected."

"Go ahead." Meng Guang sighed with emotion. There are countless paths in art; not everyone has to walk the exact same road.

***

In a quiet corner of the city, a man named Zhou Weiguo, an apprentice manhua artist, was still washing his master's clothes in the freezing dead of winter.

His hands were so numb from the cold that he had developed chilblains, swollen to the point where holding a brush to draw became extremely difficult. He had been an apprentice manhua artist for two years now. His master often only sketched rough drafts for his serials, leaving all the polishing and completion to him. Yet every time a work was published, his name was nowhere to be found.

Previously, he had always considered this entirely normal, until he laid eyes on that comic book, *Stormriders*.

The back cover actually credited the names of the comic assistants as well. This gave him a massive psychological jolt.

It turned out there was no such unspoken rule; his master simply never intended to put his name on the work.

Moreover, over the past two years, as an apprentice, he not only had to help his master draw serials but also had to do household chores. Lately, this family had become increasingly outrageous—especially the master's wife, who treated him practically like a servant, dumping every imaginable chore onto him while she spent all her free time playing mahjong.

Even their children treated him like hired help.

Furthermore, his master claimed it would take five years to complete his apprenticeship, meaning he still had to serve as unpaid heavy labor for another five years.

In truth, he had long since wanted to quit being an apprentice. He had even secretly drawn serials and mailed them to publishing houses, only to have them rejected. Clearly, his master's serials relied heavily on his own embellishments, and the quality and standard of his submissions were by no means inferior to his master's.

Yet the rejection letters always read:
*"Comrade Zhou Weiguo, your submission failed to pass the preliminary review with minor deficiencies in creative expression. It is hereby returned to you. You are welcome to submit again."*

Welcome my foot!

It was precisely this rejection letter that taught Zhou Weiguo his very first lesson in life: society was far more complex than he had ever imagined.

Sometimes, society didn't operate on reason; it operated on connections, networks, and human favors.

He had originally resigned himself to accepting his fate. But today, right after finishing the laundry, he happened to see a recruitment advertisement in the *Xinmin Evening News*—placed by none other than the publishing house that put out *Stormriders*.

They were actually hiring comic assistants.

Zhou Weiguo hesitated over the advertisement for half a day. Just then, his master returned, holding a folder from the publishing house, reeking of alcohol.

"Weiguo, I received another commission request from the publishing house today. This serial is two hundred pages long. First, take a look at the story in the folder, and then help me put together some simple rough drafts."

Looking at this master, alongside the master's wife who dumped every menial task upon him, Zhou Weiguo blurted out on the spot, "I'm sorry, my family wants me to go back. I won't be working here anymore starting today."

Hearing this, the alcohol-laden middle-aged man flew into a sudden rage. "Do you still want to finish your apprenticeship or not?"

The master's wife was equally furious, chiming in, "Is this any way to act as an apprentice? Are family matters important, or are your master's matters important?"

Suppressing a bellyful of fiery rage, Zhou Weiguo replied coldly, "Naturally, family matters are more important."

Seeing Zhou Weiguo suddenly grow so spine-stiffened, the master's wife immediately dropped her polite facade. "Weiguo, watch your tone. Apologize to your master right now, and we'll pretend today's incident never happened."

Zhou Weiguo retorted firmly, "Forget these serials! I'm done learning this trash. From now on, I'm switching to learn manhua."

"You..."

Hearing that Zhou Weiguo wanted to learn manhua, the manhua artist named Zhao Benhong was so enraged he nearly vomited blood. Only recently, while drinking with friends, he had specifically vented his grievances about that young upstart Zheng Fei, and everyone had agreed to stand united in boycotting him.

Yet who would have thought that in the blink of an eye, his own apprentice wanted to go learn manhua? If their peers found out about this, where would he put his face?

The middle-aged man sneered, "Without my backing, with your half-baked skills, there won't be a place for you in the art world!"

"Sorry, I've already found one."

After leaving that place, Zhou Weiguo headed straight for Vanguard Publishing House. But upon arriving at the entrance, he was dumbfounded.

The doorway of the publishing house was packed with people—every single one of them there to apply as a comic assistant.

He had felt great talking back to his master and his wife, and having drawn the bow, there was no turning back arrow. But what he feared most right now was this:

With so many applicants, what should he do if someone out there was vastly more talented than him?

Nevertheless, Zhou Weiguo's mind was made up. Even if he failed to become a comic assistant, he would shamelessly cling on and become Zheng Fei's apprentice no matter what.