Chapter 61: Expanding the Ranks

With people coming from all walks of life, you are bound to encounter all sorts of characters.

A significant portion of the applicants didn't even understand the basics of perspective, and their line art was an absolute mess.

One elderly woman even showed up, mistakenly believing that a comic assistant's job was simply to serve tea and water. She walked right up and announced, "Leader, I am very capable."

Zheng Fei fell silent for several seconds. Well, he had to take the blame for this; he had failed to clearly communicate the job requirements to Editor-in-Chief Mo, leading to such a bizarre situation.

......

A comic assistant was actually a critically important position. Especially in this era before computers, there was no such thing as a Ctrl+Z magical undo button.

If something went wrong at any stage during the drawing process, it would inevitably result in a massive amount of rework.

Back in the early days of the Japanese comic industry, many legendary creators had comic assistants who were themselves exceptionally talented manga artists.

Fortunately, not everyone who came to apply was there just for laughs. Zheng Fei was quite satisfied with one applicant in particular, whose name was Li Ziwei.

During his interview, Li Ziwei directly produced his own freehand sketches. His proportions were well-rendered, and his shading was executed brilliantly. One could tell at a glance that he came from a formal academic background.

His objective was equally clear. As soon as he opened his mouth, he said, "Teacher Zheng, I want to learn manga from you."

Zheng Fei was quite pleased with such a goal-oriented applicant. "Very well. Come over to the publishing house for a trial test at nine o'clock the day after tomorrow."

"Thank you, Teacher."

"Remember to bring your easel."

Another applicant arrived carrying a pictorial storybook, claiming to be an apprentice to a storybook illustrator and stating that most of the artwork inside was drawn by him.

A more conservative person might have found this absurd, but Zheng Fei, having lived two lives, actually found it quite normal.

Operating on the most basic level of trust between human beings, Zheng Fei said to this young man, "Bring an easel and come over at nine o'clock the day after tomorrow."

To Zheng Fei's surprise, upon hearing these words, the young man—whose name was Zhou Weiguo—revealed a troubled expression and began to stammer.

"Teacher Zheng, does the publishing house have an easel I could use? My home is a bit far..."

Hearing this, Zheng Fei roughly guessed the situation. Looking at the clothes the young man was wearing, he really did look a bit like Zheng Fei himself from the previous year.

Both of them were too poor to afford an easel. Come to think of it, the wooden boards on Zheng Fei's current bed were still missing two slats, and he didn't dare sleep too close to the edge.

"The day after tomorrow, you can use my easel."

"Thank you, Teacher Zheng."

......

After interviewing at least sixty people, Zheng Fei was surprised to finally encounter an acquaintance.

Short in stature, with a square face, he was truly not good-looking, and his appearance didn't match his name at all.

Upon seeing this person, before the man could even speak, Zheng Fei said directly, "You don't need to interview. You lack the talent for this and can't do this kind of work."

Gao Xiaoshuai's expression turned extremely ugly. While waiting in line earlier, the moment he saw that the interviewer was Zheng Fei, he had already anticipated the outcome.

Yet, holding onto a sliver of wishful thinking, he had braced himself and gone ahead anyway. But before he could even utter a word, he had been doused with cold water.

There was no need to crush someone's spirit like this!

Ever since his master had become "kind-hearted," Gao Xiaoshuai had resigned himself to his fate; he truly possessed no talent for drawing.

Persistence would only bring him increasing agony, and even his master had advised him to give up this trade. Originally, he had intended to quit.

However, seeing a recruitment notice for comic assistants from a publishing house in the newspaper, he figured that having served as a mural painting apprentice for three or four years, he should surely be qualified to be an assistant.

He never expected that the person in charge of the interviews would be Zheng Fei. Gao Xiaoshuai let out a heavy sigh. "The road of life is getting harder and harder to fucking walk!"

So be it!

Just as he was preparing to leave, the notoriously sharp-tongued Zheng Fei suddenly added:

"The publishing house is still short of someone to run errands and do odd jobs. The pay is lower, but at least there's still an income..."

Gao Xiaoshuai whipped around, his eye rims already turning red, and burst out crying on the spot. "Zheng Fei, I knew it. You're actually a good person and wouldn't just abandon me like this."

Watching Gao Xiaoshuai cry so pitifully, Zheng Fei's mouth twitched, and he felt a strong urge to tell him to get lost immediately.

......

After the interviews concluded that day, Zheng Fei had a brief chat with Gao Xiaoshuai and finally learned the whole story. Back when they left Daxidaxi Village, Gao Xiaoshuai had gotten into a huge argument with Zhao Dacang.

In a fit of anger, Gao Xiaoshuai had pushed Zhao Dacang into the sea, causing him to contract consumption, which left him unable to continue painting murals to this day.

"How is your master doing now?"

Gao Xiaoshuai shook his head. "He has his good days and bad days. None of his own children are willing to take care of him, and now he has another burden weighing on his mind."

Zheng Fei frowned. "If his children aren't looking after him, are you the one taking care of him?"

Gao Xiaoshuai nodded.

"I suppose so. After all, master and apprentice share a bond; I couldn't just watch him die."

This came as somewhat of a surprise to Zheng Fei. He hadn't expected his unprincipled senior fellow apprentice to actually be so loyal and sentimental.

"Come report for duty the day after tomorrow."

"Alright, Zheng..." Gao Xiaoshuai was about to address him by name directly, but thinking better of it, realized it was no longer appropriate and quickly changed his words.

"Thank you, Teacher Zheng."

......

During the remaining interviews, as long as the candidates weren't completely hopeless, Zheng Fei gave them all a chance for a trial test. Ultimately, fifteen people qualified for the tryouts.

Over the past two days, watching the stream of applicants flowing downstairs, Mo Changshan couldn't stop smiling from ear to ear, muttering to himself, "Now this actually looks like a publishing house."

Yet, seeing such lively activity downstairs also stirred up some unpleasant memories.

Back when the Advanced Publishing House was first established, he, too, had been full of passion, setting all sorts of grand goals for the organization.

He had even placed recruitment advertisements in the newspaper, but very few people came to apply. The moment they heard that the publishing house was jointly operated and didn't offer a permanent "iron rice bowl" job, they turned around and walked away.

In the beginning, the publishing house had nine people. Within two years, only three remained.

Mo Changshan was well aware of the reason behind today's bustling turnout.

These people weren't drawn to the Advanced Publishing House itself; they were drawn to Zheng Fei, the artist working here.

At that moment, Mo Changshan glanced at the huge scar on his right hand. If he hadn't been injured at the factory back then, perhaps he would still be a painter today.

......

On the day of the trial test.

A dozen people crowded into a small conference room at the publishing house, each with an easel set up in front of them.

As for the one named Zhou Weiguo, he was using Zheng Fei's rather oddly shaped easel.

Comrade Xu Sansui was slightly dressed up today. She distributed the draft sheets to the comrades participating in the tryout and announced:

"Today's trial test covers line drawing, structure, and coloring. You will have a total of three hours. Everyone, please do your best."

As the test commenced, the conference room filled entirely with the sound of pencils scratching against paper. Some candidates worked with effortless ease, while others broke out into a nervous sweat.

Zheng Fei, observing from the side, didn't even need to wait for the three hours to elapse to know the general outcome.

Painting could be said to be a strictly hierarchical skill; you either have it or you don't. There was simply no way to fake it.

Zheng Fei waited until the test ended, collected everyone's drawings, and began to review them carefully.

The first drawing he looked at belonged to Li Ziwei. The techniques of the academic school were indeed solid enough.

"Li Ziwei passes."

Li Ziwei, coming from a specialized background, wasn't particularly surprised. Confident in his own ability, he said very modestly, "Thank you, Teacher Zheng."

"Zhou Weiguo passes."

This fellow named Zhou Weiguo didn't have as comprehensive a foundation as Li Ziwei, but his line art was exceptionally striking.

Hearing his name called, Zhou Weiguo let out a massive sigh of relief.

"Zhang Mingzhu passes."

This female comrade named Zhang Mingzhu wasn't interviewed by Zheng Fei; she had been brought in through the back door by Editor-in-Chief Mo.

She also came from a specialized background, but unlike the others, when she learned she had passed, she jumped up on the spot in joy.

"Yay! Now I don't have to go back to work at that dump of a unit."

As soon as she said this, the faces of many people present darkened. Although this female comrade was cute, her words were irritatingly obnoxious.

Sensing that the atmosphere had turned sour, Zhang Mingzhu immediately sidled up to Xu Sansui.

"Cousin, we're going to be colleagues from now on. You've got to cover for me."

Xu Sansui looked at her with utter disdain. "Teacher Zheng, this person talks way too much and is a total troublemaker. Let's swap her out; we don't want her."

Zhang Mingzhu pulled a bitter face.

"Cousin, I know you have a prejudice against me, but I got in through my own genuine ability. Even Teacher Zheng approved it. You're being a bit excessive."

"Hurry up and get back to your assigned workplace."

"I won't go! I want to learn manga from Teacher Zheng."

In this round of tryouts, Zheng Fei recruited a total of three people, while the rest were eliminated.

However, unlike companies from his past life, he didn't deliberately feed them polite falsehoods and tell them to wait for notification.

Having been a job seeker himself—and having even been scammed out of artwork by unscrupulous companies—Zheng Fei understood all too well that waiting for notification was the most agonizing torture for an applicant.

In reality, whether someone was hired or not could be decided immediately on the spot as long as the person in charge was present.

Noticing the expressions of disappointment on the faces of the remaining dozen or so people, Zheng Fei picked up their drawings and gave feedback to each of them one by one.

"Wei Jingshan, which one is you?"

"It's me, Teacher Zheng."

"Your foundation in line work is a bit weak. If you truly want to learn manga, you still need to practice more in your daily life."

"Understood, Teacher Zheng."

"Cheng Xiaoping, your perspective is inaccurate, and your human anatomy also has some issues... You need to observe more closely."

"And Zhang Chunfa..."

After providing individual critiques to everyone, Zheng Fei continued:

"Right, in about two months, our publishing house will be holding a manga training class. If you are interested in manga, you are welcome to attend."

Wei Jingshan asked, "Teacher Zheng, how much does it cost to enroll in the training class?"

Zheng Fei paused for a moment. He hadn't actually considered this question. It seemed that in this era, relevant departments were particularly enthusiastic about running training classes.

Because they could make extra money, people in literary circles, especially, loved organizing such activities.

For instance, the writers' association in some prefecture-level city in Zhejiang had once recruited training students nationwide, only to find that over ten thousand people applied.

The registration fees alone totaled tens of thousands of yuan. This had attracted high-level official attention, scaring the prefecture-level writers' association into canceling the training class and hurriedly refunding all the money.

Zheng Fei replied, "Our manga training is for public welfare; we don't charge any tuition fees."

"That's wonderful! Teacher Zheng, please make sure to save a spot for me. I will definitely come to the training."

"Teacher Zheng, I want to sign up too."

"My hands are itching already—I want to draw manga right now!"

Hearing this, everyone couldn't help but laugh.

Looking at these passionate, high-spirited young people, Zheng Fei couldn't help but think of his former self, and a burst of youthful idealism welled up inside him:

"Your dreams—I will protect them!"