Starting as a Manga Editor

Chapter 140: Their Hands

On the other side.

After confirming that there were no issues with today’s new version going live.

Tang Yao turned away from Kang Ming and walked toward her own desk. She picked up her phone and glanced at it, her delicate brows knitting slightly.

She was getting spammed with calls too.

But she hadn’t answered a single one—just put the phone on silent and ignored them.

Still, this couldn’t go on forever.

She needed her phone for daily use, and now it buzzed non-stop the moment she picked it up...

If that was all, she could just stop using her phone.

But she was a little worried about Tang Xun.

Tang Xun was still of school age. What if something happened to her?It probably wouldn’t, since Tang Xun had never called during work hours before.

But still, better safe than sorry.

If the phone worked properly, there wouldn’t be much to worry about.

But now it wasn’t working normally, and all Tang Yao could think about was school bullying, accidents, people picking on her...

It wasn’t the first time she’d thought like this—like an overprotective mom.

After all, there was no “original host” anymore. After all this time, she had completely become Tang Yao in every sense...

“So these people are really that resourceful, huh?”

Tang Yao sat down at her desk and looked at the unfamiliar number lighting up her screen again, gaining a whole new level of respect for these investors’ abilities.

She used to be a total nobody.

And she was sure she hadn’t given her number to anyone except people she knew and worked with.

Yet somehow, they still managed to find it immediately.

Seriously impressive.

Also, seriously annoying...

She started thinking maybe she should bring in a professional to handle these things... Not just these calls, but the daily management of the studio and the whole company structure too.

Back when they were just a ragtag team, she could manage everything alone, since there weren’t many people.

But now there was the website, the game, and growing revenue—and they needed to hire more people for both.

Things like HR, legal and finance, marketing and PR—they all needed to be set up properly now.

Then there was platform operations, external business collaborations, even investment and acquisitions.

And even FGO itself... would need a professional scriptwriter. Tang Yao couldn’t stay fully immersed in the game forever—she was afraid she’d burn out.

Of course, the critical 1.6 and 1.7 chapters, she’d definitely write herself. After all, those were the most exciting and transformative parts of the whole FGO arc.

By then, the Observer Route of Fate/stay night would probably be wrapping up too, so they could seamlessly shift players’ attention to the game’s plot.

But she couldn’t be the only writer forever. FGO’s “story-updating platform game” model practically encouraged slacking... Plus, she’d likely be needed on Dou Pai again.

And there was that plan to collaborate with a manga artist.

Basically—

A ton of stuff.

Just thinking about it was exhausting.

Tang Yao knew herself well. She could handle it, sure, but it would probably wear her out—and she definitely wouldn’t do as well as a professional.

So she leaned more toward managing overall strategy, and letting pros handle the rest.

But then again—

She couldn’t just hire anyone.

This studio was her baby. What if she brought in some random clown who messed everything up?

What a headache.

Tang Yao ended another call, made sure no more were coming through for now, and sent a message to her little sister, explaining what was going on. Basically: she was getting spammed with calls, and if her phone didn’t go through, to call another number.

She sent Tang Xun Li Xue’s number.

Tang Xun replied almost instantly.

She was a good student, and probably still in class, but she still answered right away. Though... the wording was a bit sharp.

“I got it. Don’t worry about me. You take care of yourself. Don’t go off with strangers, don’t walk down dark alleys, don’t go to sketchy places...”

Tang Yao just replied with a question mark.

Did her sister think she was a kid?

At that exact moment—

In a certain classroom, Tang Xun looked down at her phone under her desk and saw the question mark from her sister.

She thought of the other day, when her sister lifted her leg and pouted, asking to be carried—and quietly pressed her soft pink lips together.

So worrying.

She knew her sister was usually reliable, but sometimes she could be so adorably clueless. Tang Xun was really afraid someone would scam her.

Every time she watched her sister go out, all she could imagine was her getting kidnapped, duped, bullied...

It wasn’t the first time she’d thought like this—like an overprotective mom.

...

Tang Yao had no idea her and her sister’s thoughts were surprisingly in sync at that moment.

Once she made sure Tang Xun was fine, she silenced her phone again and started thinking about what had just happened.

Should she hire a professional manager?

Hmm...

As she thought, an image of Li Xue floated into her mind.

If there was anyone she fully trusted—aside from her underage sister—it was Li Xue.

Except...

“Tang Yao.”

Li Xue’s gentle voice suddenly rang out.

Tang Yao snapped out of her thoughts and looked to her side.

Li Xue was standing right beside her, and Tang Yao hadn’t even noticed when she arrived.

It was still cold out.

So Li Xue was bundled up, wearing a sharp-cut, pale moon-white wool coat that looked super warm. Underneath, a soft blue turtleneck hugged her curves, showing off her graceful figure. On her lower half, she wore straight-leg pants in the same tone as the coat, making her long, slender legs look even straighter and more elegant—paired perfectly with her short boots.

She looked great.

Tang Yao noticed that every time Li Xue came to visit, she wore something different.

But every outfit was exactly Tang Yao’s type.

“Why wasn’t your phone going through?”

Li Xue saw Tang Yao spacing out and waved a pale hand in front of her.

“Don’t ask.”

Tang Yao grabbed her hand, looking a bit defeated.

“What happened?”

“What’s that?”

Instead of answering right away, Tang Yao looked at the bag Li Xue was holding, curious.

“Lunch. I made an extra serving on purpose yesterday.”

Li Xue raised the bag in her right hand and said warmly, “Want some?”

Twenty minutes later.

Under the curious stares of the studio staff, the two of them walked into the meeting room with their heated-up bento boxes from the breakroom.

After entering—

Tang Yao still couldn’t bear to put down the bento in her hands. Her fingertips rubbed the warm surface gently. “So warm...”

Her voice carried a hint of contentment, like this small warmth alone could wash away all the day’s fatigue.

“So why wasn’t your phone going through?”

Li Xue set down her own box, asked the question again, and took Tang Yao’s lunchbox from her hands.

“Hey...”

Tang Yao rose on tiptoe, reaching out to take it back, her movements a little childish.

But Li Xue didn’t give it back. She put it on the table, then turned and took Tang Yao’s hand in hers. She squeezed her cold fingers gently, warming them with her own palms.

Li Xue’s hands were soft and warm.

Tang Yao felt the heat from her palms and finally looked away from the bento, glancing down at their joined hands.

They both had beautiful hands—fair and slender, with fingertips flushed a soft pink, maybe from the cold. They looked like delicate pieces of art.

So pretty.

Of course, she meant Li Xue’s hands.

Li Xue: “Hm? What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just... our website’s been trending lately, right?”

Tang Yao reversed their grip, holding her hand back and started explaining.

Li Xue listened, then showed a look of realization. “No wonder my cousin reached out again...”

Tang Yao furrowed her brows slightly. “She’s pestering you again?”

“Mm. But she was way more polite this time, and seemed genuinely sincere. Said she really wanted to meet you.”

“But I turned her down.”