Starting as a Manga Editor

Chapter 150: Legendary Cards and Traces

Tang Yao didn’t pay attention to Si Jinliang’s hesitant expression. She lowered her head in thought and returned to her seat.

To be honest, designing cards wasn’t hard. Defining the mechanics wasn’t hard either.

Tang Yao, in this moment, felt like that quote from The Tide of the Future—humanity had amassed thousands of years of knowledge, insight, wisdom, and art, all laid bare before her to enjoy.

But opening that gift was easy… using it was not.

Say what you will,

Hearthstone wasn’t just about designing cards or setting up the game rules—it took full advantage of being an online game, delivering a comprehensive blend of elements.

Like entrance effects.

Most Legendary cards in Hearthstone came with impressive entrance animations—some were over-the-top, accompanied by booming sound effects and dazzling visuals.

This audiovisual impact wasn’t just for show. It heightened the player's immersion and sense of achievement.

Plenty of players probably couldn’t hold it together when they heard, “Growth, life, happiness, and friends.” Just like how aggro decks probably had heart attacks when they heard, “We’re gonna be rich!”

And that kind of experience—physical TCGs simply couldn’t replicate.

What gave digital card games the edge over tabletop ones was their ability to create immersive experiences through visuals, sound, and emotional hooks.

Blizzard had tried physical TCGs too.

WOW TCG, for example, but its sales kept slipping and never brought in the big bucks—so it got scrapped.

What came next was Hearthstone.

Not to mention the backing of the World of Warcraft universe.

A huge part of Hearthstone’s success came from riding on the massive IP of Warcraft.

Decades of lore, characters, and stories from World of Warcraft gave Hearthstone a deep well of material and emotional connection.

That was something Tang Yao couldn’t replicate.

Lastly, there was interaction and social play… Ranked Ladder, Friend Battles, Arena Mode.

All of those designs were essential. They made the game more fun.

So besides the cards, there were a lot of other things that needed to be addressed.

But regardless… cards were the foundation of everything.

Once the rules were set.

And the cards were finalized.

She wouldn’t have to wrack her brain alone anymore… after all, she was the boss.

She couldn’t possibly do all the work.

At least let others pitch in.

Whether it was building the game world, finalizing the art style, or figuring out what kind of effects should be paired with which cards—

All of that could be handled through team collaboration.

As long as she could lay down the game's core framework, those other things would fall into place.

Thinking that,

Tang Yao let out a breath of relief, pulled out her chair, and sat down, ready to start the massive "replication" project.

But before she began—

She suddenly remembered something interesting…

Back in her past life,

In the early years of mobile games, card games were practically unavoidable. I Am MT, Dota Legends… even Onmyoji combined turn-based mechanics with cards.

But now this world already had FGO. For anime-style mobile games, there was already a gem in the market. Any other company trying to compete on story or character design would have to face FGO head-on.

And when Dou Pai launched… if anyone wanted to compete on gameplay, they’d have to face Dou Pai.

Straight-up copy-pasting wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

Even if it did work,

Tang Yao wouldn’t let them steal players.

Because when it came to update speed… no other designer could keep up with her.

Take FGO, for example—she’d already been eyeing that game-transforming 1.6 and 1.7 story arcs.

As for Dou Pai, the open beta would include up to Blackrock Mountain.

And after that came League of Explorers, Journey to Un’Goro, Knights of the Frozen Throne—critically acclaimed expansions.

So trying to steal players with knock-offs?

Dream on.

That’s why Tang Yao was curious—when the copycat path was blocked, would other developers start exploring more niche mechanics and markets? Would they try to shift midcore gameplay onto mobile?

If they did—

Now that would be interesting…

“Yao… why’re you smiling like that?”

At that moment,

Li Xue’s voice interrupted Tang Yao’s train of thought.

Tang Yao came back to her senses, looking at Li Xue standing there with a cup in hand, delicate and poised, the smile still lingering on her face.

She blinked, and said mysteriously, “Nothing. Just thought of something fun.”

“How’d the apartment viewing go yesterday?”

Li Xue didn’t press further, smoothed her skirt, sat down gracefully with her legs together, angled slightly to the side, and took a small sip of her still-steaming instant coffee.

“Already signed. Same complex, Building C, 12th floor.”

Tang Yao replied with a smile, then teased, “But hey, Miss Li, I really thought you’d come with me to check out the place… You didn’t even show your face.”

“Sorry.”

Hearing that, Li Xue paused mid-sip, gently lowered her cup onto her crossed legs. A hint of apology appeared on her elegant face: “I didn’t expect my dad to call me home for dinner. I was planning to go with you…”

Tang Yao joked, “That won’t do—you owe me compensation.”

“……”

Li Xue heard that, looked at the playful smile on Tang Yao’s lovely face, and knew she was joking.

So she simply lifted her cup and offered it over, teasing back, “Here, have a sip. Consider it compensation.”

“…Could you be any cheaper?”

Tang Yao glanced at the coffee and rolled her eyes at Li Xue.

But.

She still reached out and took the cup, taking a small sip.

The bitterness spread across her tongue.

…There wasn’t much flavor.

Just instant coffee, after all. And Tang Yao wasn’t a fan of coffee—she preferred tea.

On the other side,

Li Xue hadn’t expected Tang Yao to drink it so casually… She looked at the faint lip mark Tang Yao left on the rim, then at her soft, cherry-blossom-pink lips, and paused slightly. A faint blush crept up her gentle face.

But she quickly recovered: “Next time you want coffee, just go ahead. I’ll brew it.”

“Mm, thanks.”

Tang Yao handed the cup back with a playful grin: “Compensation received.”

“……”

Li Xue said nothing, holding the cup, her fingers gently tracing the rim—as if the cherry blossom–pink mark still lingered there.

She subtly took another sip, her own faint lipstick mark landing right on top of it.

After that,

They chatted a bit more, then got back to work.

There was still a lot to do. The day before break had been chill—now, not so much.

Tang Yao quickly dived into card design.

Li Xue handled daily admin tasks, occasionally stepping out for interviews.

Tang Yao hadn’t been joking when she made her a manager.

She was assembling both the finance and HR departments.

There were lots of applicants.

Tang Yao had skimmed through some résumés too, giving Li Xue a few suggestions for department structure.

But Li Xue took the lead.

So she was swamped.

Even though their desks were side by side, the two of them didn’t talk much during work.

On the other hand,

Tang Yao’s mind was entirely on Dou Pai. The famous cards began to take shape one by one.

And—

She categorized them, too.

Soon, all the Legendary cards were listed out.

But some cards later got new versions, so she had to make choices.

Take Alexstrasza—the most iconic version set both heroes to 15 HP, but the later one could target anyone but only dealt 8 damage.

In the end, Tang Yao went with the classic Alexstrasza.

Or Malygos, who was later reimagined as the Spellweaver.

That was mainly due to changing metas—Hearthstone, being a live service game, had grown massive and hard to manage. The Core Set acted as reprints to let designers balance each class’s power level based on upcoming cards.

Also to bring back some Wild cards.

But now… they weren’t at that point yet.

The game wasn’t even out.

So Tang Yao wasn’t in a rush to swap out classics and basics for Core cards.

The sound of typing continued steadily.

From time to time,

Tang Yao would lower her head, pick up her pressure-sensitive pen, and sketch a few rough visuals—entrance effects for cards she remembered clearly.

Whether or not they’d get used later, who knew.

She worked fast. By noon,

The Legendary cards were basically done.

Looking at her morning’s work, Tang Yao leaned back with a smile, stretching her arms in a big lazy stretch—her graceful, curvy figure even more prominent.

But since she was sitting in the last row, no one got to admire it.

After easing her body a bit, she instinctively leaned forward to grab her cup.

Then she realized—

She’d picked up Li Xue’s cup.

Hmm, it was full again.

Tang Yao remembered Li Xue had gone to the break room three times… but she’d been too absorbed in her writing to notice. Maybe it was because of what Li Xue had done earlier, but it never even crossed her mind to get water herself.

After all, she’d had some this morning.

And Li Xue had been drinking from this cup too… They’d just been sharing the same cup.

Neither of them seemed to think this little intimate gesture was inappropriate.

Now Tang Yao finally realized. She held the still-warm cup… and noticed the rim facing her had a faint reddish mark. She paused.

Li Xue usually wore makeup, though lightly.

But even light makeup included lipstick.

And judging by this… her lipstick wasn’t very waterproof.

Tang Yao stared at the faint mark on the rim, a subtle feeling stirring inside.

Honestly,

Her lips were really pretty… moist and glossy, they looked so soft.

Tang Yao, lost in thought, raised the cup and took another small sip.

The bitterness spread again.

But maybe it was just her imagination—

This cup didn’t seem as bitter as the last one.

“Tang Yao…”

Li Xue’s voice suddenly rang out.

She drew it out, complaining, “Why are there so many things going on?”

Tang Yao snapped back to reality, shaking off the strange thoughts. She turned with the cup in hand and smiled at the clearly exhausted big sister: “You’ve worked hard.”

Li Xue pulled out her chair and sat down: “…Seriously. I deserve compensation!”

Hearing her echo back her own words from that morning, Tang Yao laughed and passed the cup over: “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Li Xue reached out, took it, thanked her, and naturally took a sip.

And when she set the cup down again,

The already faint red mark from Tang Yao was completely gone.

Tang Yao looked at Li Xue’s noticeably flushed ears and blinked.