Chapter 1 – Deadline
Nian was still drawing.
Scarlet Veil, Chapter 4.
She'd been grinding through panels for hours, halfway slouched across her desk, stylus in hand.
The name sounded kind of mysterious — which she liked.
Her plan was to finish ten chapters all at once. That way, she could schedule them, hit post, and snack on melon seeds like a slacker goddess while the views rolled in.
She let out a short, witchy laugh. "Hgkh hikh hijk…"
The thought alone gave her enough motivation to keep her wrist moving faster.
On the screen, the protagonist was deep in training under his sect master. The brush lines came out clean. Ethereal, almost. This was the kind of panel that made people stop scrolling.
It was also the kind of drawing that had landed her the job in the first place.
Ring ring ring.
Her phone buzzed beside the monitor.
"Mm?" She picked it up. The screen showed a familiar number.
Publisher.
She clicked accept. "Hello?"
"Nian?"
The voice on the other end was nervous.
She frowned slightly. "Something wrong?"
A sigh came through the line.
"I'm really sorry… but the higher-ups decided to reject the current plotline."
There was a beat of silence.
"…What? Didn't they just approve it? Said it was 'fresh' or something?"
"Yeah, I know. But they're saying now that it doesn't meet the official guidelines. If you want to keep going, they'll need you to revise it to fit the standard framework. Or… you can keep uploading it, but it'll be unpaid."
The voice said it all at once — like they were afraid she'd explode.
Nian was twenty. A third-year university student who picked up freelance comic work to fund her weird little hobbies and cheap boba addiction.
Now, with four chapters done — nearly forty panels each — they decided to pull this?
She stared at her screen, the blood in her face rising slowly.
"What did you just say?"
"They rejected it."
So she hadn't misheard.
Clang.
A sharp crash rang through her room. The publisher flinched.
It wasn't anything major. Her elbow had smacked into the pot of instant ramen next to her tablet, knocking it clean off the table. It bounced off the tile floor and hit the metal leg of her bunk bed with a clang.
"Agh—!"
She grabbed her elbow, swearing. That really hurt.
The publisher, now deeply alarmed, hung up without another word.
The call ended. The room was quiet again.
Nian sighed and slumped forward, forehead hitting the desk.
This wasn't the first time something like this had happened — but this time, she'd already put in real work. Real hours. Four full chapters. Full cleanup, paneling, shadows, detail.
All for nothing unless she gave in to a format she hated.
She laid there, unmoving.
Her dark circles were visible even in the reflection on her monitor. The screen glowed softly, still showing the sect-training scene.
She didn't even bother turning it off.
She got up, climbed onto her narrow bunk, and let herself fall back onto the mattress.
Sleep took her fast.