Chen Hao walked over and picked up the document bag from the trash can. He opened it and confirmed—it was indeed his manga manuscript.
"This is the draft I submitted, but you threw it in the trash," he said as he brushed off the dust.
It was lucky it hadn't been taken out with the rest of the trash yet.
Otherwise, he would've had to redraw everything from scratch.
The receptionist looked embarrassed, just as a middle-aged man stepped through the door. Her eyes lit up, and she quickly changed the subject.
"Editor-in-Chief Xu, you're back!"
Chen Hao turned to look. It was indeed Xu Tongyong.
He looked younger than Chen Hao remembered—probably because, years later, the publishing house's decline and his attempts to salvage it had aged him prematurely.
Xu simply gave a brief nod to the receptionist, barely glancing at Chen Hao.
"Editor Xu, wait a moment," the receptionist said hurriedly. "There's a manga submission that came in two days ago. The other receptionist must've forgotten to pass it to you. Would you take a look?"
Xu stopped and looked at Chen Hao for a beat.
"You drew this?"
Chen Hao nodded.
Xu pushed up his glasses. "Let's talk in my office."
Chen Hao breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
He knew Xu Tongyong well. Back then, Xu rarely met newcomers personally unless they were already famous. For a high schooler like Chen Hao, it was rare to even be invited inside.
In most cases, the editor-in-chief only gave final approval—subordinates did the initial screenings.
Inside the office, Xu set down his briefcase, poured himself a glass of water, and took a seat.
"Where's your manuscript?"
Chen Hao handed over the bag.
Xu skimmed through the pages quickly, then set them on the table.
"You drew this?"
"Yes."
"For someone your age, this is surprisingly decent," Xu said, taking another sip. "These are just the first three chapters. What's the story's direction from here?"
Chen Hao took a moment to organize his thoughts. After all, he had reviewed One-Punch Man so many times in his memory library, he remembered the entire plot progression in detail.
He gave a concise explanation of the story.
"That's roughly how the plot goes."
Xu nodded slowly. "And what do you think is the appeal of this manga?"
"Humor. Wit. Positivity. Passion."
Xu chuckled. "You're still in school, right?"
"I'm in my third year of high school."
"You're about to take the college entrance exam, and you still have time to draw?"
"My hobbies don't conflict with my studies."
Xu pushed up his glasses again. "That may be true. But still—only two months left until exams. Even if I agreed to publish this now, would you have time to keep drawing? You can't just submit three chapters and expect me to wait endlessly for the rest."
"Don't worry. If your publishing house gives the green light, I can finish the rest quickly."
Xu smiled faintly. "But if you rush it, won't that affect the quality? As the saying goes, 'slow and steady wins the race.'"
He stood up and walked to a bookshelf filled with thick novels.
"See these books? All by acclaimed Chinese authors. Every word is the result of meticulous effort. They agonize over every line. If you breeze through a story, can it really resonate with readers?"
Chen Hao silently watched him. The sly smile forming on Xu's face made it all clear.
He stood up, collected his manuscript, and calmly said, "Sorry to have taken up your time."
He turned to leave.
"Don't be so quick to get offended," Xu said, sipping his water again. "It's great for young people to have dreams. But do you really think a bald protagonist punching monsters will sell in China? This industry is still too niche. Making a living from manga is nearly impossible."
Chen Hao replied evenly, "So you think Chinese comics will never thrive?"
"I wouldn't go that far. But I can say this—within the next 20 years, they won't rise. The domestic market just isn't ready. Sure, Japanese manga is popular online, but their system and culture are different."
He pulled out a notebook from the shelf.
"Chinese readers prefer slice-of-life stories. Youth dramas. Romance. You've drawn a bald hero fighting monsters—and without even a female lead. You clearly don't understand the market. No matter how well you draw, without direction, you'll only end up discouraged."
He paused. "Still, your drawing skills aren't bad. I'll give you an offer. If you're willing to illustrate based on themes we assign, and your work passes review, we'll pay you 1,000 yuan per chapter."
Chen Hao smiled. "Thanks, but I'm not sure someone who doesn't believe in this industry can offer a meaningful theme."
Xu's face darkened. "This is me being generous. 1,000 yuan per chapter—draw ten, and that's 10,000 yuan. Do you think writers even make that from one book?"
"10,000 yuan is a lot," Chen Hao said, "especially for a student. But I'd rather prove that a story doesn't need romance to be great."
Xu's expression soured. Authors usually treated him with reverence. This kid clearly wasn't playing by the usual rules.
"No manga with a bald protagonist has ever succeeded. If yours does, I'll write my name backward!" Xu snapped.
Chen Hao gave him a polite smile. "Then Editor Xu better start practicing your new signature. Wouldn't want it to look sloppy when the time comes."
"You—!" Xu shouted, furious. "From now on, I'll reject anything you submit!"