Chapter 67 – Add More Water to the Rice
924 Words
Luo Ye was the last one back to the dorm. He was drenched in sweat, took a quick shower, then flopped onto his bed and fell asleep.
Everyone in Room 515 had noticed his recent dedication to improving his physical fitness. Though they weren’t sure why, it was clear Luo Ye was serious about placing in the 3 km race.
Despite the extra commitments, his novel kept churning out chapters. Lately, perhaps because of his growing closeness with the fairy senior, the relationship between his protagonists kept getting sweeter, earning more and more praise. The story even began to take on a comic‑style vibe, and his editor had started a conversation about it.
The pen name “Falling‑Leaves‑Return‑Home” had risen from a rookie to one of the leading new‑author titles in October’s rankings.
His romance novel, Youth Still Goes On, tells of a fresh graduate who lets go of his “white‑moonlight” (first love) and meets a cold senior in university, building a brighter youth together. It now sits at the top of the campus‑romance category.
No one besides Luo Ye knows he’s the author; his editor and he have never met in person. Even Gu Mingxuan, who knows Luo Ye is always typing, doesn’t know what he writes.
His roommates also don’t know the content—though they’re aware he writes daily, and Wang Dachi often asks him for “R‑18” material. Luo Ye is happy his work is improving. Every novelist dreams of reaching a larger audience, whether through comics, anime, or a TV adaptation.
Lying in bed, Luo Ye received a message from his editor: his novel was set to be adapted into a comic. Because he was a new author, the comic artist would also be a newcomer.
The artist’s skill was solid—a computer whiz with strong art fundamentals. The adaptation only needed to follow the novel’s plot, so it wasn’t particularly demanding.
The manga artist’s pen name: Rice‑Plus‑Water. Rumor had it she had just signed with the Tomato platform a few days prior, and upon signing, she immediately requested to adapt Youth Still Goes On.
Through his editor, Luo Ye was introduced to her for the adaptation discussion. She seemed a bit aloof, refusing personal contact and insisting all communication stay on the Tomato platform. Luo Ye agreed; the platform’s messaging tools were more than enough for the collaboration.
He consented to the adaptation, placing his full trust in the newcomer. After saying goodnight to the fairy senior, he quickly fell asleep.
Meanwhile, in the teachers’ apartments, Qin Yuwen lay on Su Baizhou’s bed in pajamas, noticing a slightly odd expression on Su Baizhou’s face.
“What’s up, Baizhou? You seem extra happy,” Qin asked.
“Is that so?” Su Baizhou replied calmly. She was indeed a little thrilled—today had been eventful.
On Su Baizhou’s computer screen, an image caught Qin’s eye. It appeared to be a cover illustration, strikingly well‑designed.
The girl on the cover was beautiful; the boy beside her was also quite handsome—one cold, one shy.
Qin stared at the picture, the familiarity tugging at her memory. It was a comic‑style draft, still uncolored, which is why she didn’t recognize it immediately.
“This is a draft for the Youth Still Goes On comic cover,” Su Baizhou said.
Qin’s eyes widened. “What?”
She leapt from the bed, hovered over the computer, and after a moment of scrutinizing, asked, “Baizhou, didn’t I recommend that book to you last week?”
“Yes.”
Su Baizhou usually read novels, but she rarely read online literature. After finishing Sherlock Holmes, she’d hit a reading slump. Qin then urged her to read Youth Still Goes On, swearing every reader would want to fall in love after finishing it.
Su Baizhou, skeptical, gave it a try. The first half of the novel was heart‑wrenching: the male lead loved someone he could never have, watching from the shadows of his “white‑moonlight.”
When the senior entered later, everything changed—like a new world opening, the frustration disappearing. She grew to love the book.
Seeing the comment section flood with requests for a comic adaptation, she decided she could do it herself. As a top‑notch computer‑science girl, she had strong technical skills and capable drawing talent; she already dabbled in small animations for her night‑time part‑time job.
She applied to become a Tomato comic artist, seeing it as a stable part‑time gig. A popular novel in the making meant a likely lucrative adaptation.
For Su Baizhou, it was a challenge—though the novel’s content resonated with her, some scenes felt oddly familiar.
“Baizhou, isn’t a talented computer‑science girl drawing comics a bit over‑kill?” Qin asked.
In computing, arts are an extra skill, not a necessity.
“Just a part‑time job. Being a comic artist isn’t a bad thing.”
Su Baizhou didn’t have the wild imagination to create original stories; she could only adapt.
She stared at the draft cover, resumed drawing in her illustration software. The mouse felt like a pencil, sketching characters. Drawing required focus and time, but for her it wasn’t difficult—she had clear reference models: herself and someone else…
- Writer
