For the first time in her life, Shi Yin was so angry she wanted to curse.

Trembling Raccoon had indeed played his cards well. With over ten thousand retweets for just two chapters, he had essentially received free advertising. In the comments section, there were even “random passersby” controlling the narrative, flooding the area with calls for Raccoon-sensei’s new book.

Shi Yin wasn’t someone who nitpicked. She had even asked him beforehand whether this story would be published or not, to which he had firmly replied in the negative.

At the time, she had even felt a bit sorry for it.

If he had simply told her that the work would also be serialized while collaborating on the manga—a project she loved—she wouldn’t have refused.

There was absolutely no need for all this scheming.

Suppressing her rising anger, she opened the chat window with Trembling Raccoon and typed: [Teacher Raccoon, are you there?]

The next second, his status changed from “online” to “offline,” and his avatar immediately went dark.

Shi Yin: “….”

Finally unable to hold back, Shi Yin cursed under her breath.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her lips upward into a forced smile, silently chanting to herself.

Don’t get mad, fairies don’t get mad, we fairies do NOT get mad!!!!!!!!!

With rapid typing, Shi Yin sent: [Teacher Raccoon, I just saw your Weibo post. Are you about to start serializing this? But when I asked you before, you said you didn’t want to serialize it, right?]

[If you’re going to update daily, my pace with the webtoon definitely won’t keep up with the serialization speed. That would mean spoilers for readers who’ve seen your text. What’s the point of me drawing the manga then? If everyone already knows what happens, aren’t all the suspense and blank spaces I painstakingly create in each chapter just jokes?]

[Isn’t this behavior a bit inappropriate?]

The other side remained completely silent, offering no response.

Shi Yin sneered and continued typing: [Teacher, this circle may seem small, but it’s actually not that small. However, it’s not that big either. Our chat records are still there. Isn’t it a bit off to go back on your word like this, using others as tools without even saying thank you? If people find out, it might affect your reputation in the future.]

Five minutes later, Trembling Raccoon’s avatar lit up again.

Raccoon-sensei remained aloof: [Don’t phrase it so harshly. I never intended to use anyone as a tool.]

[This work is truly a labor of love, and I genuinely want to make a good manga. Since you’ve seen my Weibo post, you should know—it’s because many people asked about the continuation of the plot and wanted to see it as a novel. After all, novels and manga give entirely different experiences.]

[Because so many people wanted it, I made a last-minute decision. Did I say this arrangement wasn’t allowed during our collaboration?]

Shi Yin: “….”

All of this was part of your plan—how could you possibly include this in the collaboration agreement? How could I have known you were playing this trick on me???

Shi Yin thought, unsurprisingly, that a novelist skilled in debate could leave her utterly speechless.

Her clumsy mouth and inability to argue left her completely outmatched.

Perhaps sensing her silence, Trembling Raccoon assumed he had gained the upper hand. His avatar lit up again, and another flurry of words appeared.

[My feelings toward my work, my writing, and my novels are absolutely pure. I didn’t think as complicatedly as Teacher Shi Yi. I really couldn’t foresee all this—it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. You’re overthinking it.]

Shi Yin: “….”

So now it seemed like she was the one with ulterior motives, misjudging him with her petty assumptions?

Infuriated, Shi Yin slumped into her chair, realizing for the first time that it’s better to offend a gentleman than deal with a petty person.

Even if she exposed their chat logs, he could always claim that his Weibo clearly stated it was a last-minute decision due to fan demand. Who could blame him for loving his fans?

Moreover, most people wouldn’t think this issue was serious. They’d just assume the manga updates alongside the novel without conflict, and might even think Shi Yin was making a fuss or being too petty.

Speechless.

Absolutely speechless.

Furious, Shi Yin wanted to throw her mouse.

She opened WeChat, pulled up her university dorm group chat, and posted an angry emoji: [Friends, do you remember that mystery magazine I used to read? There was an author named Trembling Raccoon.]

As she spoke, she took screenshots of their chat logs and bombarded the group with them, angrily shouting: [Have you seen this?! This is exactly the kind of person he is!!! How shameless can you get!!!!!!]

Shi Yin’s roommates were all hot-tempered except for her—the calmest, gentlest, and most easygoing one in the dorm. Once she explained the entire situation, the other three exploded.

A torrent of curses rained down on Trembling Raccoon from every angle—horizontal, vertical, front, and back. The dorm leader nearly composed an 800-word essay of insults. As Shi Yin watched the barrage of messages pop up, she suddenly felt much better.

After they finished venting, her roommate asked: [Are you still going to draw it?]

Slumped over her desk, Shi Yin mumbled: [I guess…]

[Seafood Allergy Nian Nian: …???]

[My Boss Is an Idiot: …???]

[Fairy Never Swears: …What the hell is wrong with you? After all he’s done to bully you, you’re still helping him gain popularity? Can’t you just block him?]

[Seafood Allergy Nian Nian: Master Procrastinator Shi Gu Gu, live up to your title as the Pigeon King! Just ghost him!]

Too lazy to type, Shi Yin sent a voice message, weakly: “I can’t... I already told my fans I’d draw this. Many are following it now. It might feel satisfying to abandon it, but that would mean leaving my fans hanging. I can’t do that to them…”

[My Boss Is an Idiot: …I’m impressed.]

Shi Yin whined: “I’m already miserable, and you’re mocking me.”

The other side switched to voice: “I’m not mocking you—I genuinely admire you. I think your freelance career must be very difficult, with so many things to consider. If I got upset at work, I could quit or switch jobs. But for you, even when you’re mistreated, you still have to think about your fans and readers. Some things you just have to swallow. It’s not easy.”

Shi Yin chuckled: “But most of the time, it’s really enjoyable. When someone privately messages you saying they love your work, or when you see your stories recognized in magazines or single-volume reprints, it’s incredibly fulfilling. You should try it sometime.”

[My Boss Is an Idiot: Sorry, I choose to fight my idiot boss to the death. It’s either her or me—I refuse to lose.]

Shi Yin: “….”

Though usually soft-spoken and agreeable, Shi Yin was by no means someone who let others walk all over her.

She was determined to keep drawing, as she had a large fanbase eagerly awaiting her weekly updates. She couldn’t just abandon the project out of spite and leave her fans hanging.

She directly asked Trembling Raccoon for the remaining scripts.

Since she had previously told him that black-and-white webtoons were quicker to produce than colored ones, she estimated she could complete one chapter per week.

Updates on Weibo didn’t have strict deadlines like magazine serializations, so she could post whenever convenient. Knowing she had another main series to focus on, Trembling Raccoon naturally assumed she could only produce one chapter per week.

Perhaps due to a shred of remaining conscience or guilt, or perhaps because he knew she couldn’t catch up, coupled with the positive reception of his upcoming novel serialization announcement, he generously handed over the remaining scripts without hesitation.

Shi Yin immediately called in Liang Qiushi. She handled the storyboard drafts and main character designs, while delegating background scenes and other details to Liang Qiushi.

The burning anger from being manipulated fueled her productivity, manifesting in her work efficiency.

In the time it took to produce one chapter, she tirelessly completed three.

To put it bluntly, detective mysteries differed from shoujo or romance genres—the suspense of the plot and cases was paramount.

Once his novel began its daily updates, though the word count per day wasn’t high, it would undoubtedly outpace the manga’s release. After readers saw the subsequent developments in the novel, no matter how hard Shi Yin worked on crafting suspense and atmosphere, the impact would be lost. Readers would think, “Ah, I already know what happens here,” rendering her carefully planned panels half-useless.

Conversely, if her manga released first, readers who knew the plot and suspense would find the novel less engaging, affecting subscription numbers.

He updated daily, advancing faster than her. Shi Yin could only push herself to go faster.

After all, she had already helped promote his work, couldn’t fight back, and couldn’t stop drawing.

So why not make him suffer a little too?

Petty people deserved to be treated accordingly. If Trembling Raccoon wanted to use her as a tool, she wouldn’t willingly load the gun for him.

Sure enough, the day Shi Yin released three chapters at once, the number of comments doubled.

Below were cries of gratitude and admiration.

[Ahhh, three chapters! Three chapters! Sensei, you’ve worked so hard uwu]

[I’ll always love you! Sensei, this output is insane qwq Take care of yourself too!]

[I just finished reading—it perfectly aligns with where Teacher Raccoon left off yesterday. I was anxiously waiting for the next chapter, and now I’m finally satisfied.]

Shi Yin was pleased.

After a few exhausting days, she prepared to happily catch up on sleep.

After a shower, as she was shutting down her computer, she noticed a hateful raccoon icon bouncing incessantly in the bottom-right corner of her screen.

Smiling faintly, she clicked it open.

[Trembling Raccoon: ? Isn’t it supposed to be one chapter per update?]

Shi Yin thought for a moment, then slowly typed: [Ah, I originally planned to release one chapter at a time, but Teacher Raccoon’s story is just so captivating! Once I started drawing, I couldn’t stop. I completely forgot to eat or sleep and ended up finishing three chapters without realizing it!]

[You understand, right? Creative work is like that sometimes. When inspiration strikes, it’s hard to stop.]

[Trembling Raccoon: …]

[Trembling Raccoon: Even so, did you have to release all three at once?]

Shi Yin massaged her wrists, which had been working nonstop and creaking painfully, and repeated her earlier words: [Teacher, you know how creative work can be. Sometimes, after finishing something and feeling incredibly satisfied, you just can’t resist sharing it with everyone.]

Trembling Raccoon fell silent.

Shi Yin slumped into her chair, rubbing her sore wrists, so happy she wanted to kick her legs in delight.

Before she could, Gu Congli messaged her on WeChat.

[Chief Editor Gu: What’s going on with your Weibo?]

Shi Yin smiled brightly, like a child seeking praise: [Three chapters in one week!]

[Gu Congli: Each chapter of a webtoon isn’t that long anyway.]

[Shi Yin: Still three chapters.]

Gu Congli paused for a moment, then sent a voice message: “Don’t celebrate too soon. Do you think someone who would scheme against you like this would just take this lying down?”

“…”

Shi Yin didn’t want to dwell on how he always seemed to know everything despite her never telling him anything.

His words suddenly made her uneasy: “Don’t rain on my parade…”

Gu Congli calmly replied: “You can’t win against him, little one.”

Shi Yin dropped her phone and stopped replying.

She didn’t want to hear his pessimistic predictions.

As it turned out, ignoring bad omens didn’t make them go away.

After several sleepless days, Shi Yin’s body was utterly exhausted. She slept until the afternoon and woke up to a flood of @mentions and comments on Weibo.

Stunned, she clicked through them one by one, gradually piecing together what had happened.

Trembling Raccoon had posted a Weibo: [My wife has always loved Teacher Shi Yi’s work, even though I hadn’t heard of her before. Because my wife likes her, I was genuinely looking forward to this collaboration. Although there was a minor disagreement when I decided to simultaneously serialize the novel, it was nothing to me. What I cannot tolerate is my cherished work being arbitrarily altered. I hope Teacher Shi Yi can provide a reasonable explanation.]

Attached were several images: a screenshot of his document, an outline, and their prior agreement stating that Shi Yi couldn’t alter the plot or settings without consulting him. Another image was a screenshot of Shi Yin’s recent manga update.

She opened each image, fully awake now.

The directions were different.

The outline and novel content Trembling Raccoon posted differed entirely from what she had drawn. The plot progression, suspense, and foreshadowing were completely inconsistent.

Moreover, his revised plot was evidently more intricate and polished than the original.

Yet what Shi Yin had drawn came directly from the draft he had initially given her.

While she had added some minor details—since comics and novels inevitably differ—she hadn’t altered any major plot points or foreshadowing.

He had rewritten his outline and subsequent plot overnight.

Shi Yin trembled with rage, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

After graduating, Shi Yin had stayed home to draw manga, leading a simple and sheltered life.

She had never encountered someone like this.

Dropping her phone, she climbed out of bed and hurried into her study to retrieve the subsequent script documents Trembling Raccoon had sent her.

Just as she reached the living room, she heard the soft click of the lock.

Shi Yin turned her head.

Gu Congli stood at the door, holding a key.

The girl was barefoot on the cold floor, her hair disheveled, wearing rumpled pajamas—clearly just woken up.

Autumn nights were chilly, unlike summer. Without underfloor heating in the south, the floor was icy cold.

She stared blankly up at him, recalling his earlier ominous words, and suddenly felt deeply wronged.

Angry, frustrated, and utterly helpless.

Why did she have to deal with such people?

She hadn’t done anything wrong—why did she encounter such detestable individuals?

Gu Congli stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and stood there watching her. He sighed softly: “Come here.”

Shi Yin wrinkled her nose and walked over.

He bent down, pulled a pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet, and placed them by her feet: “Put them on.”

She hesitated for a moment before reluctantly slipping her feet into the slippers, rubbing her nose.

Gu Congli straightened up: “Crying again? Now you know what it feels like to be wronged. Didn’t you think you were so full of ideas? You didn’t tell me anything.”

Shi Yin glared at him, her nose tingling, stubbornly refusing to shed tears: “Who’s crying? I’m furious! I’ve been bullied like this, and it’s only natural to feel a little sorry for myself!”

“I’m not stopping you from feeling sorry,” Gu Congli lowered his gaze, staring at her reddened eyes. He raised his hand, gently wiping the moisture from the corner of her eye with his thumb. His fingers lingered near her ear, lightly pinching her soft earlobe.

“If you had come to me earlier, acted a little spoiled, and told me about this, do you think I’d let anyone bully you? Hmm?”