#75: The White Dove Fairy Tale (4)

Shi Yin spent an unexpectedly comfortable New Year at home.

Although they lived in the same city, she had returned home only a handful of times since graduating—few enough to count on one hand. More often, it was her mother who visited her.

That evening, after seeing Gu Congli off, Shi Yin stepped back inside to find her father sitting in the living room, sipping tea.

Shi Yin rubbed her nose, took off her shoes, hung her coat on the rack by the entrance, and walked into the house without saying a word.

Halfway in, her father cleared his throat twice.

Shi Yin paused mid-step.

Though she appeared soft, she wasn’t easy to get along with. Her mother once remarked that her temperament was exactly like her father’s when he was younger.

Back then, when her father opposed her decision to draw comics, they had a fierce argument in the study, smashing teacups and vases. After he issued an ultimatum, she stopped coming home altogether. Since then, they hadn’t exchanged a single phone call.

Relatives, including her mother, would often say that as the younger generation, she should be the one to reconcile. After all, he was her father—it wasn’t reasonable for an elder to humble himself and make the first move.

But Shi Yin believed some situations depended on the matter at hand.

If her father were to now respect her career and passion, she would willingly kneel and apologize.

The living room was brightly lit. The apartment she rented was small and simply decorated, reflecting her minimalist lifestyle. Having lived alone for so long, many aspects of her home differed from her family’s house.

The Su embroidery hanging on the walls, the calligraphy brushes, the history books on the coffee table, the knitting basket on the low table in the corner of the sofa—all these, along with the familiar scent of the house, evoked a sense of home.

Her father sat on the sofa, head slightly lowered, holding his favorite purple clay teapot. His eyes darted around the room but avoided meeting hers.

Shi Yin suddenly felt a strange urge to laugh.

But after laughing, she felt a pang of sadness in her nose.

They say daughters are their fathers’ lovers from a past life. In most families, daughters tend to have closer relationships with their fathers.

Shi Yin didn’t know how other daughters were, but compared to her relationship with her mother, she did feel closer to her father.

He was rigid and rarely smiled. As a child, she always thought him strict—he would watch her do homework and forbid her from going out to play.

Yet he was also gentle. On her birthdays, he would painstakingly follow the instructions to bake her a cake, even though it always turned out terrible. On Christmas, he would scold the children for celebrating a foreign holiday, only to secretly slip gifts into her desk drawer that night and pretend to forget about it the next day.

His personality was incredibly stubborn.

From graduation until now, Shi Yin hadn’t seen her father once.

Sometimes, she wondered how his health was doing, but then she’d get busy with other things and push thoughts of him to the back of her mind.

Shi Yin blinked, hesitated for a moment, and then walked over to the coffee table. Her voice was soft. “Dad…”

Her father’s wandering gaze snapped back, and he glanced up at her. “You still remember how to talk to me?”

Shi Yin lowered her head, picking at her fingernails, and remained silent.

Her father shot her a glare, his brow furrowed, his expression full of indignation. “You think you’re all grown up now? You’ve graduated, you can earn money, and suddenly you’re too good for me? What did I say to you? All I said was that I didn’t approve of your job. Did I say anything else? And here you are, sulking with me to this day. Whose temper do you think you inherited?”

“You also told me to go paint outside and not come home until I finished,” Shi Yin murmured softly.

Her father was momentarily speechless, then slammed the table angrily. “I said those two sentences to you, and you haven’t spoken to me for a whole year!”

Shi Yin weakly defended herself. “You didn’t reach out to me either…”

“I’m already halfway buried in the ground, and you expect me to grovel and apologize to you?!” Her father’s eyes widened, veins visibly throbbing on his temple.

“And what was that today, bringing that boyfriend of yours home? Deliberately flaunting your sweetness for everyone to see? Don’t tell me you weren’t trying to provoke me! Ignoring me and being all lovey-dovey with that man—letting him put on your boots, tying your scarf for you! Aren’t you over twenty? Can’t you tie your own scarf? Don’t you feel ashamed of yourself?”

“…”

Shi Mu, sitting nearby, rolled her eyes.

Shi Yin opened her mouth, then closed it again. After blinking a few times, she tentatively ventured, “Dad, are you jealous?”

Her father leapt to his feet. “Jealous? Jealous of what? At my age, do I still have the energy to be jealous?”

Shi Yin obediently lowered her head and murmured, “Oh.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Her father glared at her for a long while before suddenly turning his head away, refusing to look at her. “When you have time, bring that friend of yours over to visit. Today there were too many people, and we didn’t get a chance to talk.”

Shi Yin: “Huh?”

“What ‘huh’? What time is it now? You’ve only just come back!” Her father pointed at the clock. “You went downstairs to see someone off and came back when the Spring Festival Gala started. Hurry up, go take a bath and sleep.”

Shi Yin: “...”

When Shi Yin later recounted this incident to Fang Shu, Fang Shu found it entirely understandable.

“Isn’t Uncle Shi’s personality just like that? He loves you so much. Before, he was the only one who had his precious daughter all to himself, but now you have a boyfriend—and not just any boyfriend, but one you’re so close with. And on top of that, you’re being affectionate with him and not saying a word to your own father. How could he not be upset?”

Shi Yin thought this made perfect sense. The next day, during breakfast, she casually mentioned that she and Gu Congli had had a fight. She described how Gu Congli had groveled in apology, only for her to scold him harshly. Sure enough, her father immediately brightened up, secretly elated for the entire day. By noon, he even personally cooked a meal, cheerfully humming as he slaughtered a chicken.

Men—what mysterious creatures they were.

After the New Year passed, on the seventh day, Shi Yin returned to her little apartment.

The bonus chapters, full-page color illustrations, dust jacket, and inner cover for the first collected volume of Hongming Longque had all been completed and submitted before the holiday. Only the promotional poster to be included as a gift with the book remained unfinished, and Shi Yin had saved that task for the holiday period.

She and her father had finally reconciled, each silently understanding the other’s position. Not wanting to stir up trouble, Shi Yin avoided mentioning anything about her work at home. Even the poster was drawn at a café outside.

That café was one Shi Yin had always liked—it wasn’t far from her home, located on an exotic street in the city center. Though somewhat secluded and not crowded, it was safe enough that she could leave her belongings unattended while using the restroom.

The production process for a collected volume involved more steps than a serialized magazine. The original drafts were sent by the author to the responsible editor, who reviewed them and divided the pages into sections, creating a document called a “layout draft.” This was photocopied and sent back to the author for corrections, also known as the first proofreading.

After the first proofreading was completed, the corrected drafts were sent back to the editor, and the designer handled the layout of the table of contents, frontispiece, and cover. Throughout this process, prior to the deadline, the editor and author would repeatedly proofread and revise until the manuscript was finalized. After confirming the colors for the dust jacket, inner cover, and obi, the files were sent to the printing plant for production.

The entire process was lengthy and intricate. Since the printing plants were closed on weekends and holidays, any issues requiring communication or feedback could only be addressed on weekdays, often stretching the timeline significantly.

When Shi Yin published the first collected volume of ECHO , she spent days correcting the manuscript with Editor Zhao, meticulously adjusting the colors of the dust jacket. The stress caused her hair to fall out in clumps. Now, with Gu Congli handling things, life had become much easier.

The man displayed terrifying efficiency, taking charge of tasks with ease. Many small jobs, such as writing character introductions and creating cutscenes, which Shi Yin found tedious, she simply handed over to him.

Gu Congli happily accepted these tasks and even volunteered to take on more, occasionally asking for a bit of “labor fees” in return.

Thus, one night, after receiving yet another hefty sum, Gu Congli sat contentedly on the edge of the bed, laptop in hand, working on formatting the main character introductions. Meanwhile, Shi Yin lay in bed, suddenly feeling a pang of melancholy.

She couldn’t help but feel she’d gotten the short end of the stick. Normally, many of these smaller tasks were the editor’s responsibility. Somehow, she had unconsciously assumed they were hers and ended up selling herself short.

Silently, Shi Yin wriggled out of the blanket, crawled across the bed, extended her long legs, braced her arms against the headboard, and straddled Gu Congli, peering at him over the laptop. “I can’t help but feel a little ripped off.”

Her voice was hoarse, her lips slightly swollen, looking as if she’d just been thoroughly ravished.

Without looking up, Gu Congli lazily hummed in acknowledgment. Post-coital, his voice was deeper than usual. “Where exactly do you feel ripped off?”

Shi Yin raised her hand, tapping her fingertip against the edge of his laptop. “Back when I worked on my previous collected volumes, sometimes the editor would help write the character introductions. But with you, why does everything come with a price?”

Exhausted, she collapsed limply onto him, her expression mournful and heavy-hearted. “Creating manga is such a sacred endeavor. How could I let it become a transaction? How could I engage in such dirty, vulgar dealings with you? My conscience hurts. You’ve completely tarnished my professional ethics.”

As if he hadn’t heard her, Gu Congli casually patted her bottom through the blanket, his hand trailing from her knee to her thigh. “Are you tired?”

Shi Yin shook her head. “Not really.”

He had been gentle with her lately, usually finishing after just one round. Though she still felt a bit worn out, at least she could survive.

From a beast, he had transformed into a gentler version of himself.

Gu Congli nodded, saved the file, closed the laptop, and set it aside on the bedside table. Hooking his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, his other hand slipping beneath the edge of the blanket.

Startled, Shi Yin scrambled backward, escaping his embrace and sitting upright on the bed. She kicked at him. “Gu Congli, don’t push your luck!”

Gu Congli flipped her over, grabbed her foot, and pulled her back under him. Smiling faintly, he nibbled on her lip. “I’ve been too gentle with you recently. I haven’t heard you cry, and I haven’t been satisfied. Let’s start over.”

“...”

What the hell kind of weird fetish was this?

That night, Gu Congli got his wish. Shi Yin cried until dawn, successfully fulfilling his twisted desires.

As she drifted off to sleep in a daze, Shi Yin resolved that the first thing she would do upon waking up the next morning was to enter Gu Congli’s 30th birthday into her phone calendar as a major event. She’d set a hundred alarms to remind herself, counting down the days one by one.

Then, on that day, she would celebrate the arrival of his precious 30th birthday with drums, gongs, and fireworks.

After the Awakening of Insects, the weather began to warm up.

By the time of the Spring Equinox, City S had seen several bouts of rain. Temperatures fluctuated unpredictably, neither rising nor falling consistently. The air remained damp and sticky, showing no signs of warming up.

Two weeks earlier, the first collected volume of Hongming Longque had been fully proofread and sent to the printing plant. That morning, Shi Yin received the first printed sample.

She was asleep when the delivery arrived. After signing for it, she carelessly placed it on the sofa and went back to bed to continue sleeping.

She had barely fallen back asleep when her phone rang again.

Frowning, she groped for it and answered groggily, her eyes still closed. “Hello...”

“Who did you show the poster to?” As soon as the call connected, Gu Congli launched straight into questioning.

Still half-asleep, Shi Yin mumbled, “Hmm...?”

“The promotional poster for Hongming Longque . Li Nian’s magazine came out today, and she’s featured on the cover. Take a look.”

Shi Yin paused, slightly more awake at the mention of Li Nian’s name. After hanging up, she opened the chat with Gu Congli and clicked on the image he had sent.

It was a photo of the magazine’s cover. When she saw it, she froze, her foggy brain gradually snapping into clarity.

Shi Yin abruptly sat up in bed, all traces of sleepiness gone. Her fingertips turned cold, and her scalp tingled.

The composition of the full-color cover illustration was almost identical to the promotional poster she had designed for Hongming Longque .