Chapter 201: The Relationship Is Quite Complex (Requesting Monthly Tickets!)

Chapter 201: A Rather Complicated Relationship (Vote for me!)

Old Man Sleepy continued to embody the spirit of being lackadaisical about updates but hyper-active about everything else. Single-handedly, he rounded up over a dozen authors in no time, shooting a private message to Meng Fan: "They're all rich idiots."

Meng Fan was speechless. Could anyone possibly be more of an idiot than you?

Within five minutes, there were over thirty authors in the group.

These authors were a wild bunch. Not one of them asked about the illustrations; they all fixated on a single, related topic: hand speed.

"Boss Meng, how did you train your hand speed?"

These web-novel authors couldn't care less about how brilliant Meng Fan’s art was, how magical his jump shots were, or how pleasant his singing voice was. But when it came to his hand speed, their eyes glowed with raw, green envy.

"I’m so curious, how many words could you type in an hour with that speed?"

"At least ten thousand an hour, right!"

"A tentacle monster!"

"Invisible hands!"

"I am officially jealous!"

"Oh heavens, grant me a pair of hands like that!"

"I’m more curious about how many seconds you last when you’re... you know, 'handling' yourself, haha!"

"It’s definitely shorter than Li Ronghao’s new song, 'Beibei'!"

"Heh, look up 'accidental discharge'!"

"Get out of here, you pervert!"

"No time to explain, everyone get on the train!"

"Drive! Drive toward the edge of the city! Roll down the windows... actually, weld the windows shut, nobody is getting off this train today!"

"Seriously though, Boss Meng, any tips on increasing hand speed?"

Watching the WeChat group veer wildly off-track, Meng Fan was filled with awe. *Swish, swish, swish*—over a hundred new messages popped up in an instant. Good grief, were all web-novel authors this chaotic in group chats?

Meng Fan naturally ignored the hand speed question and typed into the group: "Listen, I’m going to add the members of my studio. They’re all graduates and current students from our university, mostly pretty young ladies. Everyone, slow down the train; I’m afraid they’ll get motion sickness. Once they’re in, they’ll showcase their work, and you can contact the artists based on your needs."

Meng Fan briefed his studio members and pulled Wang Yanan into the group; he didn't have the others' WeChat contacts yet, so he left the rest to her.

The authors in the group immediately hopped off the train, suddenly acting as refined as could be.

The chatter died down—whether they were busy stalking the new ladies' Moments was anyone's guess.

Honestly, any pretty girl who sets her Moments to "visible for only three days" is committing a crime!

As for the train speed and motion sickness, Meng Fan had clearly underestimated his seniors.

Oh, and his juniors, too.

"This should do, right?"

After setting up the group, Meng Fan looked at Qin Jiao. She smiled and nodded, giving him a look that said, *You’re finally showing some common sense.*

As for the hand-drawn posters, Meng Fan had wanted to provide contact info, but he wasn't sure how many studio members could handle such commissions. The pay was high, but the requirements were even higher.

Still, Meng Fan asked, "What about the hand-drawn posters?"

This time, Qin Jiao shook her head. "I’ve seen your posters and I know what they demand. Our studio can’t handle that level of complexity yet. For the simpler ones, I’ll find someone to introduce."

The studio members quickly divided into groups based on their styles and strengths to connect with the thirty-plus web-novel titans.

As the authors' pockets grew deeper, and with the rise of official accounts, the demand for illustrations in the web-novel sphere was skyrocketing. It was a fresh cake for the illustration industry, and many artists—especially those without much fame—had their eyes on it.

However, eating this cake wasn't simple. Just because the demand was high didn't mean authors would take anything; they had quality standards. If the quality was mediocre, many readers were willing to draw for free.

Yet, the illustrators eyeing this market often lacked the fame to earn the authors' trust. Authors were busy with updates and didn't want to chat much; they usually just said, "Read the novel and draw a few samples." With little communication between the two parties, it was no wonder collaborations often ended in dissatisfaction.

It wasn't that the lesser-known artists lacked skill.

But Meng Fan’s presence allowed the studio to easily break into this circle.

Because of Old Man Sleepy’s enthusiasm, many authors had already seen and admired Meng Fan’s work. Thus, it was easy for Sleepy to gather these clients. With a good first impression, the authors were more than willing to communicate with the studio members. And with better communication, the resulting illustrations were bound to be superior.

The studio members took this seriously; the key was long-term cooperation, high volume, and decent pay.

With the commission side settled, the rest was up to them. Meng Fan slipped out of the conference room while they were busy.

"Wait." Qin Jiao followed him out. "Thinking of sneaking off already?"

Meng Fan said, "Doesn't look like there's anything left for me to do. I’m just going to wander around."

"I know you're a busy man. Come on, I'll drive you back." Qin Jiao was in a good mood now that the commissions were sorted, though she still grumbled, "I’ll stop by the publishing house to handle your business while I'm at it. As a university teacher, I have nothing but time!"

"Oh, right. I’ll send you my refined image library later. It should be useful for them."

"At least you’re sensible. Also, you need to come over when you're free to tutor them on illustrations and hand-drawn posters."

"...Understood."

"By the way, what’s the deal with your sand art? Even Wen Wan has the urge to strip you down and take a closer look!"

"Is this how all female university teachers talk?"

...

The only person in the conference room not busy was Zhang Zhouwei. After pouring water for the big shots, he had nothing to do but play on his phone. Watching Meng Fan and Qin Jiao leave, a terrifying, lewd thought crossed his mind.

He was the only one present who knew the true relationship between Meng Fan and Qin Jiao, and he wasn't surprised at all that they had opened a studio together.

Meng Fan’s mother was Qin Jiao’s teacher; Zhang Zhouwei had known that for a while.

On the surface, they were student and teacher, but in reality, they were senior and junior, and now, business partners.

"That’s a rather complicated relationship!"

If he didn't know that Meng Fan was head over heels for Wu Tong and was a total coward to boot, his thoughts would have been even bolder.

"Honey."

Zhang Zhouwei, lost in his own imagination, suddenly heard a sweet, syrupy voice. He immediately braced himself, his caution spiking. Experience had taught him that the word "honey" was often a sugar-coated grenade.

"Honey, you’re the person who knows my art style and habits best in this world, right?"

"Is that... yes, absolutely!"

"Then you’re also familiar with my painting style and habits, right?"

"...Yes!"

"Then I’m leaving the post-production to you!"

"What post-production? I don't quite... understand, understand, understand! I absolutely understand! Not just the post-production of your illustrations, but the post-production of your entire life is in my hands!"

Wang Yanan rolled her eyes at Zhang Zhouwei. This cheesy pickup line sounded incredibly creepy!

If this guy were half as diligent with other things as he was with his mouth, she wouldn't have to nag and force him so much.

Other people looked for a boyfriend; she felt like she’d found a son.

A rather complicated relationship indeed!