The First Dream

Honestly.

If there were truly other options, Tang Yao really didn't want to draw it herself.

Because she didn't want to do the same work as her previous life. It took a long time, didn't earn much, and she'd have to face an unpredictable future after AI emerged... Of course, the most important thing was that she didn't want to go through the experience of drawing day and night again.

She had already lived through it once, and the final outcome wasn't great: herniated lumbar disc, cervical strain, chronic sleep deprivation, eye fatigue, and it seemed she had even died in the end.

It was precisely because of this that she couldn't understand the original host's desire to become a Manga Artist.

Although she had never officially serialized a manga, and the industry in China wasn't prosperous in her previous life, she had seen pigs run even if she hadn't eaten pork... As a Dream Eater once said, a Manga Artist is someone who makes a living by drawing manga.

But even being able to serialize in a weekly magazine didn't guarantee safety. If a manga lost popularity, it would be immediately canceled. Only less than one in ten thousand people could make a lifelong living as a Manga Artist, and even those who reached that level earned an average annual income comparable to ordinary office workers.

Geniuses gambling their lives for something like this was simply like gambling.

And after serialization, not being canceled only meant the beginning. The path of a professional Manga Artist was very long, in a sense, it was like running a marathon with no visible end.

Those Manga Artists that most people are familiar with have actually been running this marathon for half their lives.

But the vast majority never even got the chance to start running the marathon.

So Tang Yao didn't quite understand.

Was it for the dream?

Dream...

Tang Yao looked at the drawing paper in front of her and suddenly fell silent.

She suddenly couldn't remember why she had learned to draw in her previous life.

The initial spark had long since vanished under the suffocating future and the pressure of reality, replaced by numbness.

Eventually, it devolved into just complaining about the planners and drawing seductive female characters by imitating popular mobile games according to requirements.

Repeating day after day, year after year.

Until just before she died, she even started regretting why she had chosen this profession.

And after coming here, she subconsciously resisted picking up a pencil again.

Why?

Why did she learn to draw in the first place?

Oh... it seemed she also wanted to become a Manga Artist.

But later, for survival, for bread, the initial dream gradually disappeared.

She was no longer naive, no longer innocent, and started striving to survive in the adult world.

Thinking of this.

Tang Yao took a deep breath, remained silent for a moment, and then muttered to herself, "My so-called lack of understanding is just an excuse for my degenerate self in my previous life. How despicable..."

"What are you doing?"

At this moment.

Xun's voice rang out.

The girl appeared at the bedroom door, looking at Tang Yao, who was sitting in a chair staring blankly at the drawing paper, with some confusion.

Tang Yao turned her head and looked at the girl standing there gracefully... Honestly, even though their souls had no connection, she still felt a sense of closeness to the girl in front of her, and whenever she looked at her, memories belonging to the original host would flood in.

She remembered the difficult years she and this younger sister had gone through, and every small event that had happened.

Those memories kept changing her.

They even made her remember her original dream.

...Probably.

Tang Yao gently shook the pencil in her hand, then smiled brightly and said, "Your sister here is preparing to pick up her dream of being a Manga Artist again."

"Didn't you say you gave up?"

Tang Xun came up behind her sister, reached out to touch her long, wet hair, and then went to the shelf by the bed to search for something.

"I definitely can't be a professional Manga Artist."

Tang Yao smiled again. "After all, the difficulty of making money is too high, and it takes too long. In comparison, I think other industries are easier to make money in, like games, but being a Manga Artist out of interest isn't bad either... is it?"

"I don't understand what you're saying."

Tang Xun returned behind Tang Yao with a hairdryer. The whirring sound of the machine and the warm wind accompanied it.

"It's right that you don't understand."

Tang Yao smiled, turned back to face the drawing paper, a captivating smile on her beautiful face, and whispered, "I just suddenly remembered my original dream."

"..."

Tang Xun looked at her sister's profile, saying nothing.

After a while.

She suddenly thought of something and said, "Washing and drying my hair every day is really troublesome."

Tang Yao didn't hear clearly and tilted her head slightly. "Huh?"

"Your hair."

Tang Xun turned off the hairdryer. "It's such a hassle to dry it every time."

"You don't have to worry about me, I can dry it myself."

Tang Yao snapped back to reality, turned her head to look at the girl gathering her long hair, and smiled, "How about I cut it short in a while?"

"..."

Tang Xun paused, then replied, "Why would you do that to your own hair? You said you wanted to cut it short a week ago..."

Tang Yao put on a reminiscent expression and joked, "Isn't that how it is in anime and manga? The protagonist who undergoes a change cuts her long hair short..."

"What kind of anime are you even watching? Who in real life cuts their long hair short just because something happens? Do you have to mess with your hair just to show you're changing?"

Tang Xun dryly commented with a blank expression, then turned the hairdryer back on. She gently ran it through her sister's long hair, carefully separating any tangled strands, and constantly moved the hairdryer: "So strange."

But on the other side, Tang Yao didn't hear her.

She started thinking about what she should draw.

Although some past memories had given her a sudden realization and even a long-lost surge of passion, emotions couldn't fill a stomach.

She still needed to calm down and think about what she should draw.

Even if it was a substitute, and she wasn't famous, she'd treat it as a memorial to her past self and give it her all.

So, what should she draw?

Tang Yao began to recall the many manga she had read, flipping forward, all the way back to the very beginning.

What manga had made her decide to become a manga artist in the first place?

It seemed to be... horror manga.

Junji Ito's horror manga.

Thinking of this.

Tang Yao smiled knowingly, feeling it was quite fitting. Manga awards had length restrictions, and horror manga had many short stories. Most importantly... it was the genre that could deliver the most impact.

Since it was just a transitional work to get her through this period, she didn't have any grand ambitions. The more impactful, the better.

With that thought.

The smile on Tang Yao's face grew even brighter.

Junji Ito's manga was indeed quite impactful.

Those scenes...

Yeah.

It felt like she had an idea.

How about... Uzumaki!

"All done."

At some point.

The hairdryer was turned off, and Xun's voice rang out again: "Remember to wear the outfit on the bed tomorrow."

"Outfit?"

Tang Yao, still lost in her own world, was startled by the sudden words and looked confused.

Tang Xun turned and pointed to the dress laid out on the bed.

Tang Yao glanced back, then her expression turned subtle. "Xun, I'm your older sister, not your dress-up doll."

Tang Xun looked her sister up and down. Even sitting, her exquisite curves were clearly visible. Thinking of the clothes in the washing machine, she retorted, "You have such a great figure, why choose such an old-fashioned style?"

"Because it's comfortable."

"..."

Tang Xun stared silently at her sister, her fair little face expressionless.

"..."

Tang Yao knew her reason was a bit weak. She tilted her head and asked, "Are you not satisfied with that reason?"

"Not satisfied."

"Then put yourself in my shoes, do you like being stared at when you walk down the street?"

"...Not really."

"So, you don't need to pick out clothes for me anymore. Your sister doesn't need to dress up."

Hearing this, Tang Xun's left hand, which was hanging naturally, clenched into a fist. "If it's because of money..."

"It has nothing to do with that!"

Tang Yao smiled, then puffed out her chest and declared, "But, Sister will definitely make money!"

Tang Xun looked at her sister, who had puffed out her proud chest and was full of spirit, and suddenly said, "Actually... you can just ignore me and kick me out of the house. That way, you'll never have to see my grumpy face again."

"Why would I kick you out?"

Tang Yao looked at her sister in surprise. "Then what's the point of me making money? Why are you even talking about this?"

It was like before she arrived.

This sister had occasionally said things about kicking her out.

It was strange.

"..."

Tang Xun fell silent, gazing at her sister. She didn't answer, just turned and walked outside. "I'll get you a glass of water."

"Okay~ Thank you."

Tang Yao watched the girl hurry out the door, feeling a little confused.

But she didn't pay it much mind. Soon, she withdrew her gaze, her attention returning to the desk as she began to recall the manga that had introduced her to the art.

Those bizarre, twisted heads...

As she thought...

Tang Yao became engrossed, her hands moving unconsciously.

Meanwhile.

Tang Xun poured a glass of water and gently placed it on the corner of the table. She then glanced at Tang Yao's profile, who was completely focused, before turning to tidy the bedding. She played on her phone for a while, then went out of the room to hang the clothes from the washing machine and tidy up the living room a bit.

By the time she finally had free time, it was already ten-thirty.

When Tang Xun returned to the room again.

Tang Yao was still sitting at the desk, constantly sketching something.

She didn't disturb her. Instead, she turned and climbed onto the bed. Then, she lay on her side and continued to stare at the graceful figure at the desk. After watching for a while, she withdrew her gaze, took out her phone, confirmed the camera shutter was silent, and took a picture of Tang Yao's back.

Then, she started writing in her diary.

Tang Yao, on the other hand, drew until the early hours of the morning. During this time, she only left her desk once to turn off the main light and switch to a desk lamp, so as not to disturb Tang Xun's rest.