MTL - South Korean Entertainment Industry News Record - Chapter 161 chat on set

You know what’s great? Turning eighteen.You know what’s not so great? Opening your eyes to a room you don’t know, followed by the world's most intense headache.This is how my story started. Where it goes from here is anyone's guess.---This is a Pokemon fanfic about a girl that gets brought into the Pokemon world from Earth.---This is my first time writing a fanfic so take it easy. Helpful criticism is appreciated and I may ask for suggestions but in the end I am writing this because I want to. I'm not sure what tags and genre will encompass this story but I will update it as it evolves.

Su Shanshan died a violent death eight years into the apocalypse but somehow, she opened her eyes to find herself reborn. Time had turned back to the day before the apocalypse.

Having the chance to start over filled her with hope. Having lived through the bloody violence of the apocalypse, she now had the skills and knowledge to survive and thrive in the end times. She would repay the man who gave his life trying to save her even though she broke his heart.

The big brother whom she had reviled in her previous life. This time, she would take a chance on love.

As if blessed by the heavens, she had unexpectedly been given a spatial superpower, with which she hoarded resources that would sustain her in the apocalypse.

When the world changed in an instant on Doomsday, and hordes of flesh-eating zombies roamed the place, she set off on a dangerous journey to find him, determined to alter the course of events that unfolded and change what happened in the past.

Characters: Su Shanshan (beautiful, cold, proficient at martial arts), Gu Jincheng (rich, brilliant, awkward in affairs of the heart)

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.

Sometimes, as we go about with our lives, we all happen to think of one specific thought at least once.