Frequent natural disasters disrupted people's monotonous, day-in, day-out lives.
On an ordinary afternoon, the apocalypse arrived and living things mutated. Quiet plants learned to attack, lying in wait to hunt their prey; even formerly docile pets might bare their fangs at humans. Crises swept across the land, countless lives vanished in an instant, and human civilization and order rapidly collapsed.
Among the survivors, some began to awaken supernatural abilities.
The good news: Su He was one of them.
Her ability wasn't some flashy, powerful attack skill, but the most plain and simple kind: a storage space. In an apocalyptic world overrun by strange beasts, having a space to hand at least gave her somewhere to take shelter and the means to survive.
The bad news: Su He had obsessive-compulsive disorder.
So what if she had a space? Even just organizing things nearly killed her.
The supplies weren't sorted yet. How could she put anything else in?
Water spilled inside the space. How was she supposed to clean it up?
What if the raw food expired?
What if the cooked food absorbed other smells?
Su He had a massive space and an enormous stockpile of supplies, yet her face remained full of worry.
And people still mocked her: "You've got plenty to eat and drink. What do you have to worry about all day?"
Su He could only smile bitterly without a word. They would never understand how dangerous an apocalyptic storage space could be for someone with OCD.
Ji Linchuan was 22, in the prime of his youth. But as someone in the entertainment industry, he was already a washed-up singer. He'd once gotten a little attention for his looks, though few people remembered him.
More people recognized his face than knew his songs.
As his former manager put it: Ji Linchuan couldn't be called washed-up, because he'd never been famous in the first place.
When his wealthy benefactor's little sister picked him up, Ji Linchuan was standing on a pile of rubble, singing for money. In the end, it turned out his old profession was the only way to make a living.
His old dream of living off someone else had finally come true in the apocalypse: he, Ji Linchuan, had finally been kept!
The timing and location were wrong, and his compensation had gone from thousands or millions in his dream to three meals a day. Oh, and he had to cook for her, too. But it was the end of the world, and he was just a pretty face. Having anyone want him at all was already pretty good.
Ji Linchuan: She must have been moved by my beautiful voice. Otherwise, she's captivated by my peerless looks. Hah, my charm is my apocalypse survival pass.
Su He: No, I wasn't. And no, I'm not. It's not like your big sister is short on supplies. I just don't feel like cooking. Even in the apocalypse, you should treat yourself well.
A story about an OCD-ridden space-wielding heroine who picks up an easygoing little chef hero
Theme: Love life
