Lend Me Five Minutes of Tomorrow(借我明天五分钟)

Lend Me Five Minutes of TomorrowPROLOGUEThe Man Who Died Tomorrow At 11:47 p.m. on September 6, 2026, Lin Mo delivered his last order of the night. It was raining in Hangzhou. Not the heavy summer rain that washed the streets clean, but the thin autumn kind that stayed in the air like fog and found its way through every gap in a raincoat. Lin Mo parked his electric scooter beneath Building 17 of Yulan Garden and looked at the plastic bag hanging from his handlebar. One bowl of beef noodles. No coriander. Extra vinegar. The delivery note said: Please knock three times. Do not call. Lin Mo climbed to the sixth floor because the elevator was out of service. When he reached Room 602, he knocked three times. No answer. He waited. Thirty seconds. Then the door opened by itself. Lin Mo frowned. “Hello? Your delivery.” The apartment was dark. A television somewhere inside was playing a weather forecast. “Temperatures will fall sharply tomorrow morning…” Lin Mo did not step inside. Delivery riders learned quickly that curiosity caused trouble. He placed the food beside the door, took a photograph as proof of delivery, and turned around. His phone vibrated. He expected another order. Instead, a notification appeared. There was no application name. No icon. Only black text against a white background. TOMORROW ACCOUNT Lin Mo stared at it. Below the title was another line. Account holder: Lin Mo He touched the notification. Nothing happened. Then new text appeared. Current borrowing privilege: 5 minutes Available period: September 7, 2026 - September 6, 2031 Lin Mo almost laughed. Some kind of advertisement. He tried swiping it away. It remained. He locked his phone. The screen lit again. A final message appeared. Would you like to borrow five minutes from tomorrow? Two buttons appeared. YES NO Lin Mo pressed NO. The screen went black. “Stupid malware.” Behind him, inside Room 602, something fell. Lin Mo stopped. It sounded like a bowl breaking. He looked back. The apartment door was still open. “Hello?” Silence. Then the television spoke again. But the weather forecast had ended. A woman was reading the news. “…police confirmed that twenty-seven-year-old delivery driver Lin Mo was found dead…” Lin Mo froze. His name. His age. He slowly turned toward the apartment. The television screen flickered at the far end of the dark living room. A photograph appeared beside the news anchor. His photograph. Lin Mo stepped backward. The anchor continued. “…the body was discovered approximately five years after his disappearance…” The image vanished. The television became static. Then someone whispered from inside the apartment. “Dad?” Lin Mo ran. He did not stop until he reached the ground floor. His phone vibrated again. The strange notification had returned. This time, there was no NO button. Only one line. You have already borrowed it. And underneath: Repayment begins now.