When the takeaway electric car was suspended outside the window on the 18th floor, Lin Mo, a graduate student in history, was struggling with the rising rent in an urban village. The old-fashioned Nokia 3310 he picked up at the subway entrance suddenly glowed red. On the screen saver was a childhood family photo he had never seen before - the date of the shooting clearly stated the day his mother died.
This talking mobile phone drags him into the vortex of "time and space trading": the special ability to glimpse historical fragments by touching old objects makes him a middleman traveling in the cracks of time. Chen Mo, the night shift clerk at a convenience store, always handed over hot milk with blood oozing at three o'clock in the morning, until Lin Mo discovered that the scar on the left side of his face was exactly the same as the one his father had traded with thirty years ago.
At the moment when the 48-hour countdown begins, a flock of crows blocks out the moonlight across the city. In the surveillance video of the morgue, Lin Mo saw himself wearing a shroud pushing his mother's body into the incinerator; and the caller ID that suddenly rang on his cell phone was the number he was shaking at the moment.
"You are killing yourself in thirty-seven times and spaces at the same time." When Chen Mo lifted up his hoodie, all the ultraviolet lights in the morgue suddenly exploded. When Lin Mo finally dialed the fatal call, what came from the receiver was his own gasp before dying——
