Lin Yi can see a countdown to every person's death.
On the subway, at the office, out on the street, everyone has a string of pale blue numbers floating above their head, counting down to the exact second. He's seen spans of decades and journeys of just three minutes. This ability has been with him for three years, turning him into a freak who walks with his head down and never gets close to anyone.
Until he meets Song Zhiyi.
She's a new coworker with eyes that curve when she smiles, but there are no numbers above her head. No countdown, nothing at all. The living have numbers above their heads; the dead don't. Yet she sits alive and well at the desk beside his, typing on her keyboard, drinking milk tea, and even bringing him a cup.
He looks through her social media. Three years ago, she posted a photo outside a shopping mall, tagged at Wanlong Plaza.
But Wanlong Plaza was demolished before she even started school. The milk tea shop she mentioned, the sea-salt cheese foam, the second seat by the window: none of them exist.
Lin Yi decides to get to the bottom of it. Then he discovers a new scar on the back of his neck and a line of writing in his notebook that isn't his.
“Unit 000, your canned food is still sealed.”
Everyone is hiding something from him. The woman who shattered to save him, the person who waited five years for him in a temporal rift, even Lin Yi himself.
He's not a freak.
He's a bridge.
The last bridge connecting two worlds.
