After the rain in the evening, takeaway boy Chen Mo delivered food to Lao Liu's home. He has the strange ability to see the countdown of other people's lives, and the numbers are accurate to the sky. While picking up his meal, he noticed that the numbers above his boss, Lao Liu, briefly blurred and jumped.
Deliver new orders to Dongcheng Garden high-end community, room 1802
It was half past six in the evening, the rain had just stopped, and the asphalt road reflected the wet neon light. Chen Mo parked his electric car in front of Lao Liu's home cooking. He took off his helmet and hung it on the handlebar. His hair was soaked in sweat and stuck to his forehead.
He raised his eyelids and glanced at the number above the head of the fat boss behind the cashier in the store: 12,783 days. The number on the head of the worker peeling garlic next to him was 25,641 days. It's normal, they are still growing. The phone vibrated, and a new order popped up: 1802, Building 7, Dongcheng Garden, one portion of pickled fish, please note more spicy, thank you.
When Chen Mo took the packing bag, his fingers touched the plastic handle, which felt cold to the touch. He turned around to leave, and Old Liu stuck his head out of the kitchen: Xiao Chen, wait a minute! Hand over a bottle of mineral water. It's hot, so take it and drink it. Thank you, Uncle Liu.
Chen Mo unscrewed it and took two sips.
