Do you have an app on your phone that just won't uninstall?
One where you tap delete, confirm when it asks, watch it spin…
and the icon stays right there, like nothing happened.
I do.
And it rented me a power bank.
This was three years ago.
Looking back, I never should have tapped "Agree".
My name is Chen Yuan. Twenty-six.
I work as an operations clerk at an e-commerce company south of the city.
Pay is enough to get by, nothing more.
Nine-to-five, occasional overtime, gaming on weekends.
My life was plain, tasteless, but safe.
It was Wednesday. I remember clearly, because the Lanzhou Noodle shop downstairs had a special: ￥15 minus ￥3.
I went for beef noodles with a fried egg. Total ￥14. Not bad.
When I walked out, my phone vibrated.
Battery: 12%.
I didn't bring a power bank. I never did.
Half the anxiety of modern life comes from low battery.
The other half comes from waiting for your salary.
I glanced at the Monster Power Bank machine by the mall entrance — bright orange, hard to miss.
I'll borrow one.
I scanned the code with WeChat.
A page popped up: permissions, deposit, pricing rules, a wall of text.
I didn't read it. Just tapped the blue button at the bottom.
Another window: "Activate deposit-free rental?"
I agreed.
Click.
A power bank popped out. White and orange, heavy in my hand.
I charged my phone while walking. By the time I got back to the office, it was at 41%.
I set the power bank on my desk and got back to work.
At 5:30, I packed up to leave.
The power bank still had about 30% left.
I didn't return it. Figured I might need it later.
But I didn't go out that night.
Stayed on the couch scrolling short videos, my phone plugged into the home charger.
The borrowed power bank lay quietly on the coffee table, like a white brick.
Next morning, I stuffed it into my bag.
Downstairs at the office, I went to return it first.
The orange machine was still there.
I scanned the code: "Insert power bank into empty slot."
I pushed it in.
Click.
A green light flashed.
Phone screen updated:
Return Successful.
I checked the time: 8:59. Just in time for clock-in.
Everything seemed normal.
The weirdness started the next day.
Thursday morning, I was on the toilet scrolling when a WeChat Pay notification popped up.
Monster Power Bank deducted ￥40.
Forty?
I opened the app.
Order page showed: Still charging. Total time: 1 day 12 hours.
But I returned it.
I stared for ten seconds.
My first thought wasn't anything supernatural. Just a bug.
Shared bikes do this. Food delivery does this. Normal stuff.
I found customer service — a bot.
I selected "Order issue" → "Still charging after return".
Bot replied: Please provide photo of return.
Who takes a photo after returning a power bank?
I queued for human service.
After five minutes, someone picked up.
They told me to go check if the power bank was still in the slot.
I said I definitely returned it. Right downstairs, yesterday morning.
They said: Please confirm on-site and send a photo.
I was annoyed, but I went.
Took the elevator down, walked to the machine.
Checked every slot.
Nothing.
The white-and-orange power bank I borrowed was gone.
Screen showed all slots full.
I sent a photo.
The reply made my chest go cold.
"Sir, according to our system, your power bank has not been returned.
If it is not in the machine, it may have been taken by someone else."
Taken?
This isn't a bike. Once you slot it, it locks.
No one can take it without scanning.
I explained again. I heard the click. Saw the green light.
Service was silent, then said:
"System shows unreturned. We can only go by system.
You may apply to pause charging. Staff will verify within 24 hours."
I applied.
Went back to work.
Annoying, but not worth losing sleep over.
Forty yuan, whatever.
I told my colleague Lao Zhao about it at lunch.
Lao Zhao was a veteran, seen everything.
"Shared stuff? Their customer service is useless," he said, spitting sunflower seed shells.
"Last time I rode a bike, parked properly, they fined me ￥15.
Gave me a ￥5 coupon. Like I'm a beggar."
I said: "So my ￥40 is gone?"
"Gone. If you waste hours calling complaints, maybe get half back.
Is your time worth ￥40? Just write it off."
I agreed. Two milk teas. Forget it.
Then the next day, it got worse.
Friday morning, another deduction.
This time: ￥88.
I opened the app.
Amount: ￥88 and still rising.
Total time: 2 days 18 hours.
Pause request still: "Processing".
I tried customer service again.
No human available. Only bot: "Your request is urgent. Please wait."
Wait.
I stared at the climbing number.
Something felt off.
Not the money. A cold, crawling feeling — like someone's behind you, but when you turn, no one's there.
Eighty-eight yuan.
Deposit for a power bank is only ￥99.
I went downstairs again.
Sun was bright. I checked every slot again.
Still empty. Machine showed full.
I sent another photo.
Reply was identical, except now they called me "Mr. Chen".
I closed it.
That afternoon, I couldn't focus.
Not because of money.
Where was the power bank?
I returned it. It wasn't in the machine.
Then where? Who took it? How?
Questions looped in my head.
When I left work, I checked my phone again.
Charging had stopped.
Total: ￥188.00
In the remarks section — a line I'd never seen before.
Bought you one day.
I stared.
Bought you one day.
What does that mean?
Who bought? Which day? With what?
188 yuan for one day.
A ridiculous thought popped up. I pushed it down.
Just a bug. A messy remark from some tester.
I'd seen worse when I did operations.
But that night, I couldn't sleep.
Bedroom dark. Curtain cracked open.
Streetlight sliced across the ceiling like a faint scar.
I opened the order again.
￥188.
Bought you one day.
Last update: 5:13 PM.
I turned it off.
Next day was Saturday.
Woke up around nine. Sunlight warm.
I stretched and grabbed my phone.
Battery: 100%.
I froze.
I didn't charge it.
Before sleeping, it was around 40%. Dropped to 30% after videos.
I was too lazy to plug in.
But now full.
The cable hung loose from the socket.
Phone port clean, no marks, no smell.
Battery health still 83%, same as yesterday.
Maybe I forgot. Maybe I plugged it and pulled it out in my sleep.
People zone out.
But the power bank still bothered me.
I opened the app again.
Order still there. ￥188. Remark still there.
I took a screenshot, ready to show someone.
Then realized I didn't know who to send it to.
Lao Zhao would say I was obsessed.
Classmates would laugh.
I exited. Decided to ignore it.
Delete the app. Never borrow again.
I long-pressed the orange icon.
Tap delete. Confirm.
Icon wobbled, vanished.
I locked the phone, relieved.
Washed up, came back.
Picked up the phone.
The orange icon was back.
Exactly where it was.
Like nothing happened.
I wasn't imagining it.
I unlocked, deleted again.
Watched it disappear.
Locked. Counted ten seconds.
Unlocked.
Back again.
I sat on the bed, palms sweating.
Phone hacked? iOS doesn't get hacked that easy.
Anti-uninstall feature? A power bank app has no reason for that.
Unless this app wasn't normal.
I opened Settings.
No Monster Power Bank in the application list.
I checked twice.
But on the home screen, it sat bright and clear.
I recorded a video.
Delete → disappear → lock → unlock → reappear.
Thirty seconds. Clear as day.
I posted it on a local forum.
Title: Anyone had an app that won't uninstall?
A dozen replies.
Trolls. Photoshopped. Reset your phone.
One guy seriously explained system bugs.
Only one caught my eye.
Username: SouthCityLaoZhang
Comment: Is your power bank still charging?
I messaged him.
He replied fast:
"Borrowed, returned, wouldn't stop. Deducted over ￥500. Remark said: Bought you three days."
My heart raced.
I asked: What happened then?
He sent a voice — mid-thirties, rushed:
"I ignored it. Stopped after 500. But after that, I kept forgetting things.
Things I swear I did, people say I didn't.
Things people say I said, I don't remember.
Like someone took my days and stuffed something else in."
Text follow-up:
"If you're not too far gone, find that power bank.
Returning doesn't work.
You have to take it out of the machine yourself. Only then it ends."
I asked: What do you mean take it out?
No reply.
Messages showed "Read".
That night, I ordered takeout, stared at the TV blankly.
Bought you one day.
LaoZhang: 500 for three days.
Which day was mine?
Already gone? Or coming?
The full battery this morning… maybe not a mistake.
Maybe it was part of that "day".
Around eleven, I brushed my teeth.
Checked the app again. Same order.
Placed phone on nightstand. Turned off light.
Just as I closed my eyes, it vibrated.
A push notification from Monster Power Bank.
Not a coupon. Not a reminder.
Plain text, system-style:
Your power bank is overdue by 24 hours. Please return to avoid extra fees.
I read it three times.
Overdue 24 hours.
But I returned it three years ago.
I sat up.
Wait.
No.
I opened the order.
Order created:
Today.
2026-04-12
Time used: 1 day 2 hours.
Amount: ￥26.00.
No ￥188. No remark.
Nothing.
Like a brand new order.
I froze. Phone light on my face.
WeChat Pay history:
Old deductions — 40, 88, 188 — all gone.
Replaced by new charges from midnight:
￥2 per 30 minutes. Total ￥26.
App:
Current rental: 1 device. In use.
I looked at the nightstand.
Nothing but lamp, cup, charger.
No power bank.
But the app said I had one.
I wanted to message LaoZhang.
Ask if he reset too.
Chat history was still there.
Voice still there.
"If you're not too far gone…
returning doesn't work.
take it out of the machine."
Time: 1:47 AM.
I put on clothes and left.
Streetlights yellow. Empty road.
Wind cold on my face.
I half-walked, half-ran.
Fifteen minutes to office. I did it in ten.
Old building. Glass door broken, chained shut.
I squeezed through the gap.
Sensor lights flickered on. Buzzing.
Down the hall, elevator lobby.
There it was.
The orange machine.
Exactly like three years ago.
Screen was bright.
Not standby. Active.
Words: Insert power bank into empty slot.
One slot blinking green.
Like a heartbeat.
I scanned the code.
No rental rules. No confirm button.
Only one line:
You have an unfinished order. Please return the power bank.
Two buttons:
View Order
Contact Service
I checked the order.
Same new one. 1 day 3 hours. ￥28.
Created 2026-04-12 00:03.
I stared at the blinking light.
LaoZhang said:
Return doesn't work.
You have to take it out.
Not put in. Take out.
I reached for the slot cover.
Pulled.
It opened.
Empty.
No power bank.
Then a sound.
Click.
Soft. Mechanical.
Not from the machine.
From behind me.
I spun.
Hall bright. Nothing there.
Phone vibrated.
System notification. No icon. No avatar.
Black card, white text:
Power bank taken out. Usage started.
My battery dropped:
67 → 66 → 65 → 64…
Falling fast, one percent per second.
Phone back heated up.
I flipped it over.
A power bank was stuck to it.
White and orange.
Three lights on.
Magnetized, connected by some port I'd never seen.
I pulled.
It wouldn't budge.
Like it grew into the phone.
I slammed it on the floor.
Screen cracked. Web-like lines.
Power bank still attached.
Three lights became two.
Still charging.
Broken screen still on.
Battery still falling:
43 → 42 → 41…
I realized.
It wasn't charging my phone.
It was draining it.
I picked up the phone.
App order changed.
Amount: ￥188.00
Remark returned:
Bought you one day.
Beneath it, smaller, fainter:
Time used: 0 days.
Time deducted: 1 day.
It wasn't charging money.
Money was just a cover.
It was charging time.
188 yuan wasn't the cost.
I traded one day for 188.
That day was taken.
April 11th.
I didn't remember it at all.
Not like amnesia.
Like the date was ripped off the calendar.
I stood in the dark until the sensor light died.
One light left on the power bank.
Then it went out.
A soft dragging sound came from the fire exit.
Slow. Steady. Coming closer.
I backed into the machine.
Screen lit up.
Select rental duration.
Options:
1 day
7 days
30 days
365 days
Bottom line, grayed out:
Custom
I don't remember how I got home.
Only that sky was pale blue when I arrived.
Sat on the sofa.
Phone on the table, cracked screen glinting.
Power bank still attached, like a fed leech.
I watched until morning.
Traffic. Breakfast smells.
World normal.
Only I was missing a page.
April 11th, Wednesday.
Gone.
Phone vibrated.
Calendar alert:
Tomorrow: Rent due ￥1500
I looked at the number.
Looked at the power bank.
About 8 days.
I washed up.
Stared in the mirror.
Twenty-six, tired, messy hair, acne.
I bent to spit toothpaste.
Corner of my eye:
The reflection didn't bend.
Just stood there, staring at me.
I snapped up.
Normal again.
Maybe a trick.
Maybe not.
I went back, picked up the phone.
Orange icon still there.
Long press.
Delete? Confirm.
Gone.
Waited ten seconds.
Nothing.
One minute.
Still gone.
I exhaled. Almost smiled.
Then a text.
Sender: 0000
Message:
Your power bank is still in use. Please return on time.
Overdue = auto-renew.
A soft sound from the phone.
Zzzt.
At the charging port, a tiny light turned on.
Orange.