Chapter 4

I collapsed, sinking to the ground.

How could this happen?

How could this happen...

Just then, the door opened again.

A beautiful young woman with long hair draped over her shoulders, wearing a red scarf and a down jacket, walked in.

Looking at me, she waved the lunchbox in her hand and smiled.

"Honey, I made chive and egg dumplings, all by myself!"

"Eat them while they're hot!"

She walked in hurriedly, almost tripping.

My body reacted before my mind could process, standing up to steady her.

Memories of her flooded back like a tidal wave, instantly covering the "dream" I couldn't distinguish as real or false.

Meeting my wife, falling in love, supporting each other.

Every little detail, every frame, felt so real and vivid.

Love for her immediately spread through my heart.

She was my wife, Emma.

She was beautiful, a graduate from a prestigious university, working at a bank.

Yet she fell for me, a poor guy with only a middle school education, making a living by hauling goods for supermarkets.

I awkwardly took the lunchbox.

My wife must have sensed something was off.

Her warm fingers touched my forehead with concern: "Honey, what's wrong? Are you too tired?"

I smiled bitterly.

"I had a dream, I dreamed..."

I paused: "I dreamed of a group of robots doing a traditional dance, tossing handkerchiefs."

My wife handed me a bowl of dumplings and couldn't help saying, "I think it would be more believable if you dreamed of them carrying machine guns and throwing grenades."

"You must be too tired from taking care of dad lately. After the New Year, I'll switch to a less busy position so I can help you more."

Grenades...

My wife's words made me feel disoriented.

The smiling face of my mom flashed before my eyes again.

My wife looked worried and pulled my head to rest on her soft chest. I could hear her clear heartbeat.

"Thump thump."

The fear, unease, and doubts in my heart were all pressed down beneath the iceberg by this sound.

"Honey, you've really been through a lot."

My wife couldn't help but try to cheer me up.

"You're so tired you're dreaming about beautiful female robots..."

I couldn't help it either, the tense muscles in my face relaxed, and I squeezed out a smile.

But when I looked up at the TV, the New Year's Eve gala host was interviewing the three male celebrities.

The tone was teasing.

This scene was so familiar.

Was it really all just a dream?