Zhou Huaian held Lin Xiaoxiao tightly, gently stroking her back. "Don't cry, it was just a dream.

Everything's fine now. Look—you're okay. We're all okay."

But Lin Xiaoxiao only cried harder, her breath catching in ragged sobs. "No, it's not okay. Nothing is okay. I want to go home, Zhou Huaian... I want to go home."

He held her closer, his own fists clenching silently. He knew she wasn't talking about her family in the provincial capital—she meant her real home, the world she came from. A place he couldn't follow. If she left, would she ever return?

The more she cried, the more the baby kicked—as if reminding her, We're here, Mom. Don't go. Don't be sad.

Slowly, Lin Xiaoxiao came back to herself. Still weeping, she placed a hand on her belly, then guided Zhou Huaian's there too. "The baby's moving," she whispered brokenly. "I might never go back now."

A fresh wave of grief washed over her. How could she make him understand this pain? How could she explain that her brother—the one who had always protected her—was gone forever?

Under his palm, Zhou Huaian could feel the faint, fluttering movements. It should have been a joyful moment, but all he felt was helplessness as his wife cried in his arms. What nightmare could have hurt her so deeply?

She cried until her tears ran dry and her voice grew hoarse, fading finally into quiet, shaky breaths. But the ache in her chest remained.

That afternoon, when Li Yunlan and Zhou Zhennan came over, they found Lin Xiaoxiao sitting on the bed, her eyes red and swollen, still glistening with unshed tears.

Without a second thought, Li Yunlan turned on Zhou Huaian. "Did you make her cry? How could you upset your own wife, especially when she's pregnant? What's wrong with you?"

She didn't wait for an explanation—who else could have reduced Lin Xiaoxiao to such a state?

Zhou Huaian stayed silent, accepting the blame.

Li Yunlan scolded him at length—about how difficult pregnancy was, how Lin Xiaoxiao was carrying his child, how he ought to be more patient. Arguing wasn't good for the baby, or for their marriage.

Rubbing her sore eyes, Lin Xiaoxiao finally spoke up, her voice rough. "Mom, it's not his fault. I had a bad dream—that's why I was crying."

But her strained voice only convinced Li Yunlan further. In all the time she'd known Lin Xiaoxiao, the girl had never been one to hold grudges. She might be a little spoiled sometimes, but she was reasonable and kind. Li Yunlan glared at Zhou Huaian. "Even after you upset her, she's still defending you. You should be ashamed. Go to town and buy her some cake. Make it up to her."

Despite her sadness, Lin Xiaoxiao felt a warmth spread through her. However heartbroken she was, she couldn't let those who cared for her now worry unnecessarily.

Wiping her tears, she hugged Li Yunlan, who had sat beside her on the bed. "Mom, really—Zhou Huaian didn't do anything. He's been good to me. If I were mad at him, I'd have hit him already, not just sat here crying."

Li Yunlan looked doubtful. "Really?"

"Yes," Lin Xiaoxiao insisted. "Don't blame him. He even made me sugar water earlier." She hadn't missed how nervous and lost he'd seemed—the usually steady man turned into a worried boy, scared for her.

Finally convinced, Li Yunlan softened. "It's alright, then. Dreams are the opposite of reality, you know. If something bad happens in a dream, it means good luck in real life. If someone dies in a dream, that person will live a long life."

Lin Xiaoxiao's eyes welled up again. She quickly wiped them. "Mom, I'm kind of hungry. Could you toast some mantou on the stove for me?"

"Of course! What do you want on it?"

"Just some fermented tofu paste is fine."

Outside the room, Zhou Zhennan had been listening. Hearing Lin Xiaoxiao's request, he moved the kettle from the stove, washed his hands, sliced the steamed buns, and began carefully toasting them.

When Zhou Huaian stepped out, Zhou Zhennan asked quietly, "You really didn't upset her?"

"No," Zhou Huaian replied, his voice low and heavy.

Zhou Zhennan sighed. All couples argued—it was normal. "You're the man. Don't take things to heart. It's not a victory to win an argument with your wife."

Zhou Huaian said nothing. He put on his coat and left to buy pastries for Lin Xiaoxiao.By evening, Lin Xiaoxiao had calmed down, pushing her grief aside to chat with Zhou Xiaoling and Li Yunlan. No matter how Zhou Xiaoling probed, she wouldn't reveal what she had dreamed.

Zhou Xiaoling didn't press—after all, she had her own secrets.

Trying to cheer her up, Zhou Xiaoling shared a piece of gossip: "Remember how I told you Lin Zihao was transferring to our department?"

Lin Xiaoxiao blinked. That was a while ago—she thought plans had changed. "Is he still coming?"

"Oh, he's here!" Zhou Xiaoling said excitedly. "He started this afternoon. And wow, he's something else. Criticizing how slow we are, how messy the office is... Nothing meets his standards."

"So you see him every day now?" Lin Xiaoxiao asked, her voice still raspy but curious.

Zhou Xiaoling beamed. "Yes! We're in the same office. He sits right across from me."

Lin Xiaoxiao could just imagine Zhou Xiaoling turning into a timid little quail around him. Even through her own pain, she couldn't resist teasing: "Aren't you nervous working so close to him? Is your heart racing every day?"



Zhou Xiaoling feigned offense. "We have a strictly professional relationship!"

After listening quietly, Li Yunlan cut in, finally catching on. "Xiaoling... do you have feelings for Lin Zihao?"