“Boss, are you looking forward to Anjie’s birth?”
Anne stood up and asked him with a hopeful look, her emerald eyes reflecting the glow of the sun.
‘I want to know the real answer from the boss.’
Lauren naturally wouldn’t disappoint her.
He answered bluntly and directly.
“That’s exactly why I came.”
“Then… what’s your answer, boss?”
Lauren followed up with another line.
“You need to know when to stop dreaming.”
“Ah…”
Hearing this, Anne held her breath and her pupils dilated.
The noise in her mind was suddenly swept away.
She felt like her ears were ringing.
The light in the sunflower garden began to dim.
Not the kind of dark that comes when dusk falls and the sun sinks below the horizon—it was a darkness that cast a shadow over her heart.
“What… does that mean?”
Anne grabbed Lauren’s arm and pressed him for an answer.
He looked at her, then at Anjie in his arms.
At the same time, the mother and daughter both looked at him with uneasy eyes, glistening with tears.
Some things had to be said, no matter what.
So, with firm resolve, he answered.
“People can’t just drown themselves in a fantasy world. You should look toward tomorrow.”
Lauren looked Anne straight in the eye.
“Drown myself… tomorrow…”
Anne murmured the words back.
“Why, why would you say something so hurtful!”
She demanded, tears welling up.
Anne almost dropped to her knees.
Luckily, Lauren caught her, preventing her from kneeling right there on the spot.
‘No, I haven’t finished yet!’
‘Don’t jump to conclusions!’
‘Oh no, now you’ve made her cry!’
‘It’s all because I talk too slowly and never get to the point.’
“What I mean is…”
Lauren quickly explained, reaching out his hand to Anne.
That hand had distinct knuckles, fair skin, and thin calluses—marks left from years of hard sword practice.
Not the perfect, well-kept hand from Anne’s dream version of Lauren, but the real, growing hand of Lauren, one that still had many storms to weather.
Lauren tried to comfort Anne.
“Anne, take my hand. Let’s go create a tomorrow that has Anjie in it!”
This wasn’t sweet talk or an empty promise.
It was the most sincere sentence a young man at the prime of his youth could say to the childhood friend who had been by his side since they were kids.
Come on, let’s walk toward tomorrow together!
Anne stared at that hand, her lips trembling slightly.
Of course, she knew this was a dream.
She also knew it was time to wake up.
This was exactly the answer she had been waiting for—a genuine promise.
Unlike the estrangement, disdain, and escape of her previous life, this was a beautiful future that could actually happen.
The thing she had longed for her entire life was right before her eyes.
But why was she still hesitating?
What was she afraid of?
Anne analyzed her own heart and conveyed it to Lauren, hoping he would give her the determination.
“What if we can’t make it? What if there’s no sunflower tomorrow? What if Anjie is forever just a name in a dream?”
Anne’s heartfelt voice echoed in Lauren’s ear.
‘Is this even in the dream?’
‘What the hell, there’s a mind-reading thing going on?’
‘Why did the dream suddenly get so depressing?’
But now wasn’t the time to complain.
Now that it had come to this, Lauren naturally wouldn’t let Anne down.
When she shrank back, he took the initiative to hold her hand, pulled her close to his chest, and replied with a firm, resolute voice.
“What ‘what ifs’? Happiness isn’t something you just stumble upon. It’s something you have to fight for with your own hands!”
Happiness was never about “what if we make it.”
It’s about “we will make it.”
“Anne, don’t be afraid to move forward. Just walk!”
“I’ll go ahead and lead you. The future will surely be bright and smooth!”
He assured her.
‘If it’s not smooth, you come find me. I’ll shield you from the wind and rain.’
“Dad, Mom, what are you talking about?”
Anjie’s voice broke the silence between them.
The little cat-girl poked her head out from Lauren’s arms, looking at her mother, then at her father, her little face full of confusion and unease.
“Don’t act like this. Anjie is scared!”
She reached out her tiny hands—one pressing on Anne’s hand, the other on Lauren’s—the three of them touching.
Seeing her like this made Anne’s heart clench.
She asked cautiously.
“If we wake up… what will happen to Anjie?”
Lauren was silent for a moment.
“I don’t know. This is just a dream.”
“But…”
Lauren changed his tone and guessed, based on what Li An had said to him before.
“She’s what you think and feel. She’s your subconscious.”
“So… she should be fine.”
Anjie couldn’t understand, but it seemed like they were saying goodbye.
For some reason, Anjie suddenly wanted to cry, but she held it in.
Even in the dream, she had inherited Lauren’s habit of not crying in front of others.
Anjie blinked hard, struggling not to let the tears fall, then lifted her head and forced a smile.
“Then… how about Anjie blesses Mom and Dad, okay?”
“Mom, Dad, please always remember me.”
Hearing Anjie’s gentle words, Anne’s tears finally broke free.
She pressed her face against her daughter’s golden hair, her shoulders trembling, sobbing too much to speak.
Anjie reached out her little hand and gently patted Anne’s back, like a little adult.
“Mom, don’t cry…”
“Anjie will be good from now on. Anjie will come back to Mom.”
Lauren reached out and ruffled Anjie’s hair.
‘My daughter… even though she’s a dream, she’s so adorable!’
A feeling he had never experienced before arose in his heart—he wished she were real.
Anjie looked up and suddenly smiled.
She actively nuzzled against Lauren’s chest.
That smile was innocent and bright, like the sunniest flower in the sunflower garden.
“Sleep.”
Lauren’s voice was very soft and gentle.
This scene was Anne’s moment.
He really didn’t know what else to say.
The last warm line of light at the edge of the sky, like a thin golden thread, sewed the sky and earth together.
The night was gentle, the galaxy hanging high above.
It was as if the dream itself had sensed something, using its gentlest way to set the stage for this farewell.
Anne took Anjie from Lauren’s arms.
She hugged her daughter tightly, her voice choked with tears yet tender, as she hummed an unknown lullaby.
The tune was old, like something she had heard long, long ago when she herself was a child.
“Night is the cradle of children…”
“…”
The voice drifted through the sunflower field.
“Every child will find happiness in a dream…”
As the song went on, Anjie’s breathing gradually steadied.
Her little chest rose and fell, and the smile still lingered on her lips.
“Mom… Dad…”
Anne murmured one last time in her dream.
“We’re going to create a tomorrow that has you…”