Mo Rao had a dream. Her dream was filled with white fog.
There was a little girl and a little boy holding hands. The little girl had a cute bow tied around her head.
They were very cute and chubby. Their facial features were as exquisite as those of dolls.
When Mo Rao saw them, she felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity. She squatted down and stroked them. "Whose children are you? You're so cute!"
"Mommy, we're your children!" The little girl said in a childish voice.
The boy was more aloof. His expression was cold, but he also called her "Mommy".
Mo Rao was stunned. She quickly denied, "Little children, are you mistaken? I'm not your mother. My children are still in my stomach and haven't been born yet. It'll be months later. Are you lost?"
However, the little girl's eyes were filled with tears. She pouted and cried, "Mommy, we're leaving, but I can't bear to leave you!"
