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“It felt like being in a movie directed by a bunch of clowns… cough, cough.” He coughed, realizing the chill might be more than just a dream residue. Last night, he had forgotten to close the window, and the brisk early winter breeze was unforgiving.

Securing the old sliding window, he muffled the lively market sounds from below. With the wind barred, the room grew slightly warmer. Lin Xian poured himself a cup of hot water, sipping slowly as he gazed at the glowing full moon.

“What on earth is inside that safe with my name on it?” he wondered aloud.

Since he could remember, Lin Xian had been haunted by the same dream, night after night. Regardless of his age, whereabouts, or daily events, he always found himself in a familiar, yet inexplicable square once he drifted into sleep.

It was peculiar because Lin Xian was certain he had never visited this square in reality. Yet, it felt intimately familiar; after more than twenty years, he knew every nook and cranny—each child playing, every tree lining the paths, even each blade of grass seemed like an old friend.

Initially, the recurring dream terrified Lin Xian. The same faces, the same cityscape, the same scenarios replaying endlessly. It felt like a prison from which he could not escape. Acquaintances would become strangers, and the deceased greeted him anew each day. No matter the upheavals he caused, the dream realm reset itself by the next cycle. He was trapped in a perpetual loop.

He had discovered early that this dream world always ended at exactly 00:42, at which time he would awaken. So, he devised a strategy: if he stayed awake until 00:42, the dream would elude him.

This method proved effective during his childhood, keeping the dreams at bay as he stayed up late. However, as he matured into his teenage years, his perception shifted. He began to embrace the dream’s constancy. In the real world, he was bound by rules and consequences, but his dream world offered a liberating chaos. He could engage in reckless driving, confrontational brawls—free from repercussions. This nightly escapade became his secret playground.

As he grew accustomed to the dream, it evolved from a nightmare into an enticing adventure. While his peers were engrossed in simple online games, Lin Xian was diving into intense scenarios like ‘Extreme Sports,’ ‘Sleeping Dogs,’ and ‘Stalker 3′ in his sleep.

With this newfound appreciation, Lin Xian no longer resisted sleep. He would rush through his homework just to return to his nocturnal adventures, much to his parents’ delight, who mistakenly thought he had become more disciplined.

Interestingly, Lin Xian realized that if he died in the dream, he would snap back to reality immediately. This phenomenon became a frequent occurrence through his middle school years, whether he was shot by police, targeted by snipers, or caught in high-stakes chases. These experiences inadvertently honed his real-life agility, helping him clinch the city youth parkour championship thrice during high school.

Now, at 23, though no longer indulging in virtual misdemeanors, Lin Xian still relished his nightly excursions in the dream world, playing out various roles and exploring ever-changing scenarios. Despite his familiarity, the dream landscape always had something new to offer.

The previous night’s dream had been a first, however—breaking into a vault filled with safes, one of which bore his name. He wasn’t shocked to see his name; after all, it was his dream. But why wouldn’t the usual password work?

Lin Xian pondered as he finished his water, feeling a bit warmer. He set the cup down, still puzzled. His passwords were typically straightforward—his birthday, 19990320, a sequence easy to remember and commonly used. Yet, the safe remained locked.

Ding-dong. A message notification lit up his phone. It was from his work’s group chat.

Design Team Leader Li Juan: @everyone, meeting at 9 AM tomorrow in the third-floor conference room. Mr. Zhao will personally review your proposals! No one be late! Reply to confirm!

Ding-dong! Ding-dong! A flurry of “Received!” messages followed.

“Do these people ever sleep?” Lin Xian muttered, noting the time—1 AM. Despite his grumbles, he typed, “Received!”

“Better catch some sleep. Big day tomorrow,” he thought, setting his alarm and placing his phone on the nightstand.

Bang!

The next morning, Li Juan slammed a folder onto the conference table. “I told you last night! Mr. Zhao wants to review your proposals today! Look at this mess!”

Silence enveloped the third-floor conference room as everyone lowered their heads in dread. Li Juan was livid. She picked up a design and slapped it back down.

“Our new brand is supposed to appeal to a youthful, feminine audience! Why is there a fox in black stockings wagging its tail?”

She turned her glare to the girl beside Lin Xian. “Do you even understand our brand direction? The bunny you designed is cute, but why the floral scarf and cotton coat? My grandmother dresses more stylishly!”

Li Juan continued, “Mr. Zhao has made it abundantly clear repeatedly—we want a brand image akin to Hello Kitty! Everyone knows Hello Kitty!”

Beside Lin Xian, a burly colleague muttered, “For this salary, they expect Hello Kitty…”

“What was that, fatty?” Li Juan snapped.

“N-nothing, Miss Li! I meant Hello Kitty is perfect, truly the best!” he stammered nervously.

As Li Juan ranted, Lin Xian’s thoughts drifted back to the safe in his dream. An eight-digit password… what could it be? What was inside? Perhaps something related to Hello Kitty? Or a cat?

Amidst the chaos, Lin Xian found himself doodling on his notepad—a simple, yet charming cartoon cat, reminiscent of the mask on Big Face Cat’s face. The irony of that mask’s simplistic yet lively sketch hadn’t escaped him.

“Hey?” His colleague leaned over. “What are you drawing, Lin Xian?”