Listening to Zhan Qipei's words, Qiao Jing felt a bit helpless.
She knew that trying to explain things to someone who was drunk and fixated would be futile, so she could only dryly say, "This is not a dream."
Zhan Qipei shook his head stubbornly, "No, this must be a dream, because I've dreamt of such a scene many times, and if you could come back, you would have already."
"I know you're long gone, but you still exist in my dreams. Dreaming of you is my greatest luxury, and now I just wish this dream would never end..."
The man's words carried an indescribable melancholy.
Hearing these words, Qiao Jing suddenly found him somewhat pitiful.
She no longer argued with him about whether this was a dream or not and instead suggested, "I'll pour you a glass of water. You should drink some water first."
She said this in hopes that Zhan Qipei would sober up a bit after drinking water, making it easier for her to leave.
Zhan Qipei didn't object, but he still held onto her hand tightly.
