The young man cast a complex look at Meng Po. That single, hurried glance held a suppressed grief that felt like a drop of dark ink falling into clear water, instantly spreading and filling the surrounding air. He let out a heavy snort and turned a deaf ear.
Faced with the young man's supremely arrogant attitude, Meng Po felt a slight awkwardness in her heart, yet her face remained cordial and unangered. "Since ancient times, countless persistent souls like you have passed by the Bridge of Helplessness. Day after day, month after month, year after year, they waste their time here, only to wake up in the end and realize it was all just a dream."
These righteous-sounding words sounded terribly familiar. How many times had he heard them now?
Chapter 105