But what use is it to ask? Du Fan forcibly dragged Xiao Hang away.
In the elevator, Xiao Hang leaned against the wall, closing his eyes in pain: "Why..."
"Because she doesn't love you."
"But...I love her..."
"You just met the wrong person at the wrong time. Don't be sad, one day you'll meet the right person at the right time." Du Fan, in a rare poetic moment, said.
Xiao Hang opened his eyes and looked at Du Fan.
Bronze skin, a conspicuous scar on his face. Such a "manly" man speaking in sentimental words.
He felt that if he continued to be sad, he would be letting down his friend's poetic endeavor.
"When did you find out?" Xiao Hang asked.
Du Fan shrugged: "The first time I saw Zhang Yun."
"How did you know her?"
"I specially investigated for you," Du Fan patted Xiao Hang on the shoulder, "I've worried myself sick over you, don't you think you owe me a drink?"
Xiao Hang waved his hand away: "I'm heartbroken, you should buy me a drink."
