A Billion Stars Can’t Amount to You

Han Zhihui went to the company early in the morning.

He turned on the computer and wanted to use his work to transfer his thoughts, but he stared at the dense black letters on the computer screen. After reading it for a long time, he didn't recognize a word.

At eight o'clock, the secretary reminded him to meet early.

Sitting in the conference room, he didn't know whether he hadn't slept all night, or what happened. A group of people in the company kept talking for an hour, but he didn't hear a word in his ear.

After the meeting, he returned to the office and Han Zhihui drank a cup of coffee. He was more comfortable. He opened the document and wanted to look at it. As a result, after seeing no two pages, he dropped the document on the table and then became irritable. Grabbed his hair, picked up the landline next to it, and called the house.

The housekeeper answered the phone.

He actually wanted to ask, is it okay for Cheng Weiwan? But when it came to his mouth, he couldn't ask, and finally said only: "Is the house okay?"

Han Zhihui once called the family and asked if it was good. The housekeeper froze for a long time at the end of the phone, and then replied: "It's good."

"Really good? Nothing?"

"It's really good, nothing."

"Oh." Han Zhi echoed, and after a while, the phone hung up.

Han Zhihui, who couldn't get into work at all, simply leaned on the office chair, letting himself think about it deliberately.

At noon, Han Zhihui went home and called again.

He said the same thing, but the butler returned the same answer.

But he was uncomfortable, he put down the microphone, hesitated for a while, then picked up the microphone.

This time, instead of calling his home, he called Lin Sheng.

Lin Sheng quickly answered the phone, Han Zhihui didn't wait for him to speak, he lost the sentence: "You come to my office."

Lin Sheng thought that Han Zhihui had something important and came very quickly.

Han Zhihui motioned him to sit down, but he didn't worry.

Lin Sheng couldn't help but asked Han Zhihui several times to tell him what was going on. Han Zhihui finally came out: "You help me travel abroad and take a doctor back home."

"No?" Lin Sheng asked instinctively after listening.

Han Zhihui shook his head and said he was gone.

"On this fart thing, you won't say on the phone, why would you call me to run in person?" Lin Sheng had a feeling that he was being played.

Han Zhihui didn't speak and lit a cigarette.

When Lin Sheng saw that he was smoking, he became addicted to cigarettes. He also ordered one, and after taking two sips, he asked: "Do you have a doctor's contact? Can I go directly to him?"

"Well." Han Zhihui absently responded.

"Is the doctor treating your son?" Lin Sheng asked.

Han Zhi returned to shake his head, a few seconds later: "Is a psychologist."

"Psychiatrist?" Lin Sheng was surprised and unabashed: "What psychological illness did your son have..."

Before Lin Sheng's words were finished, Han Zhihui turned his eyes fiercely.

Lin gave a subconscious sound.

After a while, Lin Sheng couldn't help but open his mouth and asked curiously: "It's not for your son to see a doctor, who is it for?"

Han Zhihui seemed to be too lazy to care about Lin Sheng and did not speak.

"It's definitely not your problem..." Han Zhihui didn't say, and Lin Sheng didn't mind. He guessed: "...It's definitely not an ordinary person who can make you ask a doctor from abroad. It's definitely a deep intersection with you..." The intersection is deep..."