"There are also doctors who say I have a mental illness and suggest that I go see a psychiatrist."

"Did you write with a pen?" Jiang Feng asked curiously.

He also knew that most of the writers now use keyboards, and now they rarely meet writers who write directly with pens, especially young people.

"I have always liked writing. I started writing when I was fifteen or sixteen years old. At that time, computers were not popular yet. I have developed a habit for so many years. I always like to write with a pen and now I use a keyboard." said the female writer.

"Come on, I'll take a pulse."

Fang Han said, and glanced at Jiang Feng next to him: "Get out of the way!"

"oh!"

Jiang Feng hurriedly got up and said to the female writer very attentively: "Sit, sit down!"

"Thanks."

The female writer thanked her, sat down on Jiang Feng's chair, then placed her arm on the dining table, and Fang Han put his finger on and listened to the pulse.

Jiang Feng was so envious. Why was he so fucked? Otherwise, wouldn’t he be able to touch the wrists of a female writer?

Fang Han treated his right hand and then changed his left hand. After hearing this, he stopped.

"Doctor Fang, can my girl be cured?" the boss stood beside him and asked.

"Yes, that's OK."
Chapter completed!