Ying Jing called Wen Fucheng.
Sitting in the cold drink shop, she held her milk tea, and her eyebrows and eyes were filled with joy.
When the call connected, she immediately returned to normal.
Zhang Yang glanced at the caller ID and dared not neglect it. After receiving Wen Fucheng's signal, he took the phone and walked out of the meeting room.
Meanwhile, Ying Zenan, who was looking at the plan, glanced at the man opposite him.
"President Wen, if you want to take the call, just do it. Don't mind me; you won't disturb me."
Wen Fucheng pointed out the areas on the plan that needed changes with his fingers and said nonchalantly, "Some things should still be minded."
Ying Zenan's hand holding the pen paused.
What the hell are you talking about? Could you possibly have some thoughts about me?
No one in the meeting room could handle the tense atmosphere.
"Hello, Miss Ying. Where are you now? I'll come to pick you up."
