Sam Shen’s face was reflected on the computer screen, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, looking casual, as if joking.
He put one hand on Lucas Lu’s head, patted his head slowly, laughter overflowed from his throat, and typed with one hand with the other hand, replying to Brother Gou’s message.
Lucas Lu was silent for a while, then twisted his neck: “This has been losing the team?”
He scratched the back of his head, somewhat puzzled: “It doesn’t seem to be auspicious.”
Sam Shen sighed and hit him: “What do you say about your future team?”
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