"I am Brother Dao, what kind of brother are you?"
Yan Sheng took a deep breath and proactively extended his hand. "Brother Jiang, just call me Yan Sheng."
Jiang Nayi looked at the hands in front of him, sneered, and seemed to want to shake them.
Just as they were about to touch, he suddenly pointed a finger sharply at Yan Sheng's damned forehead.
Yan Sheng's whole body tensed up, he shuddered sharply, his pupils dilated instinctively, and as his upper body leaned back, his lower body retreated a step.
Pa!
But Jiang Nayi had already grabbed his hand and shook it twice, very friendly.
The earlier finger, as if it never happened.
Yan Sheng felt like his hand was caught by a crab, his whole body unable to relax, his expression somewhat stiff:
"Brother Jiang, what is the meaning of this?"
"Brother Yan Sheng, what are you saying? We've been through life and death, aren't we sworn brothers now? It's just a handshake, why so tense?"
"Fair point, fair point."
