He immediately came up in a familiar way, looking down at Yuran from a superior angle as she sat on the outer side. She was naturally eye-catching, and the man who approached had a flicker in his eye.
His voice lowered, a hint of frivolity in his tone, "Is this young lady a new addition? Why not consider our team? It's more promising than Team 13."
Such blatant poaching—if Fatty could tolerate it, he wouldn't be the head of Team 13.
"Zhou Cheng, don't go too far." Fatty's face turned cold, his tone unfriendly.
Zhou Cheng didn't care in the slightest about Fatty's expression, continuing to tempt Yuran, "In terms of development prospects and team cohesion, we're far stronger than Team 13. Miss, won't you think it over?"
"You know very well what you're after. Why pretend to be so high and mighty?" Fatty scoffed coldly. It had to be said, as a post-producer, Zhou Cheng had a face to rival celebrities.
