Jiang Ming returned to his rented apartment, tossed his wallet onto the bed, and collapsed into a chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Over eight hundred yuan, just gone like that.
He moved to the bed, rolled over, and buried his face in his pillow, his mind a jumbled mess.
Liu Wei had said they would win it back next time, but Jiang Ming knew clearly that he hadn't won a single time recently.
His phone buzzed. He picked it up and saw a message from Liu Wei.
Liu Wei: [Usual place tomorrow afternoon. We're one short. You in?]
Jiang Ming stared at the message, his fingers hovering over the screen, hesitating for a long time. He typed a few words, deleted them, typed a few more, and deleted them again.
Finally, he replied: [I have something to do tomorrow. Can't make it.]
Liu Wei: [Alright, some other time then.]
