Seven was sitting by the bed holding a small bowl of millet porridge and feeding Fatty with a spoon. Fatty was leaning against a pillow and seemed to be downhearted.
"Gyatso went to see him?" Fatty swallowed some porridge.
"You know he did." Seven put the bowl on the bed table and poured himself some water.
The reason why Fatty ended up in such misery was that Seven had set them up. He now knew that because Seven confessed. But just like Gyatso, he didn’t mind. After all, it was quite common among audiences.
More profit would always go to the more skillful players. There was nothing wrong about that.
