The pressure was on Jethead now. He couldn't be sure whether either of Chen Cheng's two remaining cards was higher than a seven. If neither was, he would be fine. If one was, his next move would matter.
Jethead didn't play a card. He hesitated.
Outside, the spectators saw the cards left in Chen Cheng's hand and grew nervous.
Chen Cheng was bluffing Jethead, but the two at the table could neither see the spectators' expressions nor hear their shouts.
What do I do? Does he still have a high card? If he does, I win as long as I pass. If he doesn't, passing hands him the game.
Jethead wavered.
"Ten seconds left to decide," the referee warned.
"Eight... six, five, four, three, two..."
As time ran out, Jethead chose to trust his memory. Apart from that miserable little three, Chen Cheng had no low cards left.
"Pass."
Jethead called his pass, then watched Chen Cheng with cold sweat beading on his forehead and sneered.
"You tried to bluff me? I kept close track of the cards this first round. You have no low cards left. And now you've used up your chance to pass. You've lost."
Chen Cheng gave Jethead a cold look.
"Robots really don't have brains. Second from the left: a single nine. That leaves me with one card, the three of clubs."
Then Chen Cheng turned to the referee.
"He has sixteen cards left: one ten of diamonds, eight fours of hearts, one four of spades, and two each of the six, seven, and eight of clubs.
"So I've lost this round. You can shuffle again."
Chen Cheng looked back at Jethead.
"You thought that because I dealt you a hand full of fours, all my cards must be low? Dream on."
Jethead looked utterly