My ex-husband and my mistress laughed in front of the Civil Affairs Bureau that I could only pick up garbage after leaving him.
So, I married a man and asked him to order ten Rolls-Royces to pick them up for me.
I thought it was an agreement marriage where everyone gets what he wants.
I treated him for insomnia, and he slapped me in the face.
Until my ex-husband knelt down and begged me to identify the fake paintings handed down from his ancestors.
I chuckled: "This painting is just a useless draft I made when I was seven years old."
Later, my hidden family identity shocked the world.
That husband, the richest man with all the power in the world, held me in his arms, his eyes turned red:
"Madam, how many little vests do you still have?"
"Not much," I looked up at him, "just enough to play with you for a lifetime."
