My husband faked his death, eloped with his pregnant wife, and left me the huge debt of my uncle's house. I took advantage of the situation, burned "myself" on fire, and fled to the south of the Yangtze River with all the dowry. Ten years later, the sickly son-in-law I picked up was suddenly surrounded by officers and soldiers. He knelt down and confessed, I was the deposed prince who was framed. The injustice was redressed, he became the distinguished prince, and I became the princess. We met again in the capital, and my "dead husband" was begging on the streets. He looked at the man next to me with eyes wide open. "You're not dead either?!" I smiled and leaned on my new husband's shoulder. "Thank you for not marrying back then, so I found this treasure."
