The county magistrate asked me, a beggar, to help her daughter marry a dying heir apparent.
On the wedding night, the prince was lying motionless on the bed. I secretly rejoiced: "Dead? Will all the property belong to me?"
As soon as he finished speaking, he sat up like a corpse and stared at me sadly: "What a beautiful idea."
Later, I discovered that not only was he not sick, but he could kill a cow with his bare hands.
To make matters worse, the unpopular prince I fed as a child came to visit. He was now the powerful regent.
He said with red eyes: "Sister, you said you would take care of me for the rest of your life, why did you turn around and marry someone else?"
The prince behind me grabbed my waist and smiled provocatively at him: "Uncle, my wife has a bad temper, please bear with me."
