My Husband Faked His Death, So I Buried Him Alive and Burned His Coffin

My husband died in a tragic accident while preparing a birthday gift for me. Devastated by the news, I buried most of my family's wealth with him as grave goods. Who could have guessed that the birthday gift he had given his life to prepare would become ironclad proof that my Su family had colluded with the enemy and betrayed our country? All my family's property was confiscated, my legs were broken, and I became a lowly slave at a mine. Ten years later, after a general amnesty, I crawled out of the mine alive and begged along the streets. Then I saw my husband, who should have been dead for ten years, dressed in finery with his wife and child in his arms. He crushed my broken begging bowl and bragged about how the grave goods I'd given him had made him what he was. In grief and outrage, I was beaten to death by him that winter. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband died from poisoning.