On our wedding anniversary night, I braved the snow to go to the riverside to accompany my drunken male best friend, muting all four of my husband's phone calls. Returning home in the early hours, my down jacket, high heels, and suitcase were neatly laid out in the snow downstairs; he had thrown away everything I owned, leaving not a single piece behind. The door lock was changed, the password updated, and WeChat blocked. I betted that he couldn't bear to let me go, but what awaited me was a divorce agreement and a settlement of two hundred thousand. Until I discovered that my ordinary husband was the country's youngest billionaire with ten billion, while I was being used by my so-called good friend, who took out online loans everywhere using my ID card.