My friend’s cousin’s elder brother—last year he jumped onto the live-streaming sales trend and made more than 8 million in just half a year.

Then he turned around and wanted to divorce his wife. He transferred the house and the car all at once, even “communicating” in advance with the court judge.
The night before the hearing, he took his mistress to a bar to celebrate, drank a bottle of imported liquor worth 20,000, and then went on to down half a crate of beer.
At midnight he got home, collapsed into bed and fell asleep—never to wake up again.
Sudden cardiac death.
His parents were gone long ago, and the only legal heir was—his wife he hadn’t divorced yet.
At the funeral, the mistress didn’t dare show up.
His wife didn’t cry at all; the very next day she went to handle the inheritance notarization.
Now that more than 8 million—every cent of it—was all in her account.
The judge that his cousin’s elder brother had found while he was alive reportedly later proactively refunded the “consultation fee.”
Someone asked his wife: “Do you hate him?”
She said: “No. It’s just a little regrettable—
‘He couldn’t live long enough to see the court’s judgment.’”
Look—so the heavens are the true judge.
No money—only life.