I check on family businesses in the countryside with my girlfriend, Mildred McClure, in tow. At noon, we stop by my uncle, Barron Cortez's, place for a simple lunch.

Just as we are getting ready to leave, his new wife, whom he married just six months ago, Hilda Ross, rushes out and demands that we settle the bill.

"Elden, you two just had the Supreme Farmhouse Set Meal, which is 1,888.80 dollars, and your girlfriend picked three organic, pesticide-free tomatoes in the garden. That's 199.80 dollars.

"With an 80% service charge, your total comes to 3,800 dollars."

Mildred is stunned. "Elden, do we have to pay to eat at your uncle's place?"

I start to feel embarrassed, and my expression darkens as I look at Hilda, my supposed aunt, who's barely any older than me.

"I've grown up eating at my uncle's place and never paid a single penny. Besides, your prices are downright outrageous!"

Hilda calmly whips out a price menu and righteously declares, "That's all ancient history. Now, we're running a farmhouse business where all prices are clearly marked, so everyone pays the same rate.

"Barron said you're some big boss in the city. Surely you're not going to stiff us over a little bill, are you?"

She steps in front of the gate to block the exit with her body and shoots me a contemptuous look.

"Even family settles their accounts. If you don't pay up today, don't even dream about stepping through this door!"

While Mildred panics, I laugh in disbelief before taking out my phone and dialing Barron's number.

"Uncle Barron, Hilda wants to settle accounts between family, so don't you think it's time we settled our accounts too?"

Uncle Barron's hesitant, stammering voice came from the other end of the line.

"Elden… J-Just cut us some slack, okay? Your aunt is young and doesn't know better… So you can just pay, and I-I'll get it back for you."

His voice sounded weak and lacked conviction.

Before I, Elden Huff, could answer, his much-younger wife, Hilda Ross, who'd been listening in nearby, snatched the phone away and started cursing at him over the line.

"Cut us slack? Get back what? You're trash, Barron! Do you have a death wish?"

"Stop the act, both of you. I run the house now, and today, not a single penny is getting knocked off."

With that, she hung up with a sharp snap.

Holding my phone, I stared at her, a woman barely my age, and found it all utterly absurd.

My girlfriend, Mildred McClure, tugged on my sleeve and whispered, "Elden… Maybe we should just call the police?"

Hilda heard her and let out a short, mocking laugh. Then, she suddenly pulled out her phone from her pocket, set up a tripod with practiced ease, and adjusted the angle.

The screen lit up, and a livestream interface popped up. She began streaming live and even chose a particularly glaring title.

"You Won't Believe This! CEO Allegedly Refuses to Pay Tab in Impoverished Hometown Village!"

Her whole demeanor shifted the second she turned to face the camera. Gone was the arrogant, foul-mouthed bully, and in her place was a wounded, trembling victim.

"Guys, tell me if I'm wrong! I kindly entertained my family from the city by bringing out the best we have. And after eating to their full, they're trying to skip out on the bill!"

She abruptly swung the camera toward Mildred and me.

Immediately, dense streams of comments flooded the screen.

"No way. This guy looks decently dressed, so why is he doing such a thing?"

"The woman next to him isn't any good either. She looks guilty as hell."

"Don't cry, Hilda. We're here for you! Show their faces and let the world roast them!"

Mildred had never dealt with anything like this. Her face burned red with rage, and she was ready to rush forward and argue with Hilda, but I held her back.

I knew that saying anything now would be useless. Any explanation we gave would just get twisted into an excuse.

Sure enough, Hilda's dramatic performance escalated when we remained silent. She pointed at Mildred and tearfully complained to the thousands of livestream viewers.

"It was her! Look, everyone; she's sticky-fingered!

"While I wasn't paying attention, she sneaked into my garden and stole my gene-modified tomatoes!

"I worked so hard to import those seeds from abroad. The tomatoes were meant for our top donor when they ripened, but now she's ruined everything!"

She grew increasingly agitated as she spoke. In the end, she marched right up to Mildred and shoved the camera in her face.

"Now, apologize to my viewers in the livestream for stealing!"

Mildred's eyes were red-rimmed as she shook with anger. "I didn't steal! You said we could pick some ourselves!"

"Oh! The liar's doubling down!" Hilda shrieked as her voice rose sharply. "Did I say you could pick them? When have I ever said that?

"I've seen plenty of women like you, who love taking advantage of other people!"

Just then, hurried footsteps pounded up the yard before Barron burst in.

His face paled at the sight of the tense confrontation. Clearly, he hadn't expected things to escalate to this point.

Mildred rushed toward him as if she'd spot her savior. "Barron, please testify! Hilda said it was fine to pick the tomatoes, didn't she?"

Barron opened his mouth, but his eyes darted away to avoid her gaze. It was obvious he was terrified of Hilda, his wife, who was younger than him by 20 years.

Meekly inching over, he tugged on her sleeve. "Let's not do this, Hilda… We're all family…"

She whipped around like a cat with its tail stepped on. After violently shaking off his hand, she shrieked, "Family? No one's family here! Since when does family get to eat for free and steal from me?"

She jabbed a finger at Barron's nose and continued lashing out, "I'm telling you—say one more word for them, and you're sleeping in the pigsty tonight!"

Barron shuddered from her yelling. All the fight drained out of him.

He shrank his neck, not daring to speak another word on our behalf. Then, he turned to me and looked deeply troubled.

"I'm begging you, Elden… Just give in and pay.

"If she loses face in the livestream, s-she's going to ruin our family's reputation!"

Barron's words left me stunned for a full beat.

The family's reputation?

Dad dragged him out of a casino years ago, paid off his millions in gambling debts, gave him a home and a plot of land so he could start over. Back then, "family reputation" wasn't anywhere on his mind.

Now, he was wrapped around a woman's finger and helping an outsider pick on his nephew, yet he was suddenly talking about saving the family's reputation.

Looking at his face, worn thin by booze and debauchery, I felt nothing but deep disappointment.

Meanwhile, Hilda was glowing smugly at seeing Barron completely under her control. She turned back to face the livestream like she'd just won a war.

"See that, guys? There has to be no mercy when you handle freeloaders!"

With that, she turned and entered the house, only to come back holding an EDC machine. "Card or transfer?"

She gave me a slow once-over before her eyes landed on the Patek Philippe watch on my left wrist. "If you're that broke, you can pawn that knockoff watch on your wrist here. That would work too."

The livestream comments erupted in a frenzy.

"Fake watch! LMAO! I knew he was just putting on an act!"

"Hilda's awesome for calling him out on the spot!

"Someone dig up who he is. Expose him!"

The nasty comments were unbearable. Some viewers were even threatening to dox our personal information.

Mildred trembled with anger so hard that her lips quivered. She took out her phone to record Hilda's behavior as evidence, but I caught her hand and shook my head. It was a signal not to act rashly.

To add more content to her livestream, Hilda started filming her so-called luxury imported vegetables around the yard.

"Look at this chive patch and how green it is! I had someone air-freight it from the grasslands of Ardoria for 100 dollars a pound!

"See this chicken. It was raised listening to Mozart’s's classical music every day. Every bite is pure sophistication!"

Her dramatic performance soon drew a crowd. Neighbors and wandering tourists clustered at the fence to watch the ongoing show. Not knowing the full story, they listened to her words before pointing and whispering about us.

"These city folks are utterly unbelievable for eating all the good food and trying to skip the bill."

"Exactly. They dress nice but act rotten."

That was when Hilda shifted her tone and, facing the camera, dropped a bigger bomb.

"Here's the truth, everyone. People like them aren't just trying to eat for free!

"I heard his dad's crappy company is planning to seize our village's land for development. They're going to drive out all of us hardworking farmers and leave us homeless!"

Her words immediately escalated a personal conflict into a group confrontation. She was casting herself as a brave local defender protecting the villagers' interests, while I was the heartless capitalist trying to bulldoze the entire village.

Public sentiment completely erupted.

Not just in her livestream, but even in local village WhatsApp group chats, videos and claims about "the rich kid returning to crush the villagers and attempting to seize land" were frantically shared.

Tensions instantly soared.

Barron was scared out of his wits by the sudden escalation, knowing how damaging that accusation was. Once it stuck, he'd be done here and forever branded a traitor to the village.

He paled and could no longer care about his ego.

With a thud, he dropped to his knees before me and clutched my leg. With tears and snot streaming down his face, he loudly cried out, "Please, Elden! I'm begging you! I'm even kneeling for you!

"Just pay so she'd stop streaming live! If she keeps it up, I won't even be able to stay in this village!"

Hilda saw Barron kneeling at my feet and didn't flinch. If anything, she saw it as solid proof of her excellent skills in "taming her man".

She even turned the camera on him and proudly boasted to the livestream viewers. "See that, guys? This is how you handle men!"

Another wave of flattery, like "Queen Hilda!" and "Teach us your ways!" flooded the livestream.

Satisfied, she swung the camera back to me. "Well, have you made up your mind?"

The corners of her lips curved in a mocking smile as she continued, "But now, it's not just 3,800 dollars anymore. You cost me business, ruined my mood, and made Barron kneel to you.

"You don't know how humiliated I feel. Everything should be considered in damages for emotional distress!"

She lifted a nicotine-stained finger, yellowed from years of smoking, and waved it in front of me. "Let's round it up to ten thousand dollars. Pay up, and today's matter ends here."

Ten thousand dollars?

I laughed in disbelief.

Mildred had had enough. Hiding behind my shoulder, she took out her phone and secretly tried to call the police. But when she unlocked her phone, she noticed there wasn't a single signal bar.

"Don't bother," Hilda said after noticing her actions. The mocking grin on her face widened.

"This place has had a signal jammer installed ages ago to prevent guests from skipping the bill after their meal and phoning backup to cause trouble.

"I turned it on when I noticed you trying to weasel out earlier." Her tone sounded matter-of-fact.

Looking at her smug, triumphant expression, I slowly said, "Fine. I'll pay the ten thousand dollars."

A victorious smile couldn't help but spread on Hilda's face when she heard me relent. "Smart choice."

I stared into her eyes and continued enunciating every word, "I can give you the money, but you're giving me a written receipt."

"A receipt?"

That caught her off guard before she blinked and burst out laughing. "Hah! Are you scared that I'd come asking for more money again?"

As she laughed heartily, her fans in the livestream joined in the mockery.

A sly glint flickered in her eyes before she continued, "Sure. I'll write it for you, but it won't be a receipt. I'll write a 'voluntary donation' agreement so you won't wave the paperwork around and ruin my farmhouse's reputation."

She darted into the house and came back with a pen and paper.

With nearly ten thousand viewers watching in the livestream, she hastily scribbled a so-called agreement.

"This serves as an agreement that Elden Huff willingly donates ten thousand dollars to Ms. Hilda Ross as payment for his Hilda's Farmhouse experience. With this payment settled, there are no further disputes or entanglements between the two parties."

When she was done, she slapped it on the table along with an ink pad.

"Sign. Thumbprint."

Without hesitation, I picked up the pen and signed my name at the end of the agreement. Then, I pressed my thumb hard into the ink pad and firmly stamped my fingerprint.

Satisfied, Hilda snatched up the agreement and blew on the ink, not even bothering to hide the greed and triumph on her face.

After holding it up to the camera, she instructed me, "Just signing isn't enough. Hold this up and verbally tell my viewers that you voluntarily gave me the ten thousand dollars.

"Also, sincerely apologize to me and all my fans for your dine-and-dash behavior today."

When I took that humiliating agreement, the livestream comments went rabid with excitement. Viewers filled the comment section with insulting, mocking remarks.

Everyone thought I would bow and apologize, until I said in a slow, calm voice, "I'll give you the money, but on one condition."