Chapter 1The Freeloader's Folly

Heading home for the holidays, my uncle's family insisted on catching a ride in my car, yet refused to split the gas money.

Out of the goodness of my heart, I took them along, but my uncle said: "Talking about money hurts family feelings!" "Your car is too small, it's squishing my grandson, drive steadier!"

Along the way, they ate oranges and threw the peels everywhere, and even smoked in the car.

I gave a mild warning, but my aunt rolled her eyes: "Why are you so uptight at your age?" "Will smoking one cigarette choke you to death?"

"You're the younger generation, serving your elders is what you should do. Don't be disrespectful."

When we reached a deserted rest stop, taking advantage of them getting out to use the restroom.

I didn't coddle them. I slammed on the gas and drove right off.

Since you say there's no need to be polite among family, then I won't be polite either.

We're two hundred miles from the nearest town, and there's no cell service here. Have a nice, long walk.

* * *

I parked the car at the gate of the yard, turned off the engine, and let out a long sigh of relief.

The aroma of stewed meat drifted through the yard; that was my mom's signature dish.

"My son is back!"

Hearing the noise, my mom ran out without even taking off her apron, still holding a stalk of green onion.

My dad followed behind her, holding a freshly steamed bowl of pork, his face beaming with a smile.

"Dad, Mom, I'm back," I called out with a smile as I got out of the car.

My dad put down the meat and circled my car twice, his eyes full of wonder: "Is this the car your boss let you drive back? It looks really grand, much better than our town mayor's Passat."

"Dad, just look at it from a distance, don't touch it randomly, it's expensive." I shoved the car keys into my pocket.

This wasn't an ordinary car. To reward me for my performance this year, my boss specially lent me his limited-edition Maybach to drive home and show off. It cost over a million dollars; I couldn't afford to pay for even a chipped piece of paint.

"I know, I know, I'm just looking." My dad chuckled. Although he didn't know much about cars, he could sense that this car had a different aura.

Our family had just sat down and prepared to eat when my mom suddenly looked toward the door: "Hey, where are your uncle and his family? Didn't they say they were taking your car and coming back together?"

I picked up a piece of meat and put it in my mouth without even looking up: "Oh, they're having fun on the road. Said they wanted to take a slow walk."

"A slow walk?" My dad paused. "It's freezing cold, and they aren't even home yet. What are they playing at?"

I remained noncommittal and didn't reply.

Playing at what?

Playing wilderness survival, I guess.

Who told them to throw orange peels all over my car and try to smoke inside?

I was nice enough to give them a ride, and they actually treated me like a chauffeur?

It was late at night, and the occasional dog bark could be heard in the village.

Just as our family was getting ready for bed, the front gate was suddenly banged on thunderously.

Bang bang bang!

"Richard Davis! You bastard, open the door!"

"Open the door! I know you're in there!"

That voice—I knew immediately it was my uncle.

Startled, my dad threw on a coat and hurried to open the door.

As soon as the door opened, a foul stench hit us.

I saw my uncle's family of five covered in slop and grass clippings.

My uncle's hair was a mess, his face smeared with black soot. My aunt's down jacket was stained with unknown yellow spots. My cousin and his wife were huddled together, and their precious grandson's face was a mess of snot and tears.

"Brother, what happened to you all?" my dad asked in shock.

My uncle completely ignored my dad, shoved him aside, and stormed into the house angrily.

I also threw on a coat and walked out, looking coldly at this family.

It turned out they waited at that cell-service-dead rest stop for three hours before flagging down a large truck transporting live pigs.

The driver kindly gave them a ride, but the smell was indeed overpowering.

Seeing the uncleared leftovers on the table, my uncle didn't say a word, rushed up, and violently flipped the table over.

Crash!

Plates and bowls shattered all over the floor, greasy soup splashing everywhere.

"Eat! Eat my ass!" My uncle pointed at my dad's nose and cursed, "You black-hearted bastards, actually leaving us halfway on the road, you're trying to murder us!"

My aunt plopped down on the floor, slapping her thighs and wailing: "Where is the justice! A nephew trying to kill his own uncle! How did our Davis family produce such an animal!"

That scream startled the neighbor's dog into barking.

The pipe in my dad's hand shook, and he instinctively shrank back: "Wh-what is going on here? Leo, didn't you say they were having fun on the road?"

I sneered and took a step forward: "Having fun? Uncle, eating oranges and throwing peels all over my car, wanting to smoke, and when I say one word, you talk back ten. Since you said family doesn't need to be polite, is there anything wrong with me letting you out of the car to get some fresh air?"

"Is that fresh air?" My cousin charged forward, wanting to grab my collar, but was stopped by my glare. "That was the middle of nowhere! It was freezing! If we hadn't run into that pig truck, our whole family would have frozen to death there!"

"Exactly!" That five-year-old brat suddenly rushed over, spat a thick wad of phlegm on my dad's winter pants, and cursed: "Old geezer! Bad guy!"

My dad froze, looking down at the phlegm, his face flushing red.

My anger instantly flared up: "Control your grandson!"

My uncle shielded his grandson, stiffened his neck, and roared at me: "What does a kid know? Is he wrong? You guys are just bad! Leo Davis, I'm telling you, this isn't over today! Either you pay us five thousand dollars for emotional distress and medical bills, or you won't have a peaceful New Year!"

Five thousand?

Hearing this number, I couldn't hold back, a cold smile curling at the corner of my mouth.

Hitching a free ride and extorting five thousand dollars—what a shrewd piece of business.