The poor farmer wiped his brow, anticipation mixed with exhaustion evident in his eyes. He approached the well, eager to draw water for his parched crops. The rich man stood blocking the way, a smirk playing on his lips. "Remember, you've bought the well, but not the water,"

The farmer clenched his fists, a sense of helplessness washing over him. He realized he needed justice, but where could he turn? "This isn't fair,"

The farmer, determined to seek justice, approached the throne and explained his predicament. "Worry not. Birbal will handle this,"

Birbal nodded, understanding the cunning plan of the rich man. "If you sold the well but not the water, you must remove all water or pay rent to store it,"

The rich man realized his defeat, knowing well that Birbal’s logic was irrefutable. "The farmer can use the well,"

The tale spread through the village, a lesson in honesty and integrity resonating with all. Deceit, as the rich man learned, always comes with a cost.