After the Fake Young Master Betrayed the Australian Farmer - Chapter 14

“You were actually quite handsome today, puppy.”

Han Yan let Adams bite a few more marks into his back, but the man started getting carried away, showing no intention of stopping. Left with no choice, Han Yan reached back and tugged on Adams’ hair, rescuing his skin from the other’s mouth.

“That is enough. John and the others are waiting for us downstairs. Give it a rest.”

He turned around and squinted, his gaze toward Adams carrying a silent warning.

“What does ‘give it a rest’ mean?”

“It means stop what you are doing. Understand?”

Adams let out an “oh,” his eyelids drooping. However, his hands remained locked firmly around Han Yan’s waist, refusing to let go.

Tsk. Such a clingy thing.

Han Yan leaned in and patted his cheeks twice, chuckling. “Be a good boy, puppy.”

A flicker of confusion crossed Adams’ eyes as he asked, “Why do you call me puppy?”

Oh, Han Yan had almost forgotten that this guy had only recently gained consistent internet access. He likely did not understand the specific playful connotations the word “puppy” carried in certain moments. Looking at Adams’ innocent face, Han Yan’s eyes softened. He gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Because you are as cute as a puppy.”

When they finally headed downstairs, the first thing the group saw was Han Yan walking ahead with a light, cheerful step and a face full of delight. Following behind him was Adams, his head bowed, unable to hide the deep red flush on the tips of his ears. The others exchanged glances, their eyes filled with knowing smiles.

Four men were heading out for the hunt. Georgia was actually a skilled hunter herself, but since it was rare to see Zhou Fangrong, she planned to stay behind to keep her company. Moreover, although the camp was a bit of a distance from the dense woods, there had been instances of antelope wandering into the campsite before. For safety’s sake, it was better to leave someone behind who knew how to handle a gun.

“Now that everyone is here, let us get to the main event.” John finished his last sip of coffee and slowly stood up.

There was an inconspicuous door next to the cabin’s cupboard. Han Yan had previously assumed it was just a utility closet, but behind it lay a staircase leading to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs was a plain-looking wooden door, only wide enough for one person to pass through.

With a creak, the door swung open to reveal a hidden sanctuary. Rows of walnut racks neatly displayed firearms of various lengths, while many others leaned casually against the walls. In the corner to the right, several waist-high wooden barrels were filled with brass bullets. The faint scent of sulfur lingered in the air.

Holy crap. This is a man’s paradise! Han Yan’s eyes lit up, and he felt a surge of excitement.

“Adams, pick out a few of your reliable old friends. Hopefully, we will run into a big one today. Oh, and do not forget to pick a suitable one for Yan.”

John and George had clear targets. They expertly picked up a few shotguns, testing their weight and inspecting them thoroughly.

Considering it was Han Yan’s first time, Adams chose a few light shotguns with low recoil. They were easy to carry and suitable for small game like pheasants or wild rabbits.

“Since it is your first time hunting, these will be better. Later, if you want to try something with more kick, you can use mine.”

Han Yan took the shotgun Adams handed him. The metal felt cold to the touch. He slid his hand down the barrel to the stock, feeling the grain of the wood beneath his fingertips. He inspected the gun for a while before looking up to see Adams watching him quietly, waiting for his reaction. Han Yan smiled. “Thanks. I really like it.”

Adams breathed a sigh of relief. “I am glad you like it.”

Once the guns were selected, they loaded the weapons and ammunition into the vehicles. The hunting transport consisted of two small pickups: one for John and George, and another for Adams and Han Yan. Georgia and Zhou Fangrong handed them two bags of dry rations through the windows.

“See you tomorrow. Good luck.”

The pickups roared to life. In the rearview mirror, the campsite grew smaller, and the two figures waving in the center became tiny black dots before being swallowed by the thick forest.

Han Yan sat in the passenger seat, resting his chin on his palm. He squinted his eyes, enjoying the wind blowing through the window. His bangs lifted, and a beam of sunlight struck the vibrant red mole above his eyebrow, making him look breathtaking.

“Adams, did you hunt often before?”

Adams kept one hand on the steering wheel, glancing at Han Yan. “Yes. Whenever Grandpa went hunting, he would take me along. Back then I was too small to even lift a gun. Grandma actually got into an argument with Grandpa about it once.”

An image of a tiny version of Adams struggling to lift a shotgun with a pained, pouting expression popped into Han Yan’s mind. He smiled and turned to look at Adams’ sharp profile, tapping his finger against his cheek.

“So when was the first time you touched a gun?”

“Twelve.”

In Australia, as long as you are twelve years old and pass a series of training and assessments, you can apply for a minor’s firearm permit. Han Yan thought back to what he was doing at twelve. He had not even come to Australia yet; he was back home attending endless extracurricular classes. People really do live different lives. Counting it up, Adams had been handling guns for six years—he was a veteran.

Thinking of Adams holding a shotgun, a flash of playfulness crossed Han Yan’s eyes. He was now very much looking forward to today’s hunt.

The pickup ahead slowed down and stopped in front of a thicket. Adams parked the car, explaining as he unbuckled his seatbelt, “Grandpa probably found some tracks. They are going to stake it out.”

Han Yan followed him out of the car. John and George were already loading their ammunition. George gestured for them to come over.

“You two get ready quickly. John found wild boar tracks. Last year we stayed for three days and did not see a single one. To find one as soon as we arrive is lucky.”

The shotgun Adams picked for Han Yan was not suitable for hunting wild boar. Combined with Han Yan’s lack of experience, the task of taking down a boar had to fall to Adams. Han Yan watched as Adams loaded a shotgun twice the size of his own, and he felt a bit envious.

Adams looked up and caught the restless spark in Han Yan’s eyes. He paused. “Do you want to try?”

“Yes!”

Is that even a question? Earlier, he had quite liked the gun Adams picked for him, but compared to this beast, his felt like a child’s toy.

Adams thought for a moment, then went back to the car to grab two pairs of earmuffs. He put them on Han Yan first before putting on his own. He then had Han Yan stand in front of him and handed over the gun. Professional shooting earmuffs reduce loud noises while amplifying low-decibel sounds, allowing them to communicate normally.

Han Yan supported the barrel with his left hand and kept his right hand on the trigger, resting the stock against his shoulder. His posture was quite standard. However, the moment he took the weight of the gun, his wrist dipped, and the muzzle wobbled. Suddenly, a solid chest pressed against his back.

A large hand supported his trembling arm, bringing the sliding barrel back to a horizontal position. A calloused palm covered the back of his hand, and a rough finger rested over his own on the trigger. His unsupported shoulders now had a place to rest, and he slowly relaxed his posture.

“This gun has a lot of recoil. I will brace you so you do not get hurt.”

The low voice was amplified clearly in his ears, drifting into his heart like a feather, making it skip a beat. After waiting for nearly ten minutes, Han Yan’s arms began to ache. Just as he was thinking about standing aside to watch, a branch snapped deep in the silence of the thicket. Heavy hoofbeats followed, each one vibrating through the ground.

“Here it comes,” Adams whispered.

The thermal imaging in the scope revealed a silhouette. Adams applied pressure with his finger, guiding Han Yan to pull the trigger.

Bang!

The massive recoil sent the stock crashing back into Han Yan’s shoulder. Due to the momentum, he slammed hard into the man behind him. A dull pain radiated from his shoulder; Han Yan did not need to look to know it would be bruised red. The wild boar let out a pained shriek on the ground before going silent.

Adams hurriedly took the gun from his hands, looking at his shoulder with worry. “Are you okay?”

Han Yan rubbed his numbing shoulder and nodded. “I am fine. It is probably just red.”

The recoil was truly intense. If Adams had not been behind him to brace the impact, his fragile shoulder blade might have fractured. John stepped forward to inspect the boar. Seeing the fatal wound from a single shot, he looked relieved and gave his grandson a thumbs-up.

“Adams, your marksmanship is getting better and better!”

Han Yan agreed silently. When he was held in Adams’ arms, his heart had been in his throat the moment they fired, yet the other man’s heartbeat had not changed one bit. Han Yan suddenly became curious. He wondered what kind of expression this usually “innocent and silly” person wore while shooting.

That curiosity was quickly answered. Adams now held the gun with his back slightly arched. Even through his clothes, Han Yan could feel the rippling muscles beneath, like a mountain range. Adams’ emerald eyes were fixed on the scope, and his brow carried a rare cold sharpness. He pulled the trigger with a calm expression, not even blinking. The powerful recoil caused his shoulder to shift back for only a split second before he stabilized again. It was so fast it seemed like an illusion.

Tsk. He really is handsome.

The back of the pickup was now piled with today’s haul, including a few pheasants and rabbits caught by Han Yan, and even a large goose. Seeing that it was getting late, John directed everyone to set up the tents. They had a quick meal of dry rations before John urged Han Yan and Adams to head to the tent to rest and regain their energy.

The untamed forest was full of danger, so they had to take turns keeping watch. John and George took the first watch, while Adams and Han Yan would take the second. The space inside the tent was cramped, with their arms almost touching. In the enclosed environment, every breath from the other person was clearly audible.

Han Yan lay on the blanket, listening to Adams’ steady breathing. He mischievously tickled the other man’s palm with his fingertip. The breathing beside him suddenly grew heavy. Han Yan rolled over to face him, their noses nearly touching. His breath fanned across Adams’ face; the other man’s lowered eyelashes trembled, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Han Yan kissed the corner of Adams’ lips and smiled. “You were actually quite handsome today, puppy.”