After the Fake Young Master Betrayed the Australian Farmer - Chapter 16

“This little sheep is just like its father; both are such clingy things.”

“Wait.”

Han Yan pushed Adams away and tilted his head. He stretched out his arm to fish a small, square object out of the pocket of his trousers scattered on the floor. Adams looked at the small square between Han Yan’s fingers with an expression of bewilderment.

“When did you buy that?”

“Just now, when I stopped at the gas station convenience store to buy water. I saw them and picked them up while I was at it.”

Under Adams’ watchful gaze, Han Yan held the small square in his mouth and tore open the packaging with his teeth. He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “A new flavor. Let us try it.”

“That was the last one.”

Adams panted heavily and straightened up. He clamped one hand around Han Yan’s waist, which was covered in marks, and used the other to brush his hair back. The emerald ocean in his eyes, usually clear to the bottom, had become deep and dark.

Sweat slid down his honey-colored chest onto Han Yan’s porcelain skin. Adams wiped it away with his thumb before kneading the skin firmly a couple of times. Under the light, the slightly red, sleek skin gave off an inviting luster.

“The last one?” Han Yan’s voice was hoarse as he turned to look at him, the corners of his upturned eyes a deep scarlet. “I guess we have to call it a day then, sweetie.”

“Call it a day?”

Adams stared at the provocative smile on Han Yan’s face. He grabbed Han Yan’s arm, suddenly yanking him up and pulling him into his embrace. He tilted Han Yan’s face and blocked his lips.

“I will make it last a little longer, babe.”

On the first day back at work, Han Yan grandly played hooky.

Adams had been too rough during the final round last night; he had almost passed out. When it finally ended, Han Yan was so exhausted he collapsed onto the sofa, unable to move even a finger. Naturally, Adams diligently carried him to the bathroom to wash him up and then made him a bowl of light noodles for a late-night snack.

Adams had fed him that bowl of noodles one bite at a time; he did not even have to lift a hand. Han Yan was extremely satisfied with the service. After finishing the snack, he rewarded Adams with a kiss in a great mood, rolled onto the soft, large bed, and fell into a deep sleep hugging his warm human pillow.

This sleep was truly heavy. By the time he woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. He felt the sheets beside him; they had long since lost their warmth.

Waking up and not even calling me. He is determined to make me late and get my pay docked, isn’t he?

He pulled out his phone and rapidly tapped out a message to his pinned contact.

Han Yan: [Why didn’t you wake me up?] Han Yan: [Angry cat emoji]

A reply came in less than a minute.

Adams: [I was afraid you would not feel well, so I called in sick for you.] Adams: [I will make up for the pay you lost.] Adams: [There is food on the table; remember to eat.] Adams: [Please do not be angry. I was wrong. I am sorry.]

Han Yan was not angry at all; he just habitually used exaggerated emojis. He could almost picture Adams through the screen, holding his phone and carefully typing with pursed lips.

Tsk. He is so endearing.

After replying, Han Yan tucked his phone into his pocket and leisurely went downstairs to eat.

Meanwhile, Adams stood nervously under the sun, surrounded by a flock of sheep bleating incessantly. A small sheep, its belly noticeably round and heavy, affectionately nuzzled his trouser leg. He freed a hand to grab a handful of feed from the bucket and held it out to the little sheep. It let out a “baa” and began to eat happily.

When the WeChat notification sounded, Adams hurriedly looked at the screen. The anxiety on his brow vanished instantly, his frown smoothed over, and his lips curved upward uncontrollably.

Han Yan: [No need to apologize. I am not mad; I was just teasing you.] Han Yan: [Petting big dog emoji]

Adams suddenly remembered a cute emoji he had seen someone send to Han Yan. He searched online for a moment and picked a suitable one to send back.

Han Yan was halfway through his meal when he saw the emoji from Adams. He could not help but burst out laughing, holding his chopsticks and chuckling for a long time.

Adams: [Puppy acting cute emoji]

Since Adams had taken the day off for him, Han Yan spent the afternoon lounging on the sofa with nothing to do. Thinking he might as well go see Adams work, he asked for his location and wandered over.

From a distance, Han Yan spotted a black figure standing amidst a sea of white. Adams was looking down, gently stroking the little sheep beside him. With every step he took, the flock moved with him; he was essentially a giant sheep magnet. Han Yan raised an eyebrow and pulled out his phone to capture this rare sight.

On the screen, Adams seemed to sense something. He looked up at the lens, his emerald pupils like the deep waters of a forest pond on a summer afternoon, peaceful and quiet. As the sunlight hit his eyes, a warm halo flickered within them.

Han Yan’s wrist shook, and he captured a blurry photo. In the picture, Adams’ face was hazy and indistinct.

“Why are you here?”

Han Yan put his phone away and rested his hands on the fence. “I was bored.”

Adams struggled through the flock to reach the fence, panting slightly. His eyes sparkled as he looked at Han Yan with joy. Han Yan pinched his chin and gave him a kiss.

“What? Am I not allowed to come?”

“No, you can come. I am very happy you are here,” Adams explained hurriedly, fearing a misunderstanding.

Looking at the flustered Adams, Han Yan suddenly recalled the scene from last night, Adams working hard in bed while calling him “babe” in a raspy voice.

Heh. Two completely different faces, in and out of bed.

But he had to admit, he liked both of them.

“I know. By the way, I did not look closely last time, but today I noticed your sheep’s wool looks different from what I see online.”

Last time he was too busy watching the sunset to notice the sheep. Looking closely now, he saw the sheep only had a thin layer of fleece, quite a far cry from the thick wool he imagined hanging to the ground.

Adams stroked the head of the little sheep that had nuzzled his leg again. “They just had their wool shorn in October. They are in the growth phase now. We shear them every year before summer.”

That is a shame. Han Yan really wanted to feel a sheep at its fluffiest; the texture must be amazing. He reached over the fence and rubbed the little sheep’s head. It nuzzled into his palm.

“It is quite clingy.”

Adams looked down at the sheep acting spoiled toward Han Yan, a smile touching his eyes. “Yes. Aurora is very friendly.”

“Aurora? It has a name?” Han Yan looked at him suspiciously. “You did not name all these sheep, did you?”

There were at least a thousand sheep in this enclosure alone, and this was just one area of the farm. If every sheep had a name, Adams would truly deserve a Guinness World Record.

“No. Aurora is different. I delivered her myself.”

Instantly, Adams’ expression became incredibly soft. He scratched the sheep’s chin, and it let out a contented “baa.” Han Yan stared at Adams’ gentle profile and instinctively reached out to cover it with his hand.

Adams turned to look at him in confusion. Han Yan’s eyes were deep, as if shrouded in a thick fog, making his thoughts unreadable. Adams wanted to hold Han Yan’s hand, but realizing his own hands were dirty, he tilted his head instead to gently nuzzle Han Yan’s palm with his cheek.

Han Yan’s pupils shrank. He let out a faint click of his tongue and leaned in to kiss Adams’ lips. The scent around him was a faint mix of sheep’s milk and grain, not the gamy smell he expected.

Pressed against Adams’ lips, he whispered, “Adams, tell me Aurora’s story.”

That afternoon, Han Yan stayed by Adams’ side as he told the story of how he and Aurora came to be. Aurora’s mother was not a sheep raised on the farm; Adams and John had found her by accident while hunting. Adams had been about to pull the trigger after seeing the thermal image in his scope, but John, beside him, had told him to stop, pressing down on the barrel.

“Adams, do not fire yet. That sheep looks like something is wrong.”

They put their guns away and approached cautiously, only to find the sheep’s belly was distended, her back legs were twitching violently, and she was letting out weak cries.

“She is in labor,” the experienced John concluded. They never hunted pregnant animals. John knelt beside her, feeling her belly. His expression grew grave. “It is a difficult birth. She is in a lot of pain. Adams, we might need to help her deliver.”

It was Adams’ first time facing such a thing, and he was flustered. Fortunately, John’s calm directions allowed him to settle down. When he finally held the blood-stained little sheep in his hands, the warm, soft sensation made his head spin. The mother sheep looked at the little one in his hands, let out a final “baa,” and closed her eyes forever.

In that weak cry, Adams had clearly heard a sense of gratitude. John asked Adams to name the sheep. After a moment of thought, he chose “Aurora,” symbolizing hope and new life. John and Adams brought Aurora back to the farm and cared for her meticulously. She grew up strong and healthy into the sheep she was today.

“Aurora is a fighter. Although she was premature, she has never been sick,” Adams said, glancing at the sheep clinging to Han Yan.

“In that case, you are basically Aurora’s father.” Han Yan thought the sheep was a mirror image of its dad; both were such clingy things.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Before Aurora could even open her eyes, Adams had held her in his arms, feeding her milk one bottle at a time. Calling himself her father was not an exaggeration.

“Aurora is pregnant. She is due any day now, and I am a bit worried.” Adams walked over to Han Yan, looking down at the sheep sandwiched between them. He rubbed her head with a worried look.

Only then did Han Yan notice Aurora’s bulging belly. He had thought she was just chubby, but it turned out there was a little lamb inside. “Do not worry. Aurora will be fine.”

However, a few days later, Han Yan’s words came back to haunt him. He was standing in his pajamas, hair a mess, wearing only one slipper. Watching the little sheep struggling in pain on the ground, the sound of her heart-wrenching bleats echoed in his ears.

Han Yan’s sleepiness vanished instantly. He stood frozen in place, unable to make a sound. He looked mechanically at Adams, who was kneeling on one knee beside the sheep. Adams’ brow was deeply furrowed. He looked up to meet Han Yan’s gaze, his eyes filled with gravity.

“Han Yan, Aurora is having a difficult birth.”