After the Fake Young Master Betrayed the Australian Farmer - Chapter 22.2

Busy from dawn to dusk, Han Yan was exhausted physically and mentally. The constant noise from the room next door was so disruptive that he did not even have the energy to go over and argue. He pulled the quilt over his head, burying himself.

Ah, what a goddamn life.

Han Yan had already chosen his classes back when he was at the farm. After comparing schedules with Fang Jianan, he found they only had one overlapping class. He could only pray that the group members he encountered this semester would be normal people—not the type who skip group meetings every day claiming they are unwell or have “family issues.” Then, when the deadline arrives and he asks for their progress, he finds out they haven’t written a single word. Han Yan swore that if he met someone like that, he would truly lose it and throw a punch.

One night, he was working his shift at the Chinese restaurant as usual. A group of customers had just left, and he finally had a moment to sit and catch his breath. He sat on the steps of the kitchen’s back door, the toes of his sneakers stained with tiny spots of grime. He looked up at the night sky. Because of the city’s light pollution, the stars were nowhere near as brilliant as they were at the farm; even the moon seemed to be draped in a thin veil, looking misty and blurred.

“Han Yan, customers at the front. Go attend to them.”

“Coming!”

Han Yan stood up, patted his pants, turned into the kitchen, and closed the door. A figure stepped out from the shadows at the end of the alley. He walked to the spot where Han Yan had just been sitting, leaned against the door, and looked up at the sky. The moonlight illuminated his eyes, which looked like polished jade.

“Wait, are my eyes playing tricks on me? Is that Han Yan?”

A slouching socialite hooked his arm around the neck of the boy beside him, nodding toward the entrance of the Chinese restaurant. By then, Han Yan had already gone inside, so they only saw his retreating back.

“Unlikely, right? Could Han Yan actually accept working in a place like this?”

They had all grown up with Han Yan and knew his pampered nature. Back home, he even had someone pick the bones out of his fish to ensure the meat was bone-free before he would eat it. Would a young master who couldn’t even be bothered to pick his own fishbones work in such a harsh environment?

“Times have changed. Han Yan is no longer the Young Master of the Han family. If he doesn’t work, is he supposed to just sit and wait for his savings to run out?”

The boy glanced at the socialite speechlessly. Seeing that the latter was itching to drag them inside to investigate, he had no choice but to turn his head and ask, “Ah Jue, do you want to eat at this place?”

Han Jue’s gaze had been fixed on that retreating figure. Hearing the question, he withdrew his gaze and shook his head. “I don’t really feel like Chinese food today. Didn’t Yezi say there was a great Thai place? Let’s go try that instead.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Xie Yu, stop staring inside! If you want to eat there, go ahead. I’m going for Thai with Ah Jue and Yezi.” With that, he shook off Xie Yu’s hand and pulled Han Jue away quickly, with Yezi following close behind.

“Hey, wait for me!”

Han Yan truly felt that he and his roommate, Jack, were fundamentally incompatible. Every night, Jack was either bringing someone home for “aerobic exercise,” shouting into his mic while gaming, or inviting a bunch of friends over for a party in the middle of the night. The wailing and howling at night made Han Yan feel like they were performing a funeral rite.

Several times, Han Yan had gone out to politely ask them to keep it down, only to be met with even worse behavior. He finally reached his limit. He strode into the kitchen, pulled out a meat cleaver, and slammed it onto the table with a ferocious look. The blade instantly sank several centimeters into the wood. This move stunned the group; the room fell dead silent.

“Quiet now? Good. Excellent.”

“If you bogans make another sound, you will end up just like this table.”

He let out a sinister laugh, pulled the cleaver out, and tossed it casually onto the table. He walked back to his room and slammed the door. It took a long time for any movement to start up outside again, and the deafening heavy metal music was replaced with soft ballads. Han Yan fell asleep satisfied.

Indeed, the person who goes crazy first enjoys the world.

The first day of school happened to coincide with New Year’s Eve. While families back home were reuniting, the poor international student still had to attend classes. This was Han Yan’s first New Year’s Eve abroad. Previously, no matter what happened, he would always take a private jet back home. Now that he had no family, there was no one to reunite with anyway, so it didn’t matter if he celebrated or not.

He was lounging at his desk, boredly scrolling through his phone, when he came across a news item. He glanced at it casually; it was a report about a kangaroo that failed to attack a farmer and was instead beaten so badly it ended up in the hospital. He scrolled through the comments and burst out laughing at the top one, giving it a “like.”

While he was laughing, someone sat down next to him. He instinctively glanced over. The next second, his wrist shook, and his phone clattered onto the desk. His pupils shrank as he stared at the expressionless man sitting beside him with a cold gaze. He nearly grabbed his bag and bolted for the door.

Holy shit. Have I been so tired lately that I’m hallucinating?

Why was Adams here? He hadn’t heard that Adams was a university student. And what are the odds? The same university, the same elective class? The world was becoming too surreal. He must still be dreaming. Han Yan pinched the back of his hand. Ouch. That actually hurts.

“Why are you pinching yourself?”

Adams grabbed Han Yan’s hand. Seeing the various burn marks on the back of his hand, he frowned deeply. Han Yan pulled his hand back and looked up. “What are you doing here?”

Adams’ hand tightened into a fist. He pursed his lips. “I am a student here.”

“You never mentioned this before.”

“You didn’t tell me a lot of things either.” Adams’ tone was sharp; he was clearly still holding a grudge.

Han Yan let out an “oh” and stopped talking. Just then, the professor walked in. He turned, pulled his laptop out of his bag, and opened it on the desk, not sparing another glance for Adams.

Right. It’s not like our relationship was ever one where we shared everything.

Adams stared at Han Yan’s profile. The white light from the screen was reflected in his pupils, forming a tiny point of light. After calling Adams’ name three times without a response, the professor was about to mark him absent when Han Yan raised his hand. “Professor, Adams is here. He just didn’t hear you.”

Adams finally came back to his senses. Seeing the whole class focused on him, he stiffened uncomfortably. “I am Adams. Sorry, I didn’t hear you just now.”

The professor shrugged and marked him present.

“Focus on the lecture. Stop staring at me,” Han Yan whispered in a low voice. Adams grunted an “okay,” but his peripheral vision kept drifting toward Han Yan. Han Yan noticed, of course, which meant he didn’t absorb much from the lesson at all.

Finally, the class ended. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his laptop, shoved it into his bag, and stood up to leave the classroom. Footsteps sounded immediately behind him. He didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

“What exactly do you want?” Han Yan turned around helplessly, only to be bumped by someone walking toward him. His balance faltered. Adams stepped forward to steady his waist. The scent of fresh laundry detergent drifted into his nose, making his already irritable mood feel even more agitated.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Han Yan pushed Adams away and took a step back, maintaining a social distance.

A flash of disappointment crossed Adams’ eyes, and he tightened his lips.

“Adams, we made things very clear back then. And didn’t you say you didn’t want to see me again? What is the meaning of this now?”

Han Yan saw Adams lower his eyes. The veins on his arms were bulging as if he were restraining something. He rubbed his temples, which had been stinging since he woke up. Before turning to leave, he dropped a final sentence: “Stop following me.”

“Han Yan, are you okay? You look terrible today.” Fang Jianan, wearing his backpack, looked at Han Yan with concern. “If you’re not feeling well, I’ll go get the free food today and share some with you later.”

“I’m fine, let’s go together. It’s pizza day, right? That pizza is actually pretty good; I’ve been craving it.”

Fang Jianan was struggling himself, and the food he collected was exactly enough for one person. If he shared some with Han Yan, the guy would have to skimp for the rest of the week.

The queue today was as endless as ever. He and Fang Jianan stood at the end of the line, chatting idly. It was February in Australia, and although it was technically autumn, the sun was still hanging overhead, making his vision go black.

“Han Yan, your face is getting paler. Are you really okay?” Fang Jianan watched as Han Yan’s face turned ghastly white and his lips lost all color.

Han Yan’s body swayed. Before he could fall forward, a pair of strong arms caught him steadily and pulled him into a firm embrace. The familiar scent meant he didn’t even need to open his eyes to know who it was.

Tsk. Persistent.

“Han Yan, are you okay? Where does it hurt?” Adams freed a hand to brush the hair away from Han Yan’s forehead. He pressed his own forehead against Han Yan’s to confirm there was no fever before letting out a sigh of relief. He stared at Han Yan’s noticeably thinner chin, his eyes darkening, and a deep furrow appearing between his brows.

“Who are you?” Fang Jianan looked at the foreign man who had suddenly appeared. He was speaking fluent Chinese and acting overly intimate with Han Yan, clearly someone Han Yan knew. But for safety’s sake, Fang Jianan looked up and gathered the courage to ask. This man was way too tall—he stood there like a mountain, blocking most of the sunlight. Looking at those muscles, Fang Jianan had no doubt that if this man wasn’t a friend, he could probably send him flying with one punch.

“Fang Jianan, it’s okay. He’s my friend, Adams.”

Han Yan gradually recovered. As his vision refocused, he looked straight into eyes filled with heartache, making him daze for a moment. He let out a long breath, pried Adams’ arms away, and stepped back, offering a polite thank you.

“Oh, a friend. That’s fine then.” Fang Jianan patted his chest, calming his racing heart. Scared me to death. Since he’s an ally, it’s fine. “Han Yan, maybe you should go back and rest. I’m afraid you’ll collapse again.”

Before Han Yan could refuse, Adams took over. “I will get it for you. Go sit and rest in the cafe nearby.”

Adams’ tone brooked no argument, just like every time he had insisted Han Yan dry his hair before sleeping. Fang Jianan nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, Han Yan, just let your friend get it for you. I’ve already noted down the things you usually get; I’ll just tell your friend.”

Fine. What else could he say? Besides, given his current physical state, he really wasn’t suited to be out in the scorching sun. But every cent he earned part-time had to go toward rent; if he didn’t get this free food, he really didn’t know how he would survive the next week. He nodded, told Fang Jianan to WeChat him if anything happened, and then gave Adams a small smile.

“Thanks for the trouble.”

This was the first time Adams had seen Han Yan smile at him since their breakup. He looked stunned for a moment. “It is no trouble.”

Han Yan picked a window seat. From this angle, he could see the queue. In the line, Adams seemed to be saying something to Fang Jianan. Fang Jianan pulled out his phone and showed him the screen. Adams said something else, pulled out his own phone, and the two of them started fiddling with their devices. Han Yan stared at their backs, let out a soft click of his tongue, leaned on the table with his head buried in his arms, and closed his eyes to catch up on sleep.

He didn’t know how much time had passed—enough that his arm had gone numb—before he finally lifted his head. There was a red mark on his cheek from the pressure. Looking at his messy hair and sleepy eyes in the glass window, he momentarily lost track of where he was.

“You’re awake?”

The low voice drifted into his ears. He blinked, turning his head toward the sound. Adams was sitting beside him, leaning his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, watching him.

“You… why are you still here?”

Han Yan’s voice was dry and raspy. Adams unscrewed a bottle of water and handed it over. Han Yan took it and drank a few sips to moisten his throat.

“I have already collected the food for you. I saw you were asleep, so I did not disturb you.”

True. When he was asleep, Adams rarely woke him. Like that time hunting, the man could sit and wait for over an hour for him to wake up. He wondered how long he had been waiting this time. Han Yan stretched, noticing the bag on the table in front of Adams.

“Thanks for queuing so long for me. By the way, where is Fang Jianan?”

“He went back. He has a tutoring job at five.”

Oh? They got that detailed in such a short time? Guess he is better at socializing than I thought. Han Yan nodded and stood up, picking up the bag from the table.

“Alright, I should go too. From now on, let’s just be ordinary classmates. If you have questions about coursework, you can ask me. If you have trouble in your daily life, I’ll help if I can.” Though, this guy probably wouldn’t have any troubles—and even if he did, they’d be things Han Yan couldn’t solve. “Thanks for today. Next time, I’ll treat you to lunch at the school cafeteria.”

He turned to leave, but his wrist was caught. Adams stood up and took the bag from his hand.

“I will drive you back. You are not feeling well today; I am afraid you will not make it on your own.”

“No need. I’m really fine now. I’ll head back by myself.”

Adams just stared at him. Han Yan could actually read a sense of grievance and accusation in that look, as if saying: “You’re just going to throw me away after using me?”

Han Yan’s scalp tingled. Are you kidding? If Adams found out where he lived, it would be a disaster. He instinctively felt that if Adams knew his address, he would never have a peaceful day again. For the sake of his peace and quiet, he gritted his teeth, gave up on his life-saving rations for the next week, and turned to run.

Damn. I can’t believe I’m actually running away in panic. It’s really damaging my image!

When Han Yan got home, he dove into bed and started thinking about how he would survive the next week. If push came to shove, maybe he could buy a few more packs of pickled cabbage noodles from Fang Jianan? Or eat more staff meals at the part-time job? There were other free food points in other districts—they were just a bit far. Maybe he could take a day off tomorrow and check them out?

While his brain was racing, there was a sudden knock on the front door. He heard the door to the room next door open and footsteps heading toward the entrance.

“Huh? You’re looking for Yan? Yan! Someone’s here for you!” Jack shouted into the house. Han Yan instantly sprang up from his bed. While wondering who could be looking for him, he shuffled out in his slippers.

He shot a disgusted look at Jack. Shirtless all day—do you think you’re a monkey? He looked up at the person standing in the doorway, and his heart gave a violent thud. The person was holding a bag, and his gaze moved between Jack and Han Yan, his eyes darkening ominously.

“Adams, why are you here?”

“No, wait! How do you know I live here?” Han Yan was stunned. He had never calculated that Adams would find out his address.

Adams forcefully bumped past Jack’s shoulder, ignoring the curses behind him. He grabbed Han Yan’s arm and asked which room was his. Han Yan instinctively pointed, and was immediately dragged inside as the door was locked.

Adams tossed the bag aside, pinned Han Yan against the door, and leaned down to kiss him.

???

Han Yan grabbed the man’s hair and pulled back, growling through gritted teeth: “Adams, what exactly is wrong with you!”

“Han Yan, keep being my FWB.”

“Only with me.”