After the Fake Young Master Betrayed the Australian Farmer - Chapter 34

“Yanzi, is this your new flame?”

Han Yan emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a bath towel. Adams was not finished washing yet and told him to find something in the closet to wear.

He opened the wardrobe, his gaze skipping over the uniform dark colors until it settled on a splash of white tucked in between. He raised an eyebrow.

The sound of the shower gradually ceased, and Adams walked out carrying a layer of mist. The damp hair on his forehead dripped with water, and droplets slid down the well-defined lines of his muscles before disappearing into the towel wrapped around his waist.

As soon as he looked up, he met a pair of eyes brimming with a playful smile.

Han Yan was lying on the bed, his chin propped in his palms. His gaze, almost tangible, traced a path down Adams’s chest and abdomen. He lingered briefly on the area covered by the towel and finally returned to his face.

The top two buttons of the white shirt were undone, leaving the view beneath the collar partially visible and inviting imagination.

Under Adams’s gaze, Han Yan straightened his body slowly. The loose shirt hung crookedly off his shoulder, revealing a small portion of it. His satin-like skin glowed delicately under the light.

Adams’s breathing grew heavy as a sudden rush of heat surged upward. In Han Yan’s vision, Adams’s pupils contracted, and Han Yan scrambled off the bed, his long legs swinging as he strode toward him.

The hem of the shirt barely covered his buttocks, lifting slightly with his movements. Suddenly, Adams felt a sudden heat on his lips.

“Holy crap, Adams, are you okay?”

Han Yan reached up and wiped Adams’s philtrum. A smear of bright red appeared on his fingertip.

“Seriously? It is not like we have never done it before. Is me wearing your shirt enough to give you a nosebleed?”

Han Yan was dumbfounded. Although his intention was indeed to tease Adams, he had not expected it to literally draw blood.

Realizing his current predicament, Adams covered his nose, his earlobes turning red. He explained in a muffled voice, “A friend of Grandpa’s air-freighted a box of oysters to him. I ate a lot for dinner.”

Han Yan: “…”

That was certainly a potent supplement. No wonder the reaction was so intense; he was definitely running hot.

“Then, do you want to handle it yourself?”

Adams awkwardly looked away and gave a soft “Mhm” before turning back into the bathroom and closing the door.

A moment later, the sound of running water mixed with low, suppressed gasps drifted through the door panel.

Han Yan’s eyes darkened. He stood before the door with his arms crossed, his index finger tapping rhythmically against his arm. After a few moments, he turned the doorknob.

Mist filled the entire bathroom. He walked up to Adams, tilted his chin up for a kiss, and placed his other hand over Adams’s hand, where the veins were bulging.

“Is it uncomfortable?”

“Mhm.”

A hoarse voice escaped Adams’s throat, thick with suppression.

Looking at Adams’s wet eyes, Han Yan gave a sudden, soft laugh. “How is the soundproofing in here?”

The shirt buttons were long gone. The garment hung loosely around Han Yan’s elbows, precariously close to falling off.

His back was pressed against the slippery tiles. Adams’s teeth grazed back and forth against the soft flesh of his neck.

Han Yan’s fingers curled uncontrollably, his tips digging deep into Adams’s shoulders, leaving one scratch mark after another.

Suddenly, he felt a warm drop on his neck. The liquid trickled down, staining his fair skin with a vivid color.

Increasingly heavy breaths sounded against his ear. Intense hormones enveloped his body, making his head spin.

“But you seem to like it, babe.”

Han Yan came downstairs wearing a black turtleneck, only to lock eyes with Zhou Fangrong, who was wearing her reading glasses.

Holding a thermos, she smiled at him kindly. “Xiao Han, it has been a long time.”

“Adams told me you came over specifically for his birthday last night. Thank you so much.”

“It was nothing, Grandma. Adams and I are friends. Celebrating a friend’s birthday is only natural,” Han Yan replied cheerfully.

“That boy, Adams, he used to refuse to celebrate his birthday. He has been blaming himself in his heart all this time.”

“It seems you are the only one who can handle him, Xiao Han. He only listens to you.”

She gave Han Yan a thumbs-up. The latter did not know how to respond for a moment and could only give a polite laugh.

She suddenly changed the subject, mentioning as if in passing, “By the way, I saw a box on the table when I came downstairs this morning.”

The smile on Han Yan’s face froze instantly.

Wait, that was the cake he brought last night! Did Grandma see what he wrote on the cake?

At the thought of that possibility, Han Yan felt his toes curl in embarrassment. His heart was nearly in his throat.

“Grandma, you,”

“Grandma, Grandpa is ready. We will head out after breakfast.”

Han Yan and Zhou Fangrong turned simultaneously to look at the newcomer.

Han Yan’s gaze was so intense it was as if he were looking at a literal savior, making Adams blink in surprise.

Adams walked over and looked at Han Yan inquiringly. The latter winked at him, his fingers hidden at his side quietly hooking Adams’s pinky.

Zhou Fangrong acknowledged him and took off her glasses to stand up. Remembering something, she asked, “By the way, Xiao Han, what were you going to say to me just now?”

“Nothing, Grandma. You must have misheard.”

Han Yan wore a perfectly composed smile. Zhou Fangrong did not ask further, but she gave a meaningful smile.

His scalp tightened. He followed Adams into the kitchen and lowered his voice. “Adams, I suspect your grandma might have seen that cake last night.”

Adams poured oil into a pan. Once it was hot, he cracked a few eggs into it and began stir-frying with a spatula.

He looked at Han Yan with surprise. “So what if she saw it? It is just a cake.”

“Did you forget what I wrote on it?”

Adams’s hand on the spatula suddenly stiffened. He said uncertainly, “She probably did not see it. Besides, even if she did, it is not a big deal.”

What? What do you mean it is not a big deal? Do you want your grandmother to know that her precious grandson is being someone’s “puppy” out there?

Seeing that Adams truly did not seem to care, Han Yan rubbed his temples with a headache.

Fine. Since the person playing the “puppy” did not feel embarrassed, why was he getting worked up over it? Han Yan adopted a “let it be” attitude and stopped dwelling on it.

“By the way, are you guys heading out soon?”

“Yes, we are going to the cemetery.”

Han Yan froze for a second, then reached out to pat his back gently.

“I will wait for you to come back.”

Adams turned to look at him, pursing his lips.

“Come with us.”

“Mhm?”

“I want to introduce you to my parents as a friend. Is that okay?”

Han Yan was not oblivious to his intentions. Rationally, he should have refused, but looking at the expectant shimmer in Adams’s eyes, he sighed silently in his heart.

The birthday boy had asked; what else could he say? He would treat it as a birthday gift and fulfill this small wish.

Han Yan rubbed Adams’s head and said, “Okay.”

The cemetery was not far from the beach they had visited at Christmas. It was a public cemetery situated on a cliffside, standing along the coast.

Crosses and lifelike statues were carved into the headstones. Han Yan was not religious, but the statues of angels and Jesus, looking down on the world with compassionate eyes, still moved him. They were like exquisite works of art.

He had assumed that with the Wilson family’s wealth, they would have chosen a private cemetery. He had not expected them to choose a public one.

Zhou Fangrong seemed to read his mind and explained patiently, “They liked lively places when they were alive. They would probably prefer this to a lonely, private cemetery.”

Many tourists were taking photos, and on the path beside the cemetery, many young people were running or walking their dogs. It lacked the desolation and solemnity usually associated with cemeteries.

The group walked into the cemetery, each holding a bouquet of lilies. Adams had been silent since they arrived. Han Yan squeezed his hand briefly before letting go.

Adams’s tense shoulders relaxed. He shook his head at Han Yan to signal he was fine.

They stopped before a headstone where two small, huddling angels sat side by side on top.

John placed his bouquet before the grave, knelt down, and wiped away a thin layer of dust from the stone.

Two names were engraved on the headstone: Andrew Wilson and Lillian White.

Looking at the dates below the names, Han Yan realized they must have passed away when Adams was five years old. Five, an age old enough to remember things, an age where one should be acting spoiled and carefree in their parents’ arms.

Han Yan’s heart felt as if it were being gnawed by ants. A dull ache spread through him. He set down his bouquet and stared at the small angels for a long time, as if he could see two faces similar to Adams’s through them.

Han Yan and Adams said their goodbyes to Zhou Fangrong and John at the cemetery gate. Adams had driven the rental car on the way there, so they did not need to go back to the villa to retrieve it.

On the drive back, Han Yan took out his phone, found a donation website, and donated 500 dollars in the names of Adams’s parents.

This was the limit of what he could afford to donate. Any more and he would be unable to pay his rent and would be facing homelessness. Although the real estate agent had told him recently that the landlord had lowered the rent, easing his pressure slightly, he had to select his courses again in two months. Thousands of dollars in tuition fees for each subject were waiting for him.

Han Yan sent the website link to Adams and put his phone away.

“I sent you the link to the website where I donated in your parents’ names. You can donate a sum every year from now on. I am sure your parents would be very happy to see it.”

Adams’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Thank you.”

Han Yan reached over and rubbed his head.

“By the way, you have to eat longevity noodles on your birthday. How about I cook a bowl for you when we get back?”

Adams’s expression grew serious. He spoke cautiously, “How about I cook instead?”

Han Yan’s eyebrows shot up. He feigned dissatisfaction. “What do you mean? Are you snubbing my cooking?”

“I am not.”

Adams reflexively denied it, thinking Han Yan was angry. During a red light, he quickly turned his head to explain, only to be met with Han Yan’s teasing gaze. Only then did he realize Han Yan’s good intentions.

He caught Han Yan’s wrist and kissed it.

“Let me cook. You have to work tonight, and you did not get good rest last night. You should catch up on sleep when we get back.”

Han Yan glanced at him and gave a snorted laugh. “Whose fault is it that I did not get good rest?”

“It is my fault.”

Han Yan pinched his cheek and laughed. “I know what you are worried about. Relax, I know what I am doing.”

After returning home, Adams sat obediently at the dining table. Following Han Yan’s request, he sat with his back to the stove, listening nervously to the sounds of Han Yan working in the kitchen. He was as restless as if he were sitting on needles.

He endured nearly ten minutes of agony, which felt as long as a century.

“It is ready.”

Han Yan’s voice sounded from behind him. Before he could turn around, a cup of Braised Beef Instant Noodles was placed in front of him.

“Here, eat up. I worked very hard boiling the water for these noodles.”

Adams stared at the instant noodles. Suddenly, he raised his hand into a fist against his lips and started laughing. This laugh softened the harshness and maturity of his features, revealing the vividness suitable for his age.

“Thank you. You worked hard. I will enjoy them.”

Han Yan’s eyes shifted slightly. He tilted Adams’s face and gave him several kisses.

“I spent a lot of money on this. Do not waste it.”

“Okay.”

The birthday cake had also been brought back. It was not large, just enough for one half each.

Han Yan had Adams cut it horizontally through the middle, neatly separating the “Happy birthday” from the “my puppy.”

He pushed the part that said “my puppy” toward Adams. The latter said nothing, took it, and began to eat.

A smile flashed in Han Yan’s eyes. He wiped a smudge of cream from the corner of Adams’s mouth with his thumb, then brought it to his own lips and licked it clean.

Adams’s gaze deepened. He leaned over, cupped Han Yan’s head with one hand, and kissed his lips.

Han Yan pulled back slowly, holding Adams’s chin. He whispered in a lingering, tender tone, “My puppy.”

Time flew, and soon they reached finals week.

With Fang Jianan’s help, the three had successfully uploaded their 3,000-word essays and PowerPoints. Next was the presentation.

Han Yan was not nervous at all about this. He might not be good at other things, but he was incredibly silver-tongued. He could talk his way out of anything.

As a native English speaker, Adams naturally had nothing to fear. As long as he understood the script, he could improvise freely.

Han Jue, however, was in a miserable state. His English was not great to begin with, and he had to present without notes. Even after memorizing the script for days, he would still get stuck from time to time.

Two days before the presentation, Han Yan had Han Jue come over to help him practice and let the three of them rehearse together.

“Do not worry too much about your accent. That Indian guy’s accent is much heavier than yours, and the old man can still understand him, can he not?”

“Besides, English is not our mother tongue. It is normal to have an accent. The accents of Westerners speaking Chinese are much heavier than ours speaking English!”

Seeing that Han Jue seemed very preoccupied with his accent and was struggling to relax, Han Yan tried to comfort him.

Han Jue silently looked toward Adams, who was cutting fruit in the kitchen. Han Yan understood his meaning and waved his hand.

“He is mixed-race. That is a different story.”

“Your English accent is quite authentic too.”

“I have been in Australia for quite a few years, and my accent is only considered authentic here. If I went to the United States, I would still be told I have a heavy, ‘country’ accent.”

Han Jue was amused by his explanation, and the trace of hesitation and self-consciousness in his heart dissipated.

Han Yan asked Han Jue to read the script once. After listening, he took the manuscript and precisely circled certain words to correct the pronunciation.

Once Han Jue became familiar with the reading, Han Yan had him recite the speech. He noticed that Han Jue tended to stumble on longer, complex sentences, so he broke them down into simple, short phrases and explained the meaning word by word. He also replaced obscure vocabulary with more common terms suited to Han Jue’s level.

After these adjustments, Han Jue became much smoother, at least without any obvious pauses.

“Everyone has five minutes. There is no need to rush; you can take your time. If you finish early, it is fine. I will stretch the time during the conclusion.”

The speaking order for the three was Adams leading, Han Jue in the middle, and Han Yan finishing with the summary.

The professor might ask questions about each part. There was no hard rule that all three must answer, which was a relief. Han Jue might not understand the English questions, and Adams was a bit straightforward; if the professor asked something he did not know, it would be awkward to stand there in silence. Naturally, this responsibility fell on Han Yan’s shoulders.

“Have some fruit and take a break.”

Adams brought a plate of cut fruit to the coffee table in the living room and placed a bowl of peeled grapes right next to Han Yan’s hand.

Seeing this, Han Yan pinched his chin. “Thanks.”

Adams turned back to the kitchen to prep ingredients for dinner.

Han Jue watched his departing back, then noticed the lingering smile on Han Yan’s lips. He said with certainty, “He likes you very much.”

“I know.”

“You like him too.”

Han Yan raised an eyebrow, propping his head on his hand. “And?”

“Why are you not dating?”

Han Jue did not understand what these two were doing. It was clearly mutual affection, yet neither would admit they were in a relationship. Did they have some secret hobby for underground romances?

“Dating is too much trouble. You are not only bound by the relationship, but you also have to spend all day overthinking, worrying if the other person will change their mind or cheat.”

Han Yan’s fingertips tapped the table. His gaze fell on the fruit, and he tossed a grape into his mouth.

“Is it not better to be free like this? Live day by day. If we are unhappy one day, we just part ways. By not investing too much emotion and energy, you can keep the pain to a minimum.”

Han Jue remained silent for a moment before slowly uttering three words: “You are a coward.”

Tsk. That hit the nail on the head.

Han Yan leafed through the speech manuscript nonchalantly. “A coward is a coward then. Sometimes it is good to be a bit cautious.”

Han Jue leaned on the table and picked up a piece of apple with a toothpick. “But it seems one of you is being very brave.”

He would wait and see if the coward would eventually be forced to be brave.

On the day of the presentation, Han Jue’s palms were sweating from nerves. Han Yan patted his shoulder, telling him not to worry and to just speak; he promised to fill in any gaps.

Adams stared at Han Yan’s hand on Han Jue’s shoulder, pursed his lips, and tugged at Han Yan’s sleeve. “I am… also nervous.”

Han Yan reached up and patted his face. “What is there to be nervous about? Just treat the people below as cabbages. If we really mess up, the worst that happens is I will retake the course with you.”

Han Jue quietly glimpsed the bright sparkle in Adams’s eyes and labeled him a “scheming man” in his heart.

The presentation went smoothly. Han Jue realized Han Yan had not been bragging. His mouth kept moving so impressively that both he and Adams were stunned. Even the usually stern professor could not help but nod and show a smile of appreciation.

When the presentation ended, the professor led the applause. Han Yan accepted the praise gracefully and led the two dazed teammates back to their seats.

“How was that? I think we are guaranteed to pass!”

Adams asked hesitantly, “The things you just said… did we mention them in the essay?”

“No, I made them up. Even the data might not be correct. As long as he believed it, it is fine.”

Adams: “…” Han Jue: “…”

To celebrate finishing all their assignments, Han Yan booked a KTV room and brought Fang Jianan and Han Jue along so the four of them could have a blast.

Since they were all adults, they were not just there to sing. They all agreed to buy a case of beer.

At first, Han Jue was quite shy and embarrassed to sing until he heard Fang Jianan’s tone-deaf performance. He could not help but burst into laughter. Han Yan laughed so hard he almost sprayed his beer, slumping onto Adams with his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Even Adams’s lips were pressed into a tight line to keep from laughing.

When the song ended, Fang Jianan still felt great about himself, pushing up his glasses. Combined with his small eyes, he looked even more hilarious.

Despite the laughter, Han Yan clapped supportively and even gave two whistles.

“Thank you, thank you.” Fang Jianan pressed his palms down as if he were a superstar silencing a stadium of fans.

Han Jue also went up to sing a few songs. Although his high notes cracked slightly, compared to Fang Jianan, he sounded like a celestial being.

Fang Jianan took a gulp of beer and smacked his lips. “Not bad. You are just a little behind me.”

Han Yan choked on his beer from Fang Jianan’s thick skin. Adams placed a hand on his back to help him catch his breath.

When it was Han Yan’s turn, he went up, cleared his throat, tapped the microphone, and began singing a song in fluent English. His articulation was clear, his emotions were full, and his voice flowed like a steady spring.

Adams watched his face without blinking. The red mole above Han Yan’s eyebrow looked enchantingly beautiful under the spotlight.

Han Yan inadvertently looked up and met his gaze. In that instant, a heartbeat thundered against Adams’s eardrums. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his fingers on his lap twitched.

By the time he snapped out of it, the singing had stopped, and Han Yan had already sat back down beside him.

“Han Yan, I did not expect you to be this good. I will grudgingly admit your level can tie for first place with mine!”

Han Jue rolled his eyes at Fang Jianan.

Han Yan suppressed his laughter. His hand resting on the sofa accidentally touched Adams’s hand and was immediately gripped tightly. Han Yan did not turn his head, but his thumb gently brushed against the edge of Adams’s palm.

By the time the case of beer was nearly gone, Fang Jianan was stumbling drunk, clutching the microphone and wailing. Han Jue’s fair face was flushed, though his eyes remained clear.

Han Yan’s ears were hurting from Fang Jianan’s singing. He planned to settle the bill and leave after a bathroom break.

Adams followed him. As they were about to return to the room after washing their hands, they ran into a man smelling strongly of alcohol.

Adams supported Han Yan’s waist. “Are you okay?”

Han Yan rubbed his sore arm and shook his head.

Suddenly, a figure pounced on him, grabbing his collar and howling. After a moment of shock, Adams frowned and stepped forward, grabbing the drunk by the back of his collar to pull him off Han Yan.

“Yanzi! You are so heartless! How dare you blacklist me!”

“Who used to skip class with you to eat spicy soup? Who stayed up all night playing games with you? Who sang ‘Friends’ with you? Do you not remember any of it? Oh, no!”

Han Yan was stunned by the nickname. He forgot to fix his messy collar as he looked at the familiar face and frowned. “Xie Yu? What are you doing here?”

Xie Yu shifted his gaze to the man standing in front of Han Yan, a man with a somber expression and a cold face and curled his lip.

“Yanzi, is this your new flame? He looks a bit better than the ones I found for you last time, but is he not a bit too fierce?”