After the Fake Young Master Betrayed the Australian Farmer - Chapter 6

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Adams, what is your last name?”

Adams paused, replying honestly, “Wilson. My full name is Adams Wilson.”

“So, is it the Wilson I am thinking of?”

Han Yan lifted his eyelids and looked straight at him. The latter was silent for a moment before giving a soft “Mm.”

“I did not mean to keep it from you.”

Han Yan did not say anything. He looked down, picked up a fallen ornament from the floor, and wordlessly continued decorating the Christmas tree.

Adams thought he was angry. Panic rose in his heart, yet he did not know what to do to appease him; he could only stand there in a daze, his lips pressed into a tight, straight line.

In truth, Han Yan was not actually that angry. After all, he had not asked the man’s last name. To be honest, even if he had explicitly asked and Adams had made up a fake name to brush him off, he would not have felt very upset.

This was the Wilsons! The famous, prestigious Wilsons!

When a stranger suddenly appears claiming to want to be your friend, it is only natural to have an ulterior motive. It is always good to be a bit cautious when you are out in the world.

Forget it, that was not important. What was important was that the more he thought about it, the more he felt his taste was truly excellent! It was rare enough to find someone whose physique and face perfectly suited his appetite, and it turned out the guy was from a prominent family, the “filthy rich” kind.

Tsk, as expected of me. My eye for people is sharper than anyone else’s.

He originally wanted to tell Adams he was not mad, but seeing the man’s helpless and flustered state, a wicked urge to tease him surfaced. He deliberately kept his face cold, acting as if he did not want to pay him any attention.

During dinner, Adams spent the entire time cautiously observing Han Yan. Han Yan, however, was busy eating the food Zhou Fangrong kept piling onto his plate, chatting with the two elders and not sparing a single glance for Adams.

Adams sat there as if on pins and needles, while Han Yan enjoyed himself quite a bit. It was spicy, really spicy, but it was also incredibly delicious!

He picked up his glass, drained the milk in one go, put down his chopsticks, and stood up while patting his full stomach.

“By the way, Grandma, I brought a box of chocolates for you and a bottle of wine for John. They are in my suitcase; I will go up and get them for you now!”

“Oh, you child! It is enough that you came; why bring gifts? You are treating us like strangers.”

Han Yan smiled as he listened to the uniquely Chinese polite protests, skillfully replying with a few lines that left Zhou Fangrong beaming with delight. She was clearly becoming very fond of him.

As he left the table and headed upstairs, he heard footsteps following him at a short distance. He did not even need to turn around to guess who was trailing behind him like a puppy. He curled his lips and strolled back to the guest room.

Inside the room, Han Yan knelt to open his suitcase. Catching a glimpse of the figure at the door out of the corner of his eye, he said lazily, “Why are you just standing there like a statue? You look like a door god.”

Having received permission, Adams breathed a silent sigh of relief and walked over to his side. The words he had already prepared tumbled out.

“Han Yan, you, please stop being angry, okay?”

Han Yan looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Where did you get the idea that I am angry?”

Adams pursed his lips. “You are ignoring me.”

A flash of grievance flickered in those emerald green eyes, making Han Yan’s heart itch.

“Mm, I am angry. So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I am sorry.”

Adams’ tone was sincere, as if he truly had reflected deeply on his mistake, even though that mistake did not actually amount to much in Han Yan’s eyes.

“That is it?”

Adams was not sure what Han Yan meant, so he just nodded dumbly. Seeing this, the corners of Han Yan’s mouth twitched upward almost imperceptibly, and he beckoned to him.

“Lean down.”

Adams did not understand why, but he obeyed. When the distance between them was only half an arm’s length, Han Yan suddenly reached out, hooked his arm around Adams’ neck, and rubbed the back of his head. He tilted his head close to the other man’s ear and whispered, “A make up hug.”

The scent of Han Yan surrounded Adams, a faint orange blossom fragrance mixed with a hint of lemon tartness, like a midsummer day soaked in sunlight, warm and intense. Soft lips brushed against his ear almost imperceptibly, and hot breath puffed into his ear canal, making it feel scorching.

Han Yan let go and glanced at the man’s ear, which had turned a visible shade of red. He raised an eyebrow.

“Why, did you hug me?” Adams asked, his voice husky, staring intently at Han Yan.

“Did I not say? It is a make up hug. Once we hug, we are good again. When friends have a disagreement, is it not normal to apologize and hug afterward?”

“Is that how you used to make up with your friends?”

“Yeah, how else?”

Han Yan replied with a matter of fact expression, though he rolled his eyes internally. Make up with friends by apologizing and hugging?

Tsk, I have never actually fought with anyone in my life. If someone makes me unhappy, I do not even bother talking to them; I just go straight for the ‘delete and block’ service. Why give them a chance to apologize? And hugging? If anyone dared to rush up and hug me, I would kick them across the room!

It must be said that Han Yan went through a lot of trouble just to “touch some meat,” with lies flowing effortlessly from his lips. When he pulled his hand back, he even managed a quick feel of Adams’ chest muscles. The texture was good; he hoped it was not just for show.

Adams’ hands at his sides tightened, and veins surfaced clearly on his arms.

Han Yan dug out the gifts for Zhou Fangrong and John, holding them in one hand while using the other to hook around Adams’ neck, dragging him out.

“Don’t just stand there like a fool. Grandpa and Grandma are waiting for us downstairs. Let’s go, my friend.”

Zhou Fangrong and John both loved Han Yan’s gifts, and they gave him and Adams the gifts they had prepared in return. Han Yan had not expected to receive a gift himself; he thanked them in surprise and found it was a small box of scented candles.

Zhou Fangrong said she had made them herself, orange blossom scented, and was not sure if he would like them.

“Grandma, how did you know orange blossom is my favorite? I even insist on using orange blossom scented body wash!”

“It is good that you like it. From how Adams described you over the phone, I felt this scent would suit you very well.”

It was hard to say whether it was because Adams’ description was detailed or Zhou Fangrong’s intuition was sharp. Regardless, Han Yan truly liked the gift. He suddenly grew curious about what scent Zhou Fangrong thought suited Adams.

He leaned in close to the candle in Adams’ hand and took a sniff. The scent of white musk drifted into his nose, clean and pure, like the smell left in a blanket after it has been dried in the sun.

It truly did suit Adams.

“Grandma, your scent-blending skills are amazing! One sniff of this and I immediately think of Adams.”

Han Yan praised her sincerely, and Zhou Fangrong could not hide the smile on her face. She told him that if he liked it, she would blend more for him next time.

Adams brought the Christmas cake out from the kitchen. Everyone raised their glasses with a “Merry Christmas,” celebrating the arrival of the holiday together.

Han Yan had a high alcohol tolerance; he had never been drunk under the table before. Even after a bottle of hard liquor, he could still walk in a straight line. Therefore, a few glasses of red wine were like drinking plain water to him.

He looked at the remains of the Christmas feast on the table, then at the harmonious scene of the family, and finally, his gaze settled on the lit Christmas tree. The warm yellow light strips were twined among the dark green branches, and at the very top sat a star shimmering with golden light, casting a glow like a hazy veil.

A point of light was reflected in Han Yan’s eyes. His thinking slowed for a moment, but his mind quickly cleared again.

After finishing the wine and helping clear the table, Han Yan was about to go to his room when his wrist was suddenly caught by a large, well-defined hand. He turned his head and looked at Adams. The man’s eyes were not as clear as usual; they were clouded with an obvious touch of drunkenness. Han Yan laughed softly.

Adams’ tolerance was truly pathetic. In the past, Han Yan would have joked about making him sit at the kids’ table.

“Is something wrong?”

“I have a gift for you.”

Han Yan’s curiosity was piqued. He followed Adams into his room, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, quietly watching Adams’ back as he rummaged through his luggage. The thin fabric of his shirt outlined the contours of his back muscles; even this was enough to see that beneath the clothes lay a body full of vigorous life. Wild, aggressive, and, more importantly, untamed.

Han Yan’s finger tapped lightly on his arm.

Adams turned around, trotting over to him while holding something in his hands. His eyes were startlingly bright, with a dazzling light shimmering beneath the emerald green surface.

“This is for you. Merry Christmas.”

Han Yan looked down at his open palm. In the center of the calloused palm stood a wooden cat carving. The cat’s front paws were stretched forward as it crouched on the ground, with its hindquarters and tail arched high. A cat stretching its limbs appeared vividly before his eyes.

“It is quite nice. Where did you buy it?”

Han Yan took the wooden carving, his thumb rubbing over the angled surfaces. It had been polished smooth and did not prick the skin.

“I made it myself.”

Han Yan’s finger paused. He looked up at Adams, whose gaze was always sincere, and tilted his head. “Why a cat?”

“You look like one. At least, I think so.”

Adams suddenly grinned after speaking. The smile was a bit goofy, but with that handsome face, even the silliness looked pure. Han Yan felt that in this state, he looked a bit like Benny the Golden Retriever. Perhaps this was the so-called “pets resemble their owners” phenomenon?

His heart stirred. He grabbed Adams’ collar, stood on his tiptoes, and leaned in to kiss the corner of his lips.

Adams stared at him in a daze. Han Yan curled his lips and leaned forward to kiss the man’s mouth. The rich, mellow aroma of red wine diffused between their pressed lips. He used his tongue to gently trace the shape of the other’s lips, slipping into the gap between them to tangle their tongues together.

Adams went from being inexperienced and passive to becoming skilled and proactive. He pulled Han Yan into his arms, cupped his chin, and swept his tongue across his teeth, dominant as he plundered the other’s oxygen.

Increasingly heavy breaths escaped his throat. Han Yan was being kissed to the point of breathlessness; he grabbed the man’s hair and pulled back, managing to create a bit of distance.

He panted slightly, looking with amusement at Adams, whose eyes were clouded with desire. He used his thumb to wipe away the trace of moisture from the corner of the man’s lips.

“What’s the rush?”

He glanced pointedly downward, and the curve of his lips widened.

“Shall we continue?”

“Why did you kiss me?” Adams’ voice was hoarse, as if he were struggling to suppress something.

Han Yan pressed against his lips, rubbing them back and forth, and laughed softly. “A return gift.”

“Merry Christmas, Adams.”