After His Sweetheart Moved In, He Came Home Every Night-Chapter 154: Li’s Peacock Display

"I know calling you a ’colleague’ doesn’t suit your status, but it’s the most appropriate introduction right now. And about those gifts... I know they were a thoughtful gesture from Third Uncle."

Alice York said.

Wyatt Sterling laughed out of anger and slowly nodded. "Fine. Very good."

Alice York’s fingers curled at her side. "In that case, I’ll do my best to talk to you and act like a friend in front of my grandparents."

Wyatt Sterling’s face was cold. He simply ignored her.

She knew why he was unhappy, but she didn’t call him out on it, changing the subject instead. "Grandpa said you look familiar. He might have seen you in the news somewhere."

Wyatt Sterling’s expression grew even colder, as if it had been steeped in an ice cellar.

Alice York pretended not to see his cold expression. "If Grandpa brings it up again, I’ll deny it to my last breath. We can’t let them know you’re one of the Sterlings. If they found out, they probably wouldn’t take kindly to you."

"Hmph!"

He snorted coldly and walked straight down the steps and out of the courtyard, leaving her with nothing but his stern, cold back.

Alice York stood rooted to the spot, her gaze glued to his back. However far he walked, she watched. Suppressing the faint ripples in her heart, she let a very slight smile grace her lips.

「Outside the courtyard.」

Mason Cheney was supervising Finn Hawthorne’s work.

Seeing Wyatt Sterling come out, Mason Cheney immediately went to his side to report, "Third Master, I estimate this kid won’t last two hours."

Wyatt Sterling took out a cigarette and held it between his lips. "He has to, whether he can or not."

Mason Cheney took out a match, struck it, and held it up for Wyatt Sterling. Wyatt leaned in, and smoke soon swirled around his eyes and brows.

He took a few deep drags. As the strong scent of tobacco filled his lungs, his mood eased slightly.

Mason Cheney put away the matches. "He really is a young master from a high-society family. He’s never seen any of this stuff and has no idea how to use it. Just now, his first swing trying to chop wood nearly took off his own foot."

Wyatt Sterling scoffed, parting the smoke in front of him with a wave of his hand as he walked toward Finn Hawthorne.

The man was squatting on the ground, head hanging low. The axe in his hands was stuck in a half-split log. It looked like he couldn’t pull it out, and his face was red from the effort.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Finn Hawthorne slowly looked up. "Why are you always staring at me? It’s not like I’m gonna..." *Run.*

Before he could say the last word, Wyatt Sterling’s figure appeared in his peripheral vision. Finn Hawthorne froze, tensing up.

After a few seconds of eye contact, Finn Hawthorne conceded. "I’ve already done my best. I’ve never done any of this stuff before. I just can’t do it."

Wyatt Sterling tapped the ash from his cigarette. "If you don’t know how, you can learn."

Finn Hawthorne looked pained. "I can’t learn. This stuff is a world away from my normal life. I was never supposed to touch any of this in my entire life."

Wyatt Sterling: "And yet, here you are."

Finn Hawthorne suddenly stood up and walked over to Wyatt Sterling. "What terms do you want to negotiate with the Hawthorne Family? I can add even more benefits for you. Just let me go back, okay?"

Biting down on his cigarette, Wyatt Sterling said, "When you insisted on making trouble for Alice York, did you ever think a day like this would come?"

"..."

Finn Hawthorne choked on his words, unable to refute him.

His upbringing was to blame. He had been arrogant his whole life, accustomed to making trouble for anyone he pleased with a single word. He had caused plenty of major incidents over the years, and the Hawthornes had always cleaned up his messes. The only line he’d never crossed was taking a life, which at least made him one of the cleaner ones among the younger generation of the Hawthorne family.

This incident had truly been unexpected. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have rushed to Rhovan overnight, only to fall into Wyatt Sterling’s trap, get beaten up like this, and be forced to work like a slave.

Not far away, the old lady and Old Vaughn returned from picking vegetables.

Wyatt Sterling suddenly held out his hand to Finn Hawthorne. "Pick up the axe. Give it to me."

Finn Hawthorne froze for a moment, not knowing what Wyatt Sterling was planning. His body reacted first, and he moved to pick up the axe.

Since it was stuck in the log and he couldn’t get it out, he handed the axe and the log to Wyatt Sterling together. "Here."

Wyatt Sterling tossed his cigarette and rolled up his sleeves to reveal his strong, well-defined forearms. He took the axe from Finn Hawthorne, turned, and walked over to the chopping block. Finding the right angle, he brought it down in one swing, easily splitting the log and freeing the blade.

Finn Hawthorne’s eyes went wide. "Holy shit!"

Silently, Wyatt Sterling picked up another log, placed it on the chopping block, and with a swift motion, split it in two.

He had the posture and form of someone who knew what he was doing. Especially when he bent over, the taut muscles in his arms looked incredibly powerful.

Seeing this, the old man was about to step forward and stop him but was held back by the old lady. "Old Vaughn, look! This young man is quite strong. He’s not even out of breath from all that work."

Old Vaughn hadn’t noticed at first, only thinking of stopping Wyatt Sterling from working. But after hearing what the old lady said, he couldn’t help but take a closer look.

Then he nodded, his eyes filled with appreciation. "He’s not bad. You can tell just by his build that he’s a capable person."

The old lady laughed secretly. "She said he’s a colleague, but he brought so many gifts today. Do you think he likes our Little Girl?"

Old Vaughn frowned. "Looks like it. You should try to sound out our Little Girl later. What if they’re already together?"

Hearing this, the old lady’s expression also turned serious. "I’d better go ask right away."

Wyatt Sterling caught a glimpse of the old lady hurrying inside out of the corner of his eye. His lips curved into a nearly imperceptible smile as he continued to work. Just then, Old Vaughn walked over, smiling. "Wyatt, don’t keep working so hard. Come inside and sit for a bit. You can leave this stuff to that kid over there."

Wyatt Sterling raised a hand to wipe the thin layer of sweat from his forehead. "It’s fine. I was just idle anyway."

Old Vaughn asked with concern, "Aren’t you tired after chopping for so long?"

"Not tired." Wyatt Sterling bent down and picked up another log. "I’m young. I’ve got plenty of energy."

Old Vaughn laughed and gave Wyatt Sterling a thumbs-up. "Good, good! Not bad at all. I like a young fellow with your kind of vigor."

Wyatt Sterling replied humbly, "You’re too kind, Grandpa."

Old Vaughn said, "I don’t understand all that formal talk you young people use. I just say what I mean."

A smile played on Wyatt Sterling’s lips.

Old Vaughn started walking toward the house. "If you get tired, come in for a drink of water. We don’t need this firewood right away. It’s just for our reserves. We usually use natural gas."

Wyatt Sterling nodded. "Alright."

Finn Hawthorne stood to the side, dumbfounded. As soon as Old Vaughn was gone, Wyatt Sterling tossed the axe to him. "Continue."

Finn Hawthorne: ?

He looked at the axe in his hand, then at Wyatt Sterling, who had reverted to his aloof, otherworldly demeanor, and asked, "Were you just peacocking?"

Wyatt Sterling shot him a glance but didn’t deign to reply.

He had only chopped a few logs, but a thin layer of sweat already covered his forehead. Mason Cheney handed him a handkerchief, which he took and used to wipe his brow. ’They seemed satisfied,’ he thought, recalling his performance and the old couple’s reaction.

Finn Hawthorne clicked his tongue and shook his head. "I never would’ve thought. A man like you, actually pulling out all the stops to win over a girl’s elders."

"A man like me?" Wyatt Sterling asked nonchalantly. "In your eyes, what kind of man am I supposed to be?"

Finn Hawthorne opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Wyatt Sterling: "Why aren’t you saying anything?"

Finn Hawthorne: "Forget it. If I say it, it’ll just give you another reason to beat me up."