HLM – Chapter 1004 I’ll Just Say a Few Words

More and more people entered the cemetery to stir up trouble, but it was only minor stuff—nothing like the earlier incident of charging into the parade.

First, the terrain of the cemetery made it easy for the police to guard; second, it was, after all, a cemetery—and a martyrs’ cemetery at that. In such a place, no one dared to act recklessly. After all, the neighbors here were the ancestors of Wellington’s residents.

Causing trouble here would anger not only the families of the martyrs, but also the families of countless deceased citizens across Wellington.

After that, everything proceeded much like ceremonies for honoring martyrs in China. People went up one after another to offer flowers and wreaths, followed by speeches delivered in order according to rank.

By the time the memorial concluded, it was close to noon. But the event wasn’t over yet—there were still activities scheduled for the afternoon, namely the popoy fundraising ceremony.

Popoy fundraising referred to the poppy fundraising activity. Although the poppy is considered an evil plant in most countries, when associated with World War I, it takes on a different meaning.

During WWI, poppies were among the first plants to bloom on the barren battlefields of northern France and Belgium. Soldiers passed around a saying: the bright red petals were dyed by the blood of comrades who now rested beneath the earth.

Back in 1915, Canadian army doctor Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae even wrote a poem inspired by this theme. Its opening line reads: “In Flanders fields the poppies blow.”

The poem is written in the voice of the dead and ends with a warning:

If you break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep,
Though poppies grow,
In Flanders fields.

Considering all this history, the poppy eventually became the symbolic flower of WWI, appearing in almost every ceremony commemorating the conflict.

In earlier years, New Zealand’s poppy fundraising involved party members and volunteers selling fresh flowers, with all proceeds going toward improving veterans’ living conditions.

This year, however, things were different: instead of real flowers, they used ceramic poppies.

Because during the event each year, many people would secretly grow their own poppies, wait for them to bloom, then sell them together with the official ones—and the profits naturally went into their own pockets.

The ceramic poppies used this time were beautiful, produced with modern 3D-printing technology. On each bright red petal, a line of small white text recorded the theme of the event:  “Blood-Stained Land, Red Ocean.”

Previously, one poppy cost one NZD. This time, the ceramic poppies came in small, medium, and large sizes:

• Small: 5 NZD
• Large: 20 NZD

But the ceramic flowers were just as vivid and brilliant as real ones.

And thanks to advanced ceramic technology, the petals—though appearing smooth—contained countless micro-capillaries. People could spray perfume onto them, and the fragrance would be stored in the tiny pores, lasting for up to a week.

Wang Bo really liked them. He bought several hundred of various sizes, planning to take them back to Sunset Town for decoration.

Poppies are beautiful, but they are also the source of narcotics, and private cultivation is banned in New Zealand. Yet on the streets, ceramic poppies were warmly received.

Wang Bo pushed a small cart to the entrance of a Walmart to promote them.

As soon as he stopped, two security guards—both burly men—walked over.

To avoid a misunderstanding, he hurriedly explained, “Hello, I’m a participant in the popoy fundraising event. I’m here to sell ceramic flowers.”

One of the burly men nodded. “We know. We’re here to buy some. These ceramic flowers are great, aren’t they?”

Wang Bo laughed. “Yes, they’re great. You can give them to your wife or girlfriend, or even your kids. Spray a little perfume on it and the scent lasts a whole week.”

The man gave him ten dollars and bought a medium-sized flower, then handed it to his colleague. Under the witness of the ceramic poppy, the two men exchanged a tender smile and happily resumed their patrol.

Wang Bo shrugged. Well, he had just witnessed a pure love story.

He arranged the ceramic flowers in a sunny spot—under the sunlight, they looked even more stunning.

He was responsible for selling one hundred ceramic poppies in total. To his surprise, they sold out quickly.

While packing up the cart and preparing to leave, someone stepped in front of him. “Hello, sir. Are you a volunteer for the popoy fundraising event?”

Wang Bo smiled. “Yes. If you’re here to buy a flower, I’m afraid they’re all sold out. But I can contact my colleagues and see if they have any left.”

But the person clearly wasn’t here to buy flowers. One held a microphone, the other carried a camera—they were reporters.

Sure enough, they introduced themselves as staff from The New Zealand Sun, here to interview him about the event.

Although ANZAC Day was meant to honor the soldiers who sacrificed their lives for New Zealand, in recent years, New Zealanders had begun to reflect on the wars they participated in. The tone of the holiday had shifted.

Wang Bo had already guessed what the journalists wanted to ask. After the incident where Turkish people charged into the parade, the Green Party held a small internal meeting instructing members how to answer journalists’ questions on certain topics.

The reporter started with sharp questions—first asking which country he immigrated from, then whether China had similar commemorative events.

Wang Bo replied, “Yes, we do, and quite a few. I think these events are important. In modern history, our country suffered greatly, facing multiple brutal invasions. We must remember the contributions of heroes who fought for our independence and freedom.”

“Then do you think New Zealand needs to hold such events as well?”

Wang Bo paused briefly, then said, “I’m not sure how to put it—I’ll just say a few words.”

“Soldiers who die in war undoubtedly deserve to be remembered. But… did we really need to participate in those wars? This is not about the soldiers. What I want to question is the ruling parties of the time—why did they insist on sending our troops into wars that had nothing to do with New Zealand?”

“We didn’t miss either World War. In the Korean War, we responded to the UN’s call and joined the conflict. In the Vietnam War, we even sent our own brothers to fight. I can’t understand it. I think the ruling parties back then owe us a good explanation.”

These statements were all talking points handed down from the Green Party leadership—they were targeting the National Party. The Labour Party, of course, would be giving similar responses.

As a core member of the Green Party, Wang Bo couldn’t just enjoy the benefits his position brought him—he had obligations too. Sometimes, he had to speak out when the party needed him to.

But he wasn’t very interested in political matters, so after giving a brief answer, he simply pushed his cart and left.