HLM – Chapter 1006 Someone Will Take Care of You

Of course, the translation was done in Māori, so Zheng Jinyuan had no idea what was actually said. He only knew one thing—this protest business would have to be handled by himself.

Fortunately, he had grown up as a small-time hooligan and had experience with this kind of thing. Carrying a banner, he headed straight to the government office building. At the entrance, he found two trees and began banging around as he set up his protest display.

Wang Bo was also extremely busy. A series of town construction projects needed his approval, and he still had to host Ye Qipeng and Yang Zhilong’s group. The two were very considerate—they didn’t ask him to accompany them everywhere. Instead, they toured Sunset Town on their own for two days before coming to his office to drink tea and coffee.

Wang Bo wasn’t much of a tea drinker, nor did he keep high-quality tea on hand. But Ye Qipeng loved tea and always carried good tea leaves with him. This time, he had even brought top-grade Jin Junmei black tea to New Zealand—since New Zealand was in its autumn-winter season, black tea was a perfect fit.

Good tea needed good water. Elizabeth boiled a pot using spiritual spring water. Although her tea-brewing skills were only average, the combination of spring water and Jin Junmei worked magically well, and the fragrance of the tea filled the room.

Ye Qipeng was an expert. After tasting the tea, he nodded. “Good water—soft and refreshing. No wonder your place can produce such excellent cattle and sheep.”

Wang Bo took a sip as well. The tea was indeed clear and aromatic, but he only detected the fragrance of the tea leaves. As for water? He couldn’t taste anything special.

The two guests had come to rest and relax, not talk business, so the mood was very light and pleasant.

Under such circumstances, anyone interrupting them would naturally make the two bigwigs quite unhappy.

And unsurprisingly, the interrupter was Zheng Jinyuan.

He had finished hanging his banner outside, bought a loudspeaker from who-knows-where, and started shouting at the entrance:

“Wang Bo, mayor of Sunset Town! Wang Bo, mayor of Sunset Town!
You let your dog run wild—it wrecked my car! Wang Bo! Wang Bo!
If you’re a man, come out and take responsibility!”

Hearing the grating voice, Ye Qipeng immediately frowned.

Yang Zhilong asked, “What’s going on? What’s that person yelling about?”

They had only been in Sunset Town for two days, and during those two days they had just been sightseeing, drinking tea, and chatting—they knew nothing about current town happenings.

Wang Bo chuckled and explained everything from beginning to end. To be honest, Zheng Jinyuan pulling this stunt really made him feel helpless.

New Zealand law grants people the freedom to protest and demonstrate. As long as it’s within legal boundaries, the government cannot stop them.

But they also couldn’t let Zheng Jinyuan scream endlessly outside, so Atulu decided to handle the situation.

Seeing a big, bear-like Māori police officer walking toward him, Zheng Jinyuan originally felt a bit intimidated, but remembering their interactions over the past two days—this scary-looking cop actually had a gentle temper—he immediately regained his arrogance.

Atulu preferred persuasion over force. He walked over with a smile. “Sir, I must say, your voice is quite impressive. But are you sure that aside from your fellow tourists, anyone else can even understand what you’re yelling?”

Zheng Jinyuan was speechless. It was true—he was uneducated, and his English was worse than his Japanese, since he frequently watched Japanese romantic action films.

But so what? His goal was simply to disgust Wang Bo. Whether others understood didn’t matter.  As long as Wang Bo understood, that was enough.

Atulu tried reasoning with him, but the more politely he spoke, the tougher Zheng Jinyuan acted. He assumed Wang Bo was scared and had sent Atulu to negotiate.

His thug instincts then came alive. “Tell that Wang guy this isn’t over. He has to fix my car and compensate me for emotional damage AND my lost business these past few days. I’ve suffered a lot because of this.”

Seeing that reasoning wouldn’t work, Atulu stopped wasting time and left. He’d rather go discuss novels with Hill than deal with this nonsense.

The noise outside continued endlessly.

Ye Qipeng finally lost patience. He gave his refined assistant a look. “A-Lang, go take care of it.”

Wang Bo felt embarrassed. “How about this—you two take a walk outside for a bit. Tonight I’ll host you at the castle.”

Ye Qipeng smiled. “No need. Let’s continue our talk about fishing. A-Lang is very good at handling this sort of thing.”

Sure enough, when A-Lang went out, Zheng Jinyuan initially thought Wang Bo had finally broken and sent someone to beg him. He immediately raised his voice, arrogant and overbearing.

Then A-Lang said something to him. Zheng Jinyuan answered a phone call—and immediately packed up and left with his tail between his legs.

From the moment he hung up to the moment he left, he didn’t dare glance toward Wang Bo’s office.

Wang Bo was curious. After A-Lang returned, he asked:

“Thank you for the help. But may I ask—Assistant Lang, how exactly did you deal with that thug?”

A-Lang smiled gently as always. “Since he’s a thug, I used a thug’s method. I asked for his identity, then called a friend in Shannan Province. Compared to that friend, this Mr. Zheng isn’t a thug—just a street punk.”

Although A-Lang’s method didn’t look flashy, it taught Wang Bo a vivid lesson—the true value of connections.

That evening, Wang Bo treated the two to dinner. He knew they were financial giants who had eaten every kind of luxury cuisine imaginable. So instead of fancy dishes, he decided they would cook for themselves.

He slaughtered a young lamb, hunted a few rabbits and wild pheasants with a light crossbow, and earlier that afternoon they had set nets and hooks at Lake Hawea, catching fish, shrimp, and crabs—a full harvest.

Sure enough, this kind of rustic feast interested Ye Qipeng and Yang Zhilong much more.

While boiling lamb stew, Yang Zhilong sighed: “Old Ye, how many years has it been since we cooked together like this? Back in university, we used to cook all the time.”

Ye Qipeng laughed. “What do you mean ‘used to’? During that whole year we were studying for exams in that shared apartment, didn’t we cook every day?”

Yang Zhilong nodded. “Come to think of it, I can still picture the braised pork ribs you used to make.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ye Qipeng said. “Time flies too fast. But if I make braised ribs now, you’d probably hit me after tasting them.”

Their cooking skills were indeed terrible. The rabbit they roasted came out with burnt skin, yet the inside was still bleeding.

Wang Bo took a big clay pot, filled it with spring water and lamb, and set it over the fire to simmer.

Then he took the roasted rabbit from Ye Qipeng, chopped off the burnt part, and roasted it all over again.