HLM – Chapter 1022 Tuhao Jin Sets Out

The supermarket business was indeed booming. The department-store-style supermarket had unified New Zealand’s retail sector, while the New World supermarket across the street was hit hard. It could only make profits by selling the kinds of things the department store disdained to carry.

Now the supermarket alone brought Wang Bo a considerable profit of two million a month—sometimes even more. Over the course of a year, thirty million in profit was practically guaranteed.

Considering Sunset Town now had two thousand residents, with over five thousand daily visitors, this income wasn’t exaggerated.

Wang Bo picked up two more pairs of gloves before leaving. He told Anderson to feel free to hire more workers; if the current supermarket setup wasn’t enough to handle the situation, they could expand.

The colorful bags of Moqi were brought back to the castle, and a group of people immediately got busy in the garden.

First, they began laying a rainbow pathway. Eva cheerfully suggested, “I think you should lay one in the flower fields too. Sunset Town gets a lot of rain. When the rainy season comes, tourists will still be able to walk among the flowers.”

“That’s a great idea. With Moqi covering the ground, weeds won’t grow easily. It’ll lower the maintenance cost of the flower fields,” Tuhao Jin agreed.

Wang Bo sat on a slab of the material, rubbing his chin. Good idea. He could build an interconnected network of paths throughout the flower fields.

In New Zealand, Moqi was commonly used. Even the flowerbeds lining roadsides used it extensively. It was not only aesthetically pleasing and weed-resistant, but its rough surface could also absorb dust and exhaust kicked up by cars, improving the air quality at ground level.

Wang Bo put on gloves and started cutting the Moqi pieces. This stuff was similar to compressed wood-fiber boards—very sturdy and quite large. To assemble patterns, cutting was necessary.

Bowen, who was helping, turned and said, “Hey, boss, weren’t you thinking of doing some charity? What do you think about taking the kids Eva works with and paving Moqi paths for families with financial difficulties?”

Wang Bo continued cutting quickly. “Isn’t that a bit lacking in impact?”

“Then why don’t you give every household in town a hundred grand? Now that’s impactful.” Bowen snorted.

Wang Bo rolled his eyes. “Ha! I’m doing charity, not trying to become a saint!”

Eva held him back. “Stop talking while cutting. Be careful with the thickness. About ten centimeters is best—not too thin, or the soil underneath will show; not too thick, or it’ll block the ground’s airflow and cause the roots of covered plants to rot.”

“Then how about an event like the one he mentioned?” Wang Bo asked.

Eva nodded. “Absolutely. The children have been doing well recently. We’ve been using new therapies to improve their mental health, including encouraging more interaction with the outside world so they develop a desire to communicate.”

“I heard one of the kids overcame autism?” Hani asked with interest.

Talking about her work, Eva revealed her first genuine smile. “You mean Angelia. She wasn’t autistic—she had severe anxiety disorder. She’s much calmer now and can even act as my little helper.”

“That’s wonderful.” Hani raised his beer. “Eva, let’s toast to your success—your hearts are pure as angels’. May the children recover soon.”

Wang Bo felt he deserved a toast too. He was sure these improvements were related to the Heart of the Campus.

With everyone working continuously, the bare muddy garden quickly transformed into a vibrant display of colors.

Laying Moqi required design plans, so they improvised some patterns. But once the work was done, the results weren’t what they expected.

“I thought we were all Da Vincis. Turns out we’re Picassos—or maybe Monets.” Wang Bo laughed helplessly.

After laying the Moqi, they had to sprinkle nitrogen powder on top. Since Moqi was made primarily of wood scraps, the wood would slowly decompose. The bacteria responsible for breaking it down needed nitrogen.

Therefore, soil covered by Moqi tended to be nitrogen-deficient and required additional nitrogen fertilizer.

On Monday, Wang Bo held a meeting to organize the charity event with the students. Later, he received a call from Aaron Malone, who said he was ready to register Tuhao Jin for the New Zealand Winter Horse Racing Championships.

The New Zealand Winter Championships—also known as the Grade-2 Medium-Long Distance Race—were competitions for relatively unknown racehorses. The race covered 2400 meters, and horses that performed well could advance to the highly anticipated Spring Championships.

This race was held in Christchurch and drew significant attention each year, often producing surprising new contenders.

Of course, the race was closely tied to gambling, which was one reason so many people followed it.

Wang Bo visited Auckland every two weeks to check on Tuhao Jin and Black Horse King. Tuhao Jin had gradually adjusted to living without him and no longer skipped training.

What made him happiest was that even away from Sunset Town, Tuhao Jin and Black Horse King still looked majestic and spirited. It seemed the Soul of the Heart wasn’t ineffective outside their home territory.

When Wang Bo arrived at the racetrack, he was still some distance away from the stables when the stable door suddenly swung open. Tuhao Jin rushed out excitedly, galloping straight toward him.

A horse charging head-on was a terrifying sight—half a ton of muscle barreling forward. On ancient battlefields, cavalry strength relied entirely on their mounts.

But Wang Bo trusted Tuhao Jin and didn’t panic. He stepped slightly to the side of the path.

Tuhao Jin began slowing halfway through the sprint and stopped directly in front of him.

Wang Bo wrapped his arms around the horse’s large head and laughed. “Alright, alright, Dad knows you love me. I love you too. Train a few more days and we’ll go home, okay?”

Malone smiled. “Boss, you can take Tuhao Jin back. He’s finished his coursework.”

Wang Bo was surprised. “Aren’t we supposed to keep training until race day?”

“Tuhao Jin is performing exceptionally well. He learns fast, so we can end early,” Malone explained.

“This kid learns everything fast—he even picked up how to open stable doors in no time. But he’s more sensible now; he won’t open them randomly,” one of the trainers added.

This had been the case long ago. Tuhao Jin had a heart that yearned for freedom. After learning how to open doors, the stable had to put locks on them.

But then Tuhao Jin went on a hunger strike and refused to train.

With no other choice, Malone removed the lock. Tuhao Jin compromised as well, no longer opening the door at random.

With Tuhao Jin in tow, they headed to the track. Malone told Wang Bo to try a run.

Wang Bo set his foot in the stirrup and mounted. Tuhao Jin seemed to know his purpose—or maybe it was habit from training. As soon as Wang Bo sat down, the horse trotted straight behind the race barrier.