HLM – Chapter 1083 New Zealand Angry Youths

When Wang Bo and the others returned to their seats, the exhibition race was still underway.

The horses on the field were all tall and strong, either pure black, pure white, or pure brown. Every horse was perfectly groomed, with glossy coats and a majestic appearance.

The riders atop the horses were young men and women, just as striking as their mounts. The men were handsome, the women beautiful—a living, moving spectacle on the field.

What caught Wang Bo’s attention, however, was their attire. The riders weren’t dressed uniformly; their clothes bore various logos, such as Coca-Cola and Pepsi, Apple and Samsung, as well as sports brands like Nike and Adidas.

“Are they advertising?” Wang Bo asked.

Hani, reading his tone, understood the implication: “Yes. Every horse race is a commercial event. Major advertisers wouldn’t miss it, and the organizers are happy to make some money.”

“If we wanted to advertise for the town, there’s no need. For one, advertising here is expensive, and for another, it’s unnecessary—Sunset Town is already famous across all of New Zealand.”

Wang Bo nodded and focused on the equestrian performance.

This show had elements reminiscent of Maori war dances. Cowboys and cowgirls leapt and tumbled on horseback, repeatedly landing and remounting, performing combat-like moves while shouting loudly to display their courage and skill.

After the equestrian display, there was a cowboy show.

This performance was more grounded: cattle and sheep were released into the arena to run freely, then the cowboys charged in on horseback, each wielding a lasso.

Six cowboys acted like a SWAT team, covering each other and striking in sequence. Every time a lasso was thrown, it accurately looped around a cow’s or sheep’s head.

Wang Bo laughed: “This is similar to the shows we do at our ranch, though ours aren’t as aesthetically impressive. Maybe we should have Petersson’s team come learn from them.”

“Oh heavens, spare the old diesel engine! That guy’s old bones couldn’t handle this—he’d be asleep in a coffin in two days,” Hani joked.

Equestrian shows in New Zealand and Australia often include such segments, to remind spectators that horseback riding originated from pastoral practices, and to encourage people not to forget their roots.

After a series of equestrian events, the official race was about to begin.

But first, there was a ceremonial moment. The New Zealand flag was raised in the center of the arena, and everyone stood. A little girl walked to the center and led the crowd in singing the national anthem.

Seeing the girl in red, Qingyang remarked, “I suddenly feel like I’m back at the 2008 Olympics—just like this, performances, and a girl in red leading the anthem.”

As the melody played, the girl’s clear voice rang out:

“Beneath God’s gaze, this country
Brings together our love.
Please hear our prayers, sincere and humble,
May God bless our land of freedom.
Guard the three stars over the Pacific,
Abandon conflict and war,
And let praise come from afar,
God bless New Zealand…”

Listening to the anthem, Wang Bo remembered his early days as an immigrant, tricking the immigration officer with Chinese in the office. Thinking back to how the officer understood him while he smugly felt clever, he couldn’t help but smile.

Time had passed so fast—five years in the blink of an eye!

He grinned, but nearby, a few young men didn’t like it. Several turned and glared at him angrily, and one shouted, “Show some respect for our national anthem, you uncultured bastard!”

Wang Bo knew smiling at such a moment wasn’t entirely appropriate, but he wasn’t laughing—just smiling. Besides, why couldn’t one smile during the anthem?

The young man’s tone was hostile. Wang Bo coldly snorted, “My respect for the anthem surpasses what you can ever show. Don’t judge someone before understanding them.”

The young men continued singing the anthem, ignoring his words, but their eyes bore into him with even greater hostility.

The stare irritated Wang Bo—wasn’t it just eye contact? He didn’t flinch and met their gaze with an equally fierce look.

When the anthem ended, the young men suddenly surrounded him. A white youth reached out to shove him, cursing, “Come on, bastard! I’ll teach you what respect means…”

“He must be a Chinese tourist. I’ve heard Chinese tourists are the worst-behaved…”

“Deal with this bastard! Teach him to respect New Zealand, to respect ‘God Bless New Zealand’!”

Hearing this, Wang Bo felt disgusted, as if he had swallowed a fly. He realized he had run into some New Zealand angry youths.

The race venue was chaotic—this was a horse race known for speed and excitement. During the anthem, the crowd was solemn, but once it ended, the scene erupted like a boiling pot.

Their confrontation went largely unnoticed by others.

Four or five youths tried to push Wang Bo, and Hani, Bowen, and the others tensed, ready to intervene.

Wang Bo raised his hand to stop them, his face dark. “I don’t want to ruin my mood because of you. Get lost.”

“F**k, hit him! How dare he insult us? Hit him!” one youth grabbed Wang Bo by the chest.

Someone noticed the scuffle and waved at the security ahead. Two strong guards ran over.

Wang Bo let the youth grab his clothes, then quickly pulled out his golden police badge, hanging it on his chest, and slammed the youth to the ground.

The other youths froze. The guards charged, shouting, “What are you doing? Who dares cause trouble here? Troublemakers, get out!”

Wang Bo tossed the badge to a guard. “You call assaulting an officer just ‘causing trouble’? Do you want to go against New Zealand police?!”

The guard caught the badge, stunned. “Assaulting an officer? What’s going on?”

Another guard scrutinized Wang Bo, hesitating: “You… you’re Wang, the mayor of Sunset Town?”

“Yes, mayor of Sunset Town, chief of police of Sunset Town, and owner of Sunset Town,” Bowen added.

The five youths were shocked. Sunset Town’s reputation had become nationwide in New Zealand. As for Mayor Wang Bo, he might be the most talked-about person in the country in recent years.

Hani stepped forward: “Young men, don’t be so arrogant. Think before you act. You think this person disrespects New Zealand? Know that he pays taxes here by the billions. After contributing so much, you dare insult him? Hmph!”

Wang Bo reclaimed his badge and pushed the youth toward a guard. “Take them to the police station. I still want to watch the race.”

The youth shouted, “Why should we go to the police station?”

Wang Bo shrugged. “No reason. Anyway, I have evidence. If you don’t confess, my lawyer will contact you. The judge will explain the reason.”