HLM -Chapter 1095 Tuhao Jin Bets on God

In a daze, McGee walked into the Flaming Mountain Bar.

Several Māori men were playing cards and joking around at the counter. When they saw him, their eyes lit up and they were about to go over and greet him.

Over the past period of time, McGee had been playing the role of the sucker. A lot of the Māori guys’ bar tabs had been picked up by him.

So seeing McGee show up again made them happy.

However, one of them was more clear-headed. He reached out and stopped the others, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong, Kakaburita?” another big, fat man asked strangely.

Kakaburita lowered his voice and said, “He’s not an idiot. He already knows we won’t vote for him. Don’t go over there and make things awkward. Let’s just play cards honestly.”

The other Māori men thought about it and felt it made sense. They nodded in agreement.
“Right. If it were me, I wouldn’t be buying drinks at a time like this either. Cards, cards.”

But then McGee walked over, slumped down beside them, and said dejectedly, “Hey, guys, what do you want to drink? My treat!”

Kakaburita and the others exchanged glances, then spoke frankly. “Mr. McGee, the mayoral vote is about to start. We do support you, but you know… with just a few votes like ours—”

“You support my ass!” McGee slammed the table hard. “Drink! Today I just want to drink myself senseless and drown my sorrows. I don’t want to think about that damn election. Just drink, drink!”

Hearing this, the Māori men immediately got excited. Hey—another sucker caught.

McGee could afford not to think about the election, but Wang Bo couldn’t. He still wanted to pull back every single vote.

But Hani told him that letting a hundred flowers bloom was the New Zealand style of elections. He didn’t need to worry too much. Right now, the biggest threat was Tuhao Jin—and he was Tuhao Jin’s owner.

Nominally speaking, even if Tuhao Jin were elected mayor, the one actually exercising mayoral power would still be Wang Bo.

Wang Bo was very dissatisfied. “Then wouldn’t I be ruling from behind the curtain? I’m not being Cixi, and I’m not being Wu Zetian!”

Hani persuaded him. “It’s not just those women who’ve done it. A few years ago in Russia, Putin did the same thing. Wasn’t Medvedev’s presidency basically a puppet?”

Wang Bo shook his head. “I don’t want a puppet. I want to be a real, hands-on mayor!”

To achieve that goal, he’d have to take the upcoming campaign debates seriously.

Late September was the candidates’ debate session, a very important part of the election. Voters would come to the venue and ask the candidates questions face to face.

Early that morning, Wang Bo carefully picked out his clothes and did his makeup. This was the first time since arriving in New Zealand that he had properly put on makeup. Elizabeth and Celia were helping him.

As for Eva, she was busy dressing up Zhuang Ding and Tuhao Jin.

A few days earlier, Eva had altered one of Wang Bo’s suits, turning it into a dog suit. After putting it on Zhuang Ding, it actually looked pretty convincing.

Dale put a white bow tie on Zhuang Ding. Eva looked at it, shook her head, and switched it to a white necktie instead.

Wang Bo came over, took one look, and burst out laughing. “Damn, this is way too tacky. If you stick a briefcase under his arm, he’d look exactly like a township official.”

Dale asked curiously, “Aren’t you fighting over a township official’s seat anyway?”

The laughter came to an abrupt stop.

Wang Bo thought about it, then tragically realized she was right. Seen that way, Zhuang Ding actually looked quite dignified.

This made him indignant, so he grabbed a pair of sunglasses and put them on Zhuang Ding.

Zhuang Ding felt his vision suddenly darken. Uncomfortable, he shook his head. Wang Bo immediately warned him, “No shaking your head. Don’t drop the glasses, or you’re not going anywhere today.”

Zhuang Ding blinked his silly eyes and immediately behaved himself, accepting reality.

Wang Bo sized him up and nodded in satisfaction. Very good—Zhuang Ding had gone from township official to bodyguard.

Tuhao Jin was also dressed up. Its long mane was braided into neat little plaits lining both sides of its neck. A cross-shaped bandage was stuck on its forehead, and gold powder was sprinkled over its body. Under the sunlight, it shimmered brilliantly.

Wang Bo thought the outfit was lame as hell. But once they arrived in town, the crowd suddenly began applauding Tuhao Jin. Bishop Rooney, draped in robes, even made the sign of the cross toward it.

Inside the debate hall, at a long table, Wang Bo and McGee sat on opposite sides. Zhuang Ding lay between them, with a long-faced Tuhao Jin standing nearby.

Tuhao Jin stood behind the table. In front of it was a thick Bible. A large group of Christians had defected and all gone over to support Tuhao Jin.

Wang Bo was dumbfounded. “How did this happen?”

Hani smiled. “You know the story of Moses parting the Red Sea? What happened in Exodus—back then, the prophet Moses rode a golden horse with a cross mark on its forehead to part the Red Sea.”

Wang Bo: “Eva, you set me up!”

When the questioning began, as expected, McGee was excluded. He could only cast a pleading look toward Ralph Jackson.

Ralph continued pretending not to see him. His mission was already complete. After securing the investment in the central square, there was no need to keep pretending to be McGee’s lackey.

That meant the only one who could take questions was Wang Bo himself. Wang Bo sat upright, wearing a full smile, waiting for the questions.

But the first person to stand up began singing. As soon as he opened his mouth, it was:

“O come, all ye faithful,
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem…”

Immediately, a group of people stood up and joined in:

“Come and behold Him,
Born the King of Angels…”

Wang Bo was stunned. He asked in disbelief, “What is going on here?”

Hani was singing along at the top of his lungs. Elizabeth had no choice but to act as his secretary and explain, “They’re singing a hymn—Adeste Fideles, ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful.’”

Wang Bo said, “I know it’s a Christian hymn. What I mean is, what’s this all about? Do we have to thank God at a debate? Divine right of kings?”

Elizabeth said awkwardly, “I think… they’re expressing their support for Tuhao Jin and for God.”

Wang Bo was speechless. Since when had Tuhao Jin started standing with God? It was a wild horse, for crying out loud. Wasn’t this getting a bit ridiculous?

After the hymn ended, the Christians finally sat down, satisfied. Bishop Rooney once again made the sign of the cross on his chest.

Wang Bo chuckled and said, “Thank God. Actually, I’m also a loyal believer in God the Almighty.”

“Now, this passage—‘And with whom was He angry for forty years? Was it not with those who sinned, whose bodies fell in the wilderness? And to whom did He swear that they would not enter His rest, if not to those who were disobedient? So we see that they were unable to enter because of unbelief’—who said this?” Rooney asked.