HLM – Chapter 111 The Trouble with the Townsfolk

After sending off the tax inspection team that had come to sneak some fruits of labor, the weather remained scorching hot in the days that followed. With nothing much to do, Wang Bo immersed himself in study materials to familiarize himself with municipal affairs.

Since the township hadn’t officially started operations yet, there weren’t many residents or departments, which meant not many responsibilities. He needed to seize this time to learn as much as possible—so that if the council tried to play any tricks again, he’d have the law to fight back with.

Unfortunately, Carlisle Hani had yet to arrive. With that hot-tempered tough guy stationed here, things would’ve been much easier.

The inspector he had worked so hard to recruit still hadn’t reported for duty. According to New Zealand’s labor contract laws, employees are allowed up to a one-month handover period after resignation, and this applies to civil servants too.

Wang Bo had spoken to Hani over the phone. The latter was earnest in his work and could realistically complete the transition in just a week. But the mayor of Tahiti Town refused to let him go and kept delaying his resignation process. Hani could only come to Sunset Town once the full month had passed.

Thankfully, the month was nearly up.

Charlie told Wang Bo that two more families had moved into town. Unlike the painter couple, they were here for the economic potential of Route 8 and had come early to claim a spot in the business zone along the highway.

Wang Bo decided to visit these new residents. He didn’t have any fancy gifts to offer, so he opted for a little “dumpling diplomacy”—this time, serving up high-end fish meat dumplings.

Dumplings are a signature Chinese delicacy. Indigenous New Zealanders typically don’t eat dumplings—not because they don’t want to, but because they don’t know how to make them. They’re used to things like pizza, or “toppings on flatbread.”

Though pizza is popular and pricey back in China, Wang Bo insisted that it couldn’t compare to authentic Chinese food like dumplings or stuffed pastries.

The dumplings he was preparing this time were fish dumplings—made with fish meat, a common filling in his hometown, but rare in inland cities. They’re pricey and the preparation process is complicated. The most popular type back home is mackerel dumplings, which require the fish to be steamed, the meat carefully picked out with a knife, and then mixed with chives and scallions.

Normally, Wang Bo wouldn’t go to such lengths, but he had brought some fish meat prepared by his mother when he left home. It had been sitting in the freezer for a while, and if he didn’t use it now, it would soon lose its freshness.

After the last experience making lamb dumplings, Juan had learned how to wrap dumplings. Working together with Wang Bo, the two quickly made over 200 dumplings.

“Wow, these look beautiful. Juan, you’ve really got a pair of skillful hands,” Wang Bo said admiringly as he looked at the neatly arranged dumplings.

Juan smiled modestly. “Obviously, that’s because you taught me well.”

Hani’s son, Clarson, walked past and sneered. “What kind of monstrosity is this? Mexican food? Chinese food? Ha, it looks disgusting…”

Wang Bo frowned and stood up, scolding sharply, “Did no one ever teach you to respect others?”

The tough dog jumped up immediately, baring his pale teeth and fixing Clarson with a dark, cold glare.

The brat didn’t back down. He straightened his neck and said, “It’s not racism. I’m just telling the truth—look at this food, it’s just ugly.”

“Shut it, punk!” Bowen came over to smooth things over—he was playing the good cop now, and Clarson idolized him.

The dumplings were dropped into boiling water and came out after a few rolls. Fish dumplings cook faster than lamb or beef ones because the fish meat had already been steamed.

They made over 200 dumplings, and Wang Bo originally planned to take 50 or 60 to visit the new townspeople. But with a group of six people and one dog devouring them, they were completely wiped out—and it still wasn’t enough…

Clarson, who had mocked the dumplings’ appearance earlier, ended up eating more than anyone else. Rubbing his now bulging belly, he exclaimed, “Oh God, this is amazing! I never knew fish could be eaten this way. Incredible!”

“So, are we still going to visit the new residents?” Charlie asked with a belch.

Wang Bo had intended to delay it, but after opening the sandbox map, he saw a conflict unfolding in front of the small buildings by the highway. Two business vans were parked by the road, and someone was pulling at the painter couple.

Seeing this, Wang Bo’s heart skipped a beat. He nodded and said, “Kobe, you stay and clean up. The rest of you, come with me to check on the new residents.”

Bowen was surprised. “Just five of us?”

Wang Bo nodded. “Yes, we need to show the new residents our strength, so they can have confidence in the town. Oh, and bring Zhuang Ding too—I noticed kids love dogs.”

“Woof woof woof woof!” The dog happily barked, pleased to be of use.

With the highway in place, everything became more convenient. Although the Grade-3 road wasn’t fully paved yet, the foundation was finished—turning the whole stretch into flat ground, just needing asphalt to be poured.

Driving at 80 mph, the Land Cruiser quickly reached the row of small buildings by the highway. Over the past month, the modular housing company had built over ten more units, forming a proper little settlement.

The business vans were still there. Around ten burly men had formed a semicircle around the painter’s home. The female artist, Barbara, stood at the door wielding a sharp watermelon knife, shouting heatedly at the men.

“What’s going on?” Wang Bo asked with feigned surprise.

Charlie replied grimly, “These guys are from a gambling company. Looks like Barbara’s family is in trouble.”

Wang Bo didn’t know how Charlie had identified them, but now wasn’t the time to ask. He hung his police badge around his neck, got out of the car, and barked, “Hey Barbara, what are you doing?”

One of the burly men swept a violent gaze at them. When he noticed Wang Bo’s badge, he softened a bit and said, “You the sheriff here? Look, someone’s waving a weapon around—you’d better do something.”

Wang Bo turned to Barbara. “Ma’am, please put the knife away. Just look at yourself—what do you think you’re doing?”

His words were a bit soft, and the nearby construction workers and the two new households shook their heads in disapproval. Little Hani even looked on with mockery.

Barbara had been yelling for a while and her voice was hoarse. She shouted, “No, Mayor, I can’t drop my weapon. I—”

“That’s no damn weapon!” Wang Bo scoffed. “You mean to tell me your house doesn’t have a real one? Like a hunting rifle or shotgun? If not, I’ve got a handgun you can use—take mine.”

Hearing this, the big man’s face changed. He snapped, “Buddy, do you even know what you’re saying?”

Wang Bo stepped up firmly, pushing his hand against the man’s chest. “Listen up, big guy. This is my turf. Don’t you dare stir up trouble here, got it?”

Bowen whistled. “Nicely done, Wang!”

Seeing him get physical, the other burly men quickly gathered around. Wang Bo motioned for them not to move yet and turned to Barbara. “What’s going on exactly? Can you explain?”

Before Barbara could respond, the big man shouted, “This bitch and her family owe us high-interest debt and are trying to run—”