HLM -Chapter 1117 Spring Farming

Wang Bo had no interest in rugby. Seeing a group of his subordinates back down, he didn’t push the matter further. Of course, if they had dared to talk back, he would have gone down himself to show off his skills.

Many people on the field were tossing the rugby ball around. To him, the sport seemed far too simple.

Seeing that he had no intention of joining, some townsfolk were displeased and came over to invite him: “Come on, Mayor! This is rugby—we all have to participate!”

Wang Bo politely declined: “I’ve never played. I don’t know how to play this.”

“Then let me introduce it to you—it’s very simple,” one of them said immediately.

The rugby field was a rectangular lawn, 100 meters long and 70 meters wide. The two long sides were sidelines, and the two short sides were try lines. Behind the try line was a 10–22 meter-deep in-goal area, with the dead-ball line marking the back. At the center of the try line stood the goalposts, 5.6 meters apart, with a crossbar at 3 meters high.

“As long as an attacking player carries the ball into or kicks it into the opponent’s in-goal area and presses it down with their body, it’s a try, worth 5 points.”

“After scoring a try, the attacking team can continue the attack. Any player can attempt a goal from any point along a line perpendicular to the try line through the try point. If the ball goes through the goal, that’s another 2 points.”

“There’s also another scoring method: a player can attempt a drop goal during play, which is worth 3 points if successful. A penalty kick after the opponent’s foul can also score 3 points.”

“That’s basically it. Come join us.” Several people waved at Wang Bo.

Unable to refuse the enthusiasm, Wang Bo asked a few of his subordinates, “Do you want to play?”

Atulu replied happily, “That would be perfect!”

Wang Bo looked at his hefty frame doubtfully: “You can even run in that body?”

Atulu said, “Rugby isn’t just about quarterbacks and running backs; it also needs centers. With my build and athletic ability, I’m perfect for the center position.”

When the rugby field was built, Oakley had donated fifty sets of rugby uniforms and helmets. Wang Bo, with his average build, simply picked one set.

The uniform was like armor: hard on the outside with plastic framing inside. He tried it on and then charged straight at Atulu.

The Maori man screamed as he was sent flying…

He really flew. Everyone who saw this was stunned. Someone asked, “Atulu looks tall and strong—how could he be so easy to knock over?”

“Has no one considered that the mayor might just be too ferocious?”

The game ended before it even started. Wang Bo had hit Atulu pretty hard. The ambulance arrived, and Brother Yi took him away, putting a plaster cast on his knee.

Feeling ashamed, Wang Bo grabbed Atulu’s hand: “Sorry, buddy, I didn’t control my strength just now.”

The Maori man wailed, “No wonder Uncle Bing calls you a human Tyrannosaurus, boss! I surrender now!”

This was all Wang Bo’s fault. He had jumped up and hit Atulu with full force, just for fun and curiosity. Even with protective gear, Atulu got smashed, showing just how terrifying the impact was.

To make it up to Atulu, Wang Bo applied for a work injury claim for him. He would continue receiving his salary, didn’t have to work, and got a work-injury meal allowance.

The meals were personally prepared by Kobe, varying each day, plentiful enough to be filling. Atulu could barely finish them, but luckily, his wife could eat even more, so no food went to waste.

Fortunately, they had just recruited two new police officers, so even with Atulu absent, the police station’s work could continue normally.

On October 31, Halloween, Wang Bo held a “Return of the Hundred Ghosts” themed party at the central square. Zombies, vampires, skeletons, and werewolves roamed everywhere.

Atulu even attended, sitting in a wheelchair dressed as Frankenstein, feasting and drinking at the party. Wang Bo patted his shoulder: “Buddy, why come here instead of resting properly?”

Atulu, with cake in one hand and grilled meat in the other, said, “Never miss a chance for a feast!”

November arrived—the true spring of New Zealand. Overnight, temperatures rose, and the warm, gentle north wind from the equator brought new life. Buds sprouted, grass turned green, and the entire Sunset Town entered a peak season for sightseeing.

The Flower Road was ablaze with colors, and the lavender garden was deep purple, filling the town with fragrance.

Tourists increased, and Wang Bo finally decided to open up the forest tourism route. Although this might affect black truffles and ginseng growth, truffles weren’t visible in spring, summer, or autumn anyway—better to make money from tourists.

Another important matter was that the farm was ready to start work.

During the winter, the farm had been constantly plowed and sprayed with herbicides, to the point Wang Bo worried the soil would be barren from excessive chemicals.

Now, the farm was no longer a wasteland. A fence surrounded the land, and within it were built granaries, tool sheds, parking lots, and apartment buildings—a complete farm was now ready.

Motak was responsible for selecting crops. He submitted the farm’s construction plan to Wang Bo, including a planting schedule. His plan was to first plant a batch of green corn.

Wang Bo considered this.

When he first arrived in New Zealand during summer, he often saw fields lined with corn along the roads outside Auckland. Unlike in China, New Zealand planted corn very densely, much closer than back home.

At the time, he thought it was some new farming technique to increase yield. Later, Charlie told him that the corn wasn’t meant for eating—it was green fodder for cows and beef cattle.

This was Motak’s intention. Seeing Sunset Town’s farms expanding and livestock numbers increasing, he suggested planting green corn to store for winter feed.

Besides self-use, it could be sold externally. In recent years, New Zealand’s climate had caused poor grass growth, so fermented green corn fodder fetched high prices.

It was a solid plan and a good way for the farm to profit. But Motak didn’t know that the farm had the “Heart of the Farm” controlling it.

Wang Bo knew that under the Heart of the Farm’s control, crops would be abundant and delicious. Using it solely as livestock feed would be a waste of its potential.