HLM -Chapter 1173 Setting Up Camp

Everyone began chiming in at once, offering him advice as if they were all seasoned experts in dog sled races.

Wang Bo listened with a smile as they shared their experiences. No matter what, he was a complete rookie in this field—the more he could learn, the better.

He stayed there for about an hour, barely speaking himself, mostly just listening. After all, he’d already been muttering to himself nonstop along the way and had said more than enough.

The townsfolk, however, took his silence as a sign that he was rather introverted. So when he finally prepared to leave, they all encouraged him to be braver about communicating and to show himself more openly.

That he rested in town for a full hour before setting off again surprised the locals quite a bit.

After all, daylight in Alaska was very short at this time of year—it would start getting dark around four-thirty in the afternoon. In dog sledding, people generally didn’t travel after nightfall, as it was extremely dangerous.

So everyone tried to make the most of daylight for traveling and only set up camp to rest at night.

Wang Bo didn’t mind. He had a significant advantage, after all.

Once back on the trail, having just left the crowd behind, he suddenly felt much less lonely. Putting himself in their place, Wang Bo figured the dogs must feel lonely too, so he opened his throat and started singing loudly to “motivate” them:

“Ah—ah—ah—cough cough—ya-la-so, hey…
Who brought forth the ancient call?
Who left behind a thousand years of longing?
Could it be there’s still an unsung song,
Or a devotion long since impossible to forget… oh—cough!”

The dogs immediately picked up their pace. Overjoyed, Wang Bo burst into laughter.
“Haha, this really works! Don’t worry, dogs—I’ll keep singing to encourage you!”

Dale said helplessly, “Please, brother-in-law, they’re just scared by your noise. When you sing in the castle, has any little one ever wanted to stay near you?”

Wang Bo ignored her and kept belting it out at the top of his lungs.

He sang all the way until the sun dipped toward the horizon. As the temperature began to drop, Tony reminded him, “Wang, hurry and set up camp. Find a sheltered spot and pitch the tent, or it’ll be extremely cold tonight.”

Wang Bo checked the map, hoping to find another settlement, but he had just passed the first relay station. The surroundings were utterly desolate—not even a wild beast or bird in sight.

“So lonely,” he muttered, shaking his head. But after stopping the sled and checking his phone, he suddenly brightened.

He’d forgotten that he was livestreaming. There were plenty of people in the stream—he could talk to them!

Livestreaming apps were popular back home as well, with many streamers even more famous than celebrities. He racked his brain, recalling the tricks streamers often used to get closer to their audience.

Luckily, he was about to pitch his tent—perfect livestream material. He wrapped his phone with a heat pack for protection and aimed it toward the southern side of a nearby hill, the lee side where it was sheltered from the wind.

“Dear friends,” he said, “you’re very lucky to witness a New Zealander pitching a tent in the Arctic. Honestly, back home at this time of year, we don’t even need tents to sleep—just lie down anywhere and you’re good.”

“So here’s my invitation to everyone to come visit Sunset Town. Just imagine it—when the sun sets, drinking beer with friends or your loved one, lying on the grass, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon, feeling the warm breezes of the Southern Hemisphere. Isn’t that beautiful?”

The screen instantly filled with scrolling comments:

“Holy crap, is this guy a mayor or a salesman? He’s way too persuasive—I’m moved.”

“I’ve been to Sunset Town, everyone—highlight me! It really is paradise on earth!”

“Yeah, if there’s a paradise on earth, it must be Sunset Town.”

“I go to Sunset Town every spring and autumn break—it’s an amazing place!”

The tent he used was thick but small, only enough for two people to sleep inside. The inner lining was attached with alpaca fleece—far warmer than wool or duck down.

As soon as the tent was set up, Zhuang Ding immediately crawled inside and refused to come out.

Wang Bo dragged him back out and waved his hand. “Didn’t you see I don’t even have dinner yet? Go—get me something to eat.”

Zhuang Ding blinked, then darted into the nearby pine forest.

This scene triggered another wave of comments:

“Zhuang Ding is so cute—I love him to death!”

“This dog is f***ing smart. I swear he understood what Wang said.”

“I love Zhuang Ding—I’d marry him!”

“Girl, why not marry me instead? I’ve got a big bird, much bigger than a dog.”

Wang Bo took out a slab of beef from the sled. Of course, it had come from the castle’s freezer. To ease the dogs’ burden, he’d reduced his load as much as possible.

In the freezing cold, even starting a fire was troublesome. To prevent forest fires caused by contestants, the organizers had provided windproof outdoor stoves.

These stoves looked a bit like kettles. Inside was a liner for boiling water; outside was a chamber for firewood or coal. Once lit, they could boil water and cook food at the same time.

Seeing the stove, some viewers became curious and asked about it.

After thinking for a moment, Wang Bo said, “I should help promote the event. This kind of stove is sold on Amazon—costs about a hundred bucks. The firepower is pretty good. Can you see it clearly?”

He lit the fire, boiled water, and cooked. He made a beef soup, planning to keep it thick so it could double as a main dish.

As he calmly took out seasonings for the beef soup, nearly all the viewers were impressed:

“So awesome. Truly a man from the land of cuisine.”

“Is New Zealand a land of cuisine?”

“Idiot—Wang is Chinese. Isn’t China a land of cuisine?”

“I hate Chinese food, but what Wang’s making looks pretty good.”

He diced the beef, tossed it into the pot, added water and seasonings, and let it simmer vigorously. Soon, steam filled the air.

At that moment, there was a rustling commotion in the woods. Zhuang Ding seemed to be dragging something back.

Wang Bo thought he’d caught an Arctic hare, a lemming, or maybe a wild bird. But when Zhuang Ding emerged from the forest, Wang Bo was stunned.

That dog was dragging a cow!

Strictly speaking, it was a calf—about the same size as Zhuang Ding, stocky and low-built.

It was a long-haired cow, with a tuft of long hair on its forehead. Its eyes were large and round, and its small ears were hidden beneath thick fur, making it look as though it had no ears at all.

Compared to its head, the fur on its body was even longer, dark brown in color. From the neck and back to the shoulders grew a mane, slightly curly, hanging down like a cloak—exceptionally beautiful.

Zhuang Ding huffed and puffed, shaking his head as he dragged the calf out.

Wang Bo rushed over. Zhuang Ding lifted his head proudly, tongue out, clearly waiting for praise.

But the cold was intense—after sticking its tongue out briefly, it quickly pulled it back in.

The calf wasn’t dead yet, though it was barely alive. When Wang Bo approached, it opened its eyes in terror and tried to struggle to its feet. Unfortunately, the injuries were too severe and the blood loss too great. After one feeble struggle, it had no strength left.