HLM -Chapter 1236 A New Helicopter

There was a kitchen on the yacht. After boarding, Father Bo and Mother Bo went down to the galley to prepare lunch, planning to deep-fry the small silverfish.

Lake Hāwea’s water was crystal clear, with no pollution sources around. Wang Bo had also forbidden people from dumping trash into the lake, so the water quality was excellent.
One benefit of this was that the silverfish didn’t even need washing—you could put them straight into the pan.

Of course, Father Bo and Mother Bo still rinsed the fish twice. The silverfish weren’t dead yet; while being washed they were lively and jumping about. Mother Bo said, “They’re really energetic—those tails are slapping my hands and it actually hurts a bit.”

Wang Bo said, “Mom, in that case don’t put them in the pan yet. New Zealand doesn’t allow deep-frying live fish.”

Mother Bo was taken aback. “There’s such a rule? Why? Fish are freshest when eaten alive.”

Wang Bo replied, “New Zealanders think that’s too cruel. Just wait—pour out the water and fry them after they die.”

Mother Bo said helplessly, “Isn’t suffocating them even more cruel? And besides, if you can’t fry live fish, then why is foie gras allowed? I saw on TV that foie gras is taken from live geese.”

Dale came over and said, “Yeah, that’s why animal protection groups are now asking New Zealand to ban taking foie gras from live geese. Our teacher is a member of that association—she even went to Christchurch to join protests.”

Just then, Atulu walked over and said, “It’s fine. I’m Māori. Māori people can fry fish directly—our ancestors have eaten them this way for generations.”

Atulu’s youngest son also shouted, “My mom likes frying live fish. That’s when it tastes best. Once it’s dead, it stinks.”

That was actually true—fish do spoil easily once they die. But silverfish don’t have much fishy smell; they mostly just smell of water, so they were a bit better.

Father Bo and Mother Bo discussed it and decided on a compromise: they poured the fish onto the counter and picked out the ones that stopped moving, dipped them in batter, and then fried them.

The batter was prepared by Wang Bo, in two versions—one sweet and one savory.

It was very simple: wheat flour mixed with egg whites and water. Honey was added for the sweet batter, and salt and five-spice powder for the savory one.

Mother Bo picked out several dozen of the largest silverfish and simmered them in a soup pot. She added lemon juice and a bit of milk, cooking it the New Zealand way.

Eva said, “Mom, add more lemon juice. I can’t stand any fishy smell.”

Mother Bo replied, “Don’t worry. I’ll adjust the flavor so there’s no fishiness at all. You definitely won’t feel like throwing up.”

Wang Bo joked, “Pour in some honey too—I like it sweet.”

Mother Bo shot him a glare. “If you like sweet, go drink honey water yourself.”

Silverfish cooked very quickly—roll them in hot oil for five seconds and they had to be taken out immediately.

At that moment, the silverfish turned a pale golden color on the outside. The batter formed only a thin layer, and while fully cooked, the fish meat stayed tender and delicate—absolutely delicious.

Mother Bo first served a small plate to Dale. Looking at the drooling Little Bartier and Atulu’s two chubby sons, she said, “You eat together with your friends.”

The Little Bartier waved his hand. “Let Dale eat first. I’m not hungry—I prefer fishing.”

He wasn’t interested in fried fish; coming from a wealthy family, what kind of fish hadn’t he eaten before?

Atulu’s two chubby sons, on the other hand, were practically starving. Hearing Mother Bo’s words, they hurried over. “Dale, let’s eat together.”

Dale gave each of them a few fish. Atulu’s eldest son was speechless. “Dale, are you feeding cats?”

Father Bo fried another batch, and Mother Bo handed it to Atulu’s sons. “Here, here—eat these. There’s more.”

Dale ate one fish per bite, her cherry lips glistening with oil, her chubby cheeks puffing in and out like a little hamster.

Wang Bo prepared cumin powder and chili powder as seasonings. He dipped a piece in cumin and found the flavor incredibly fresh and delicious. The fish meat was very tender, the bones almost unnoticeable—better than any fried fish he’d ever had.

As he said this, Atulu replied while wolfing the food down, “Of course. Even in the supermarket, this fish costs 150 dollars per kilo. What other fish is that expensive?”

Silverfish were tasty, and while the fishing season allowed it, Wang Bo went out on the boat every day to haul in a net.

But no matter how good something is, eating it too much gets tiresome. After a week straight, aside from Atulu—who still ate with great relish—Wang Bo, Uncle Bing, and the others had had their fill.

By late April, Eva needed to go for another prenatal checkup.

Wang Bo felt that riding the small helicopter was no longer suitable. The comfort was too poor, and the EC-120’s cruising speed wasn’t fast enough—it no longer met his needs.

So he contacted Cato Maric, the man who had delivered his EC-120, saying he wanted to buy a new helicopter and asking him to act as a consultant.

Cato was the sales manager of the European Helicopter Group’s New Zealand office and also a member of the Private Helicopter Association—an expert in this field.

Wang Bo still chose to purchase from the European Helicopter Group, since maintenance and after-sales service would be much more convenient.

Cato readily agreed and invited him to Auckland.

That day, Wang Bo sent Eva to the hospital for her checkup, then went to the European Helicopter Group’s Auckland branch.

Cato waited for him at the entrance. After shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, they entered his office and got straight to the point.

“I already know your requirements,” Cato said. “I’ve prepared several candidate options for you to look at.”

“Go ahead and introduce them,” Wang Bo said.

“Given that you already own an EC-120, you can continue with higher-end EC models, such as the EC-130, EC-135, or EC-145. They’re all excellent helicopters,” Cato explained.

Wang Bo asked, “What is the best business helicopter your company produces?”

Cato replied without hesitation, “In New Zealand, there are two top business helicopters: the Super Puma EC225 and the Super Puma AS332. Both are twin-engine, multi-purpose helicopters, and they may not be suitable for you.”

Wang Bo asked, “Besides private and business use, they can also be used for rescue and transport, right?”

Cato nodded. “Yes. That’s why if you only use them privately, it would be a waste. You may have heard of the Super Puma—they’re more commonly used for police and military purposes.”

Wang Bo thought for a moment. Military use was definitely unnecessary for him. As for police use, he planned to fully refit the EC-120 into a police helicopter, so this new luxury helicopter didn’t need any police functions.

Cato turned his computer screen toward him and said, “I think the EC-145 suits you best. Coincidentally, in the past two years we’ve collaborated with Mercedes-Benz of Germany to jointly launch a luxury EC-145 helicopter with a distinctly premium character. Why don’t you take a look?”

Wang Bo nodded, signaling for him to begin the introduction.