HLM -Chapter 1282 Second-Hand Books

The term “BACH” probably appeared around the 1950s, by which time New Zealand’s main highways had largely been completed and transportation had started to develop.

As a result, with more and more families owning private cars, some previously remote but scenic areas gradually saw the construction of small two- or three-bedroom cottages, usually located in places “facing the sea, where spring flowers bloom.”

These spots were a little away from the main roads but not so remote as to make access difficult, making them ideal for people wanting to escape city life for a while to find themselves and seek tranquility.

From that time onward, the word “Bach” began to gain popularity.

Aside from Wang Bo and Qingyang, most of the people present knew the term, but they didn’t associate it with Wang Bo’s needs.

This was because Wang Bo was asking for a house that was sturdy, durable, quick to build, and affordable—but a BACH wasn’t cheap.

The main reason was its location: high mountains, beaches, or lakesides. Even setting up a tent in such places could be tricky, let alone building a house. Even a small cottage required a significant investment.

In New Zealand, owning a BACH was a dream for many locals and a symbol of middle-class status.

Wang Bo tapped on the table: “How about we build BACHs too?”

Charlie shook his head. “No, Wang, I know what you’re thinking, but that won’t work. People aren’t fools; you can’t pull one over on them.”

Wang Bo replied dissatisfiedly, “How am I pulling one over on them? Look, even Google says these things are extremely popular in New Zealand. Rich people buy them all the time.”

“They buy the scenery around them, not the houses themselves. It’s like in China: if someone developed a residential area full of corrugated steel houses, would anyone buy them?”

Kidd also said, “Boss, I’ve lived in one of these houses. Hot in summer, cold in winter, worse than a toy block house.”

Wang Bo said, “I’ve made up my mind. We’ll build BACHs, but by the lake and in the mountains. Once built, we’ll price them high and sell them to wealthy city folk.”

“But that still doesn’t solve the housing problem for our residents,” Charlie said.

Wang Bo sighed helplessly. “Build towers, sell apartments outside—I want high-rises!”

There were no high-rise residential areas in New Zealand towns. People called such apartments “birdcages” because residents lived suspended in the air; the units were small, limited to one area of activity, with no gardens or yards—like birdcages.

Only by building high-rises could the conflict between providing housing for residents and not wanting to sell land externally be resolved. With no other options, he had no choice.

“If we’re building towers, why bother with BACHs?”

Wang Bo said lazily, “Of course, to make money.”

Many scenic spots in New Zealand were dotted with these small cottages, a trend that started decades ago. Over the years, with societal development, BACHs had also evolved.

Decades ago, the interiors of BACHs were all roughly the same—lacking any luxury facilities, often furnished with second-hand items, with no telephones, and even water stored from collected rainwater.

Modern New Zealand BACHs, however, had become more sophisticated, with increasingly luxurious decor, higher construction standards, and, as population increased, many former BACH areas had become city suburbs: convenient transportation, convenience stores, internet cafes, full mobile signal coverage, and even souvenir shops.

Wang Bo saw a business opportunity here. The forestry heartlands had expanded to four, capable of producing timber—but he didn’t want to exploit them, as that would damage the environment.

Thus, the best way to utilize the forestlands was to build holiday cottages. The environment was beautiful, the air fresh, and small wild game abundant—perfect for a marketable vacation home.

Late August was relatively free, so Wang Bo planned to take his team to buy books.

Because someone on his staff had previously leaked information about the library, the library couldn’t be closed, meaning the books couldn’t be rented—they had to be purchased.

Books in New Zealand weren’t cheap, and to build a large library as Wang Bo had bragged about would cost an enormous sum.

Under these circumstances, he began looking for ways to save money. Naturally, the best method was to scavenge the second-hand market.

He mobilized all his trusted aides, instructing them to bring their teams and source second-hand books and audiovisual materials through every possible channel.

Fortunately, this wasn’t difficult. The second-hand market in New Zealand was booming, with countless channels: second-hand shops, flea markets, online auctions, garage sales, and more.

Wang Bo still adhered to the old Chinese mindset: if he could afford new items, he preferred them—except for things like vintage cars, which naturally had to be second-hand.

New Zealand strictly protected intellectual property, and books and audiovisual materials were a major component of the second-hand market. These channels all offered books for sale.

In late August, Juan saw online that Auckland was holding a special second-hand book sale and passed the information to Wang Bo.

Upon hearing this, Wang Bo immediately assembled his team and headed straight to Auckland.

The sale was held inside a large warehouse company. Wang Bo had contacted the company online in advance, expressing interest in buying books in bulk.

Upon arrival, they identified themselves and were led into the warehouse area.

The warehouse company had a total of twenty-five warehouses. The largest occupied two hectares, standing tall like a bomber production workshop.

The second-hand books for sale were in the last two warehouses. The sales manager said, “There are about 1.4 million volumes, covering all categories: novels, magazines, science textbooks, and more.”

Wang Bo asked, “How much if we buy everything?”

The manager looked at him in surprise. “If you handle the transportation yourself, I think two million will suffice.”

Wang Bo calculated in his mind—just over a dollar per book. Compared to new books, this was incredibly cheap.

The warehouse opened, revealing some people picking through books, carrying backpacks or dragging boxes, and using long sticks with hooks to select interesting items.

Hani explained, “These are book hunters. They pick out books with extra value, buy them, and resell for a profit.”

Wang Bo asked, “How much per book?”

The manager shook his head. “I’m not sure. We have staff responsible for pricing used books.”