HLM -Chapter 1286 How Lick Bricks Are Made

New Zealand is vast and sparsely populated, rich in resources, and people have very little sense of frugality. You could tell from Wang Bo’s last book purchase: over a million volumes of books were simply treated as waste!

In winter, as soon as the weather turned cold, towns and villages would crank up the heating like crazy. Every household feared being uncomfortable, so rooms would have both stoves and electric heaters, as if hoping for snow outside while stripping down to their undershirts inside.

Yet, despite all the stoves and intense heating, Wang Bo had never seen New Zealand suffer from smog. As long as it wasn’t cloudy, the sun shone brilliantly, and the weather stayed clear.

So when he learned online that some experts in China blamed smog on stoves in the north, he found it laughable. After all, stoves don’t talk—let them take the blame however you like.

Motak’s wife placed a large teapot on the table. They used big cups, and after pouring it full, Wang Bo felt proud if he could drink the whole cup.

Besides the couple, some nearby ranchers had come to visit. After the snowfall, there wasn’t much to do, so it was a good chance to take a short break.

“Hey, Moses, how have you been? I heard you fell off a horse recently?” Wang Bo asked, sipping his sweet-and-sour black tea.

Old Moses shook his head. “Don’t even mention it. Damn it, I thought I was done for. I even saw God’s feet!”

“That serious?”

“Yeah, if it weren’t for God’s mercy kicking me back down to earth, you’d now be going to put a wreath on my grave.”

Hearing his humorous tone, Wang Bo knew it wasn’t a big deal.

Someone asked, “What did you haul for Motak? I saw it from the window—looks like feed?”

Wang Bo replied, “Yes, feed. One batch is alfalfa, the other is silage mainly made of green corn.”

Instantly, someone expressed regret: “He’s lucky! Do you still need lick bricks? I have a workshop that can make them. You don’t even need to give me feed in return—you know I’m happy to help for free, haha.”

Everyone laughed. Motak shook his head. “Forget it, Krait. Aren’t you planning to stop raising livestock? What would you do with the hay?”

Krait chuckled: “This winter’s snow is good. Looks like there won’t be drought for the next half-year. So why wouldn’t I raise livestock?”

“I really want to switch farms; the groundwater here is terrible.”

“You’re doing fine. I heard someone bought a ranch in Cromwell recently. Cheap, but the buyer was a foreigner who knew nothing about ranching. The ranch lacked groundwater and suffered heavy losses.”

Wang Bo had heard the news: the buyer was a Chinese American, a wealthy Wall Street tycoon, trying to profit from the New Zealand land boom.

After sipping the sweet tea for a while and warming up, Motak got ready to make lick bricks. Wang Bo, as the client, couldn’t let Motak do it all alone. So, the long-unpracticed Wang rolled up his sleeves and joined in.

Outside, the cold was biting. He rolled up his sleeves and stepped out, only to roll them back down immediately, shivering with goosebumps.

Motak had converted a warehouse into a workshop, capable of producing not only lick bricks but also dry feed, beef jerky, cheese, and more. The warehouse was spotless, machines polished to a shine. After a walkthrough, Wang Bo said, “With this, your ranch and farm can be self-sufficient.”

Motak laughed. “Every ranch should have such a production line. Don’t you feel tempted?”

Wang Bo shrugged. “My ranch already has a mutton oil line and a cheese line. I’m planning a yogurt line next.”

Motak dissolved a bag of chemicals in water. “I’ve heard of your cheese and milk, but they’re too expensive. I can’t afford them.”

Everything produced at Sunset Ranch is high-end boutique, with only a small amount sold cheaply to townspeople; much of it is exported.

Wang Bo said, “If you like, you can come anytime and take whatever you want. Hey, what’s in that?”

Motak patted the bag. “High-nitrogen urea to supplement livestock with nitrogen. Plus sugar, honey, salt, mineral additives, and vitamins—all essential for the animals.”

“Sugar and honey?”

“Of course. They’re not stupid. If it didn’t taste good, how would they be interested in licking it?” Motak explained.

Once a large bucket of the nutrient solution was ready, Motak whistled. His workers brought out three large bags labeled “silicate cement.”

“Cement too?” Wang Bo asked, surprised.

Motak spread his hands. “It’s called a lick brick—how could it not have cement? Don’t worry; it won’t harm them. In fact, their rumen benefits from some silicate particles.”

The nutrient solution and silicate were mixed, then wheat bran and other dry powders were added. The mixer buzzed to life.

After nearly half an hour, Motak whistled again. Workers began the formal production of lick bricks.

Lick bricks require molds. Motak explained, “Usually, the mold size depends on the number of cows or sheep and feeding habits.”

“Standard parameters are fine,” Wang Bo nodded. “My ranch uses standard molds.”

Motak’s molds were mostly wood, rectangular, weighing about five kilograms each.

A batch of molds was filled with the mixture. After sitting for an hour to partially harden, the bricks were removed, and the molds reused for the next batch.

Lick bricks fully harden in about 30 hours, and only after drying completely can they be used. Freshly made bricks are brownish-yellow with a sweet aroma, almost like a snack.

“My formula differs slightly from feed factories, but the principle is the same: provide a good fermentation environment in the rumen, promote microbial growth, increase feed intake, and aid fiber digestion and absorption,” Motak explained, seeing Wang Bo’s interest.

Wang Bo said, “Good, you did well.”

Motak smiled. “Of course. Love what you do. Next batch, we’ll make deworming bricks for spring—it’s great for the livestock.”

Lick bricks come in several types: standard nutrient bricks, mineral salt bricks, high-quality supplement bricks, and deworming bricks.

Naturally, Wang Bo didn’t refuse Motak’s generosity—saving him the trouble of purchasing them himself.