HLM – Chapter 132 The Overbearing CEO’s Gratitude

After making his grand vow, Wang Bo had to refocus on the present—there were still a few guests who had stayed behind and needed hosting.

Using his newfound insight, he now realized that the dozen or so wealthy individuals who remained were likely closer to Adams.

For Wang Bo, this situation was actually ideal. Too many people made for a chaotic social scene; with fewer guests, his social interactions could be more targeted.

Among these guests, the most striking figure was Bartier Good, the President of ANZ Bank’s New Zealand division. At the moment, he was standing with a thin young boy, examining the multi-million-yuan model train.

Wang Bo complimented Adams, “Actually, your influence is pretty remarkable. President Good must be one of the wealthiest among these people, right? Getting him to stay—now that’s impressive.”

Adams rubbed his nose awkwardly and replied, “Thanks for the compliment, Wang, but I have to admit—I’m not quite that close to President Good.”

After walking around the model train, Bartier Good and the skinny young boy approached Wang Bo. Bartier introduced himself, “Mr. Wang, hello. I’m Bartier Good, and this is my son, Bartierson ‘AJ’ Good.”

Wang Bo hadn’t expected this wealthy mogul to approach him directly. He politely nodded and first shook hands with the boy, smiling as he said, “Hello, young man. Do you like trains?”

The boy was very thin, looking to be in his early teens, and especially lanky. His facial features resembled his father’s, but he was more delicate-looking. However, he appeared drained and lifeless, his eyes dull like a tired little puppy.

Speaking of puppies, Wang Bo glanced toward Zhuang Ding.

The Mastiff was rolling around happily on the carpet, wagging its tail furiously. After a bit, it switched up its play—front legs flat on the ground, pushing itself forward with its hind legs like it was gliding.

Several of the tycoons were clearly amused by the dog and burst out laughing.

Zhuang Ding, being the little show-off he was, got even more energetic with all the attention.

Damn show-off! Wang Bo was so annoyed he could feel it in his chest.

Bartier’s reason for approaching Wang Bo was to ask permission—he wanted to take his son for a stroll through the castle. The boy really liked this kind of medieval architecture.

And honestly, who wouldn’t? With its majestic grandeur, few men could resist the charm of a place like Sir Castle.

Every white boy dreams of being a feudal lord as a child, and in those dreams, they always have a castle like this.

Wang Bo had no reason to refuse. Showing off a bit, he called out to the Commander and asked him to be the tour guide for the father and son.

Dinner was held on a long banquet table inside the castle. Including Adams, there were fifteen tycoons present. As the host, Wang Bo sat at the eastern end of the table.

Traditionally, the western end would be reserved for the lady of the house—but since there was no such lady yet, Adams filled in as the vice-host.

To Wang Bo’s right, in the most honorable position at the center, sat Bartier Good. Seating etiquette dictated that the right side and the center positions were the most prestigious, making Bartier’s spot the seat of highest honor.

After they were seated, a series of exquisite appetizers were served. Down the center of the table was a floral arrangement woven from fresh flowers and willow branches, with several bamboo baskets neatly placed within, used for holding baked bread.

Adams was a master of atmosphere. He found a light topic to kick things off, gradually deepening the conversation. Wang Bo mainly listened from the sidelines, but the mood at the table was warm and relaxed.

Bartier didn’t speak much—not because he was aloof or indifferent, but because he was worried about his son.

Earlier that evening, after touring the castle, the young Bartier went to his room to rest, while the father stayed behind to chat with Wang Bo.

During the conversation, Bartier revealed that his son suffered from a rare condition: Panic Sleep Disorder. It involved difficulty falling asleep, frequent nightmares, and being easily startled awake.

Wang Bo wasn’t familiar with this disorder, but he figured that within his own castle—given its special properties—the boy might be able to sleep. After all, sleep is essential for all creatures, and it was no wonder the boy always looked exhausted.

Before dinner, the boy had some milk and a few pieces of fruit before heading off to bed. Sleep disorders and anorexia were often two sides of the same coin—together, they could break even the strongest adult, let alone a child.

Wang Bo guessed that the boy had likely been kept going this long thanks to plenty of precious supplements.

Knowing this, he finally understood why Bartier hadn’t left with the others—the boy simply couldn’t handle the strain of long-distance travel all in one day.

This trip was also a way for Bartier to help his son relax and hopefully improve his mental state.

After the appetizers, the soup course arrived. Wang Bo had ordered a clam and seafood chowder, which paired deliciously with the fresh bread.

Next came the main course, which, unsurprisingly, included steak. But Wang Bo barely touched it. Having grown accustomed to the premium beef and lamb from his own ranch, ordinary steak just didn’t excite him anymore.

The bank president, on the other hand, wasn’t picky. Even while worrying about his son, he ate heartily—he even asked for a second serving of steak. Clearly, his appetite outdid Wang Bo’s.

After dinner, Bartier immediately returned to the room arranged by Charlie to accompany his son. Adams and the other tycoons stayed behind in the drawing room, chatting with the mountain breeze flowing through.

Wang Bo continued to play the role of listener. Since he wasn’t familiar with these people, the less he said, the fewer mistakes he’d make—and silence often left a better impression.

Many people know how to talk. Few know how to listen.

Wang Bo’s goal in mingling with the wealthy was simple—get his face recognized. As long as people remembered him, that was good enough. Gaining acceptance in their circle? That would be much harder. He might be worth over a hundred million, but wasn’t every one of them?

Blending into the elite wasn’t easy, but if he succeeded, the rewards would be tremendous.

At around 10 PM, as per Charlie’s arrangements, the tycoons retired to their rooms for the night.

Though the rooms weren’t yet furnished, thanks to the Castle’s Heart, the environment was clean and the air fresh—conditions good enough that most of the guests could accept it.

At dawn the next morning, Wang Bo was already up. Since Christie’s chefs were occupying his main kitchen, he couldn’t make breakfast, so he stayed near the entrance playing with Zhuang Ding and the Commander.

After a while, a figure came to stand beside him. Wang Bo looked up—and was startled to find the domineering CEO, Bartier, gazing intently at him.

Wang Bo shivered under the weight of that gaze. Why did it feel… affectionate? Was there some hidden chemistry going on here? Could it be that his unparalleled good looks and exotic Eastern charm had captivated the overbearing CEO?

His shiver led to a misunderstanding. Bartier smiled and said, “Mayor Wang, don’t be nervous. I just wanted to thank you—for your hospitality and for letting us stay in your castle.”