HLM – Chapter 149 No Compromise

New Zealand prohibits the introduction of species not cleared by customs, and the customs inspections are very strict.

So, when cowboys and others noticed that the ranch had many strangely bred chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep, they didn’t connect them with foreign breeds, simply assuming they were wild animals.

Wang Bo used this reasoning to brush Sharp off, feigning confusion: “Really? These are our country’s goats? I’m not sure. You know, sir, my ranch is near the Southern Alps. Wild animals often wander down. Are you sure they’re not just some kind of mountain goat?”

Bowen chimed in, “Right, these are probably some kind of wild goats. Look at those sika deer and red deer—they came down from the mountains too.”

Hearing this, Sharp glanced at the vast mountain range in the distance, and his tone softened:  “Maybe? But these goats really resemble the Yimeng black goats I’ve seen. Still, I might be mistaken—I’ve only seen them once or twice.”

The conversation ended there once the livestock were slaughtered. Bowen called in the Beebe brothers to help drag the animals to the lake. After slaughtering, the offal and blood went into the water, left to nature’s cleanup.

The cowboys were busy with butcher knives, while the old businessman came over to watch. He had brought two middle-aged men with him, and the three began discussing the fresh meat.

“The sheen of the cowhide and sheepskin is excellent. This sheepskin is also very elastic. It’s a good sheep, clearly healthy.”

“Cut open the front shank—okay, Boss, see the marbling? Clean and elegant. The color of the meat is great, definitely grade-A appearance.”

“Good blood scent, almost no gaminess. Look at this beef—while not quite wagyu level, it’s close enough. Grade-A is absolutely justified.”

They continued discussing as they skillfully began butchering the meat themselves.

Wang Bo noticed that the two men the old businessman brought along resembled surgeons. They carried sharp dissection knives and handled the butchering with surgical precision. Whenever Sharp wanted to inspect a particular cut, they’d take it out right away.

After nearly an hour, Sharp washed his hands by the lake, stood up, and said with satisfaction:  “Wang, I think we can discuss pricing and cooperation now.”

Wang Bo shrugged: “Cooperation? Aren’t you just buying my cattle and sheep? As for the price, I told you on the phone—fifteen per pound for whole sheep, twenty per pound for whole beef.”

This price was quite high, especially for cattle. A Simmental cow can weigh about a thousand kilograms, roughly two thousand pounds, meaning one cow could be worth 40,000 yuan. By New Zealand’s standards, this was an outrageous price.

But as Charlie and Bartier had said, this meat was for the wealthy—not for the general market.  For rich people, what matters is quality and health, not price.

As the movie Big Shot’s Funeral put it: if someone’s already willing to spend fifty bucks on a steak, what’s another fifty to make it a hundred?

Sharp was a seasoned negotiator—his business empire was built on his smooth tongue. But with Wang Bo, it didn’t work. Wang Bo was stubborn. Once he named a price, it didn’t change—no matter what you said.

He also wasn’t afraid of Sharp backing out. If someone with Sharp’s discerning eye saw value in his ranch products, then others would too.

Even if major distributors weren’t interested, he had his own supermarket to sell through. Worst case, he’d sell bit by bit to the local town’s residents.

Thus, neither side would budge, and negotiations hit a deadlock. They had no choice but to go back for now.

The butchered meat was brought back to the castle. Since it had been stabbed and hacked all over, Wang Bo used it to feed Zhuang Ding. That guy wasn’t picky anyway.

He also freshly slaughtered another sheep for dinner. As usual, he served up grilled lamb chops, lamb soup, and a lamb spine hotpot. Not the prettiest dishes—but perfect to showcase the lamb’s premium quality.

Seeing Bartier again, Sharp became even more enthusiastic. He affectionately patted little Bartier’s head. The boy smiled politely and then ran off.

Kobe was busy in the kitchen. Bowen, Charlie, Bartier, and Sharp were sitting in the inner courtyard. It was near evening. The sun had lost its sting, making it perfectly warm.

Sipping coffee, Sharp looked around the Castle with interest. “Wang, have you ever thought of starting a vineyard or something like that? I saw a lot of unused land outside. Don’t you think it’s a waste?”

Wang Bo shrugged: “Of course I want to use the land. But there’s no rush, right? I’ll build something when the time is right.”

He was waiting to draw the Heart of Territory. Since he had money anyway, he’d develop whichever industry the heart indicated.

That’d be better than haphazard planning and construction.

The conversation shifted to New Zealand’s agriculture and livestock industries. Sharp was an expert in these matters, and Wang Bo mostly listened quietly.

In recent years, the global economy had been struggling. The financial crisis started in Europe, spread through the Americas, and began affecting Asia. Oceania was also feeling the pressure.

New Zealand, being a major agricultural country, wasn’t hit too hard. Agriculture was a foundation of nations. But as a country dependent on the service sector—like tourism—New Zealand was feeling the pinch.

As the sun set and night fell, Kobe finished cooking and the group sat down for dinner.

Opening the lamb spine and lamb soup pots, a rich meaty aroma filled the air. Sharp took a deep breath with his eyes closed and nodded: “That’s the wonderful scent—this really is top-tier lamb.”

Bartier laughed: “So, old friend, you’d better seize this opportunity. If Wang partners with someone else, I bet you’ll regret it.”

Sharp still wasn’t satisfied with Wang Bo’s pricing. He chuckled and dodged the question, not agreeing to the offer.

But he thoroughly enjoyed dinner. An old foodie, he was even more of an eater than Bartier, gorging on the juicy lamb until his mouth was glistening with oil.

That night, Wang Bo usually would fall asleep as soon as he lay down, but not tonight. Instead, he lay awake, thinking about the ranch’s development plans and pricing. Judging from Sharp’s reaction, maybe the pricing was a bit high.

While mulling it over, he logged into QQ. It was afternoon in China—warm weather, early spring.  His classmates and friends were chatting enthusiastically in the group. As soon as he came online, a flood of message windows popped up.

Among them was the beautiful Chen Luoxian, whom he’d met at a class reunion. She had sent several messages—but he had yet to reply.