HLM – Chapter 187 The Road of Birth Flowers

When Wang Bo finished speaking, Hani and Charlie both widened their eyes in disbelief.

“Dude, are you serious? Planting flowers and trees out here? Honestly, that idea is crazy.”

Wang Bo responded with full confidence, “Why not? Isn’t it normal to plant something along the sides of a road? A bare highway looks ugly. But if we plant beautiful flowers and greenery, who knows—we might just turn it into a tourist attraction.”

New Zealand, in this regard, was quite different from China. Trees and plants were rarely seen lining the roads here. Of course, even in China, highways typically didn’t have trees flanking them either. But in New Zealand, all roads—big or small—tended to be barren on both sides, unless trees grew there naturally.

At first, Wang Bo had found this rather odd. Later, after doing some research online, he learned that tree roots could damage road foundations. That was why trees weren’t commonly planted along roads in New Zealand.

Also, New Zealanders valued natural beauty and usually didn’t go out of their way to artificially beautify an area with decorative trees and flowers.

But the most important reason? Planting greenery along roads cost money—and neither the national nor local governments were willing to spend taxpayer dollars on what they’d consider a frivolous luxury.

Wang Bo didn’t care. He had just received a $1.5 million earthquake relief grant with no immediate use for it—so why not use it to buy flowers and trees?

Hearing this, Hani still shook his head and said, “You make a fair point, Mayor, but you should also know—the presence of this spring could threaten the lifespan of the road. I think we should just seal it up.”

Wang Bo shrugged, “And what does the road’s lifespan have to do with me? Nothing. But if we can turn it into a scenic route, that does concern me.”

That came off a little crass—at least, that’s how Hani felt. Displeased, he said, “Mayor, that’s not right. You’re prioritizing your gain at others’ expense.”

Wang Bo sneered, “Charlie, why don’t you explain to our upright auditor here why I’m being ‘selfish’? Go ahead—tell him how the government’s been treating me.”

Charlie let out a dry laugh and explained the government’s intentions to Hani.

The auditor was a decent man, but he wasn’t naïve. Once he heard the full story, he exploded in rage.

“Those sons of bitches—those damn politicians! In that case, let’s just focus on living our own good life. Mayor, forget the road!”

In fact, Wang Bo had already exercised considerable restraint. The spring was still over 100 meters from the road. The stream ran downhill and was separated from the road by a fair distance—so the foundation wouldn’t be heavily impacted. As long as they maintained it properly, there shouldn’t be any issues.

He did understand the big picture—after all, Highway 8 was the backbone of the town.

Having people to delegate tasks to made things much easier. With a single order from Wang Bo, Juan went off to pick out flowers and tree species, while he himself brewed a pot of hot tea and waited in leisure.

Sitting in the main hall, teasing Commander, Queen, and Zhuang Ding (his pets), Wang Bo passed the day with a pot of tea and a chair—peaceful, cozy, and slow.

Of course, he wasn’t totally idle. He at least needed to plan the planting layout for the roadside flora.

Meanwhile, Bowen was sent to recruit some Māori workers. Planting flowers and trees was labor-intensive—too few people wouldn’t do. New Zealand had professional horticulturists, but they charged a lot. And since he had to spend money anyway, why not let his own people earn it?

Māori were quite good at short-term jobs, though they weren’t suited for full-time positions. They were too fond of leisure—once they got paid, they wanted to enjoy life, which easily delayed work.

In New Zealand, short-term labor mostly relied on two groups:

One was tourists—people on working holiday visas, valid for a year. It was popular among young travelers who worked to fund their travels.

The other group was Māori, who took on short gigs to earn some money, then partied until the cash ran out—rinse and repeat.

Wang Bo offered a deal: planting trees at NZD 10 per 100 meters—typically 4 trees per segment. Diligent workers could earn over a thousand dollars a day. As for the flowers and grasses, he could handle that himself.

Juan worked efficiently. The very next day, a landscaping company arrived in the town with truckloads of tree saplings and flower seeds—worth a total of NZD 250,000.

According to Wang Bo’s plan, the trees along the highway would mainly be magnolias, red maples, rhododendrons, and wintersweet. Magnolias bloom in spring, rhododendrons in summer, red maples look beautiful in autumn, and wintersweet blossoms in winter.

This way, Highway 8 would showcase seasonal beauty year-round—always something blooming for tourists to see.

However, after hearing his idea, the landscaping company made a suggestion: “Sir, why not plant jacarandas? When those blue blossoms sway in the wind, the scene is so stunning even angels would stop to look.”

Wang Bo had never heard of jacarandas, so he looked them up online.

Indeed, jacarandas were gorgeous when in bloom. Their blue flowers were popular in places like Australia—many university campuses there were lined with jacarandas. When they bloomed, even outsiders came just to admire the view.

What’s more, they had economic value too. Their timber was pale yellow to greyish, soft and lightweight, with a straight grain—ideal for making furniture.

Of course, they weren’t cheap. One sapling cost NZD 400. Wang Bo wanted to plant jacarandas along a 5-kilometer stretch—two every 100 meters. That would be 4,000 trees.

If he chose small saplings, they wouldn’t be so pricey—maybe just NZD 10 to 50 per plant.

But Wang Bo chose semi-grown ones. For instance, his jacarandas were already 1.5 meters tall, not the 6 cm baby saplings. Naturally, those were pricier.

Still, the higher cost came with benefits: better survival rates and faster growth. These trees could reach up to 15 meters tall. If grown from tiny saplings, it would take far too long.

Other trees were also at a similar height. Within a year or two, they’d bloom—yielding visible results quickly.

As for the flower seeds, things got more complicated. The Sunset Town stretch of Highway 8 was pretty long. Wang Bo allocated 20 kilometers for tree planting. The rest of the highway? He planned to plant nothing but flowers.

And what kinds of flowers? He picked 365 kinds. Yes, exactly 365.

His vision was to build a “Birth Flower Road”—one flower for each day of the year. One kilometer per flower, stretching over 30 kilometers!

The rest of the townsfolk had no idea what he was up to. When they saw the landscaping company unloading box after box of flower seeds, Hani, Charlie, Bowen, and others were shocked.

“How many kinds of flowers did you buy?” they asked.

Wang Bo shrugged. “365 kinds. One for every day of the year—each person’s birth flower included. What do you think?”

“Shit—you’ve completely lost it!”