HLM – Chapter 46 The Heart of the Pasture

So, Charlie came over and hugged him comfortingly. “Don’t be like this, brother. Actually, this is a great opportunity. You need money, don’t you? The old Duke even left you a more important territory. To develop it, you need money. So, why not sell the Bay Psalm Book?”

Adams agreed, saying, “I understand how you feel, Wang, but clearly you need money for more important matters. Selling the Psalm Book is the best option for now.”

“When your territory is developed in the future, you can always buy back what you sold,” added Auction Director Gregor.

After showing enough hesitation and inner struggle, Old Wang reluctantly handed the Bay Psalm Book to Gregor, then covered his face and collapsed onto the table—afraid he might burst into laughter from sheer excitement.

Gregor, accompanied by two experts, began a meticulous examination. They spent a full two hours on it, studying not only the paper, handwriting, and ink, but even inspecting each individual page.

Finally, Gregor nodded at Adams. Adams approached him, and after a brief, hushed exchange, his expression turned serious.

Wang Bo’s heart was in his throat. Don’t suddenly tell him it’s a fake—he couldn’t take such a blow.

The first edition of the Bay Psalm Book was only issued in 1,700 copies. But over time, many imitations surfaced—not to deceive for profit, but due to high demand. Devout followers printed copies themselves.

It was precisely because of this widespread duplication that many of the originals were lost. Otherwise, with most of the 1,700 copies stored in major libraries, hundreds should have been preserved.

Today, only 11 original copies are known to remain, most kept in institutions like the New York Library of Congress and Harvard University Library. Two are at Boston’s Old South Church, and one each at the U.S. Library of Congress, Yale, and Brown University.

After speaking with Gregor, Adams shook Wang Bo’s hand firmly and said with emphasis, “Congratulations, Wang. You are holding the twelfth copy of the Bay Psalm Book. As far as we know, this is the first time since 1947 that another original copy has surfaced. Truly, God bless!”

Wang Bo pursed his lips and replied, “Thanks for the congratulations. But I already knew this was an original. My godfather’s family were devout Christians and old aristocrats. Their collection must include an original first edition. I’m confident in that.”

Charlie, standing nearby, couldn’t help but sigh. The old Duke had been too stubborn and closed-minded. If he had just used the internet or paid more attention to the outside world, his finances wouldn’t have been so dire in his later years.

But then again, thinking of the Duke’s stubborn pride—refusing to sell the red box even when resorting to loan sharks—Charlie figured that even if the Duke knew he had the Psalm Book, he might not have sold it anyway.

The conversation shifted to praising the Roberts family, and finally Adams got to the main point. “Wang, my friend, may I ask what you plan to do with this Psalm Book?”

He had many thoughts, but kept his cool. “My mind is in a mess right now. I haven’t really decided. What about you?”

Adams offered, “I have two suggestions. One, you sell the book to us—we’re willing to pay double the starting auction price. Two, you can entrust it to us for auction. In a month, our group will host a spring auction in New York. It’s a great opportunity.”

Wang Bo declined the first offer. Adams was offering double the starting bid. The last time the book appeared at auction, the starting price was $6 million, and it ultimately sold for $14.16 million.

So even if Adams offered $12 million, Wang Bo felt he would be taking too much of a loss.

The second suggestion was much better. He wasn’t in urgent need of money, and he had some cash on hand. A partnership made more sense.

But given the high stakes—nearly 20 million NZD worth of value—such a partnership required a lawyer present.

Wang Bo’s most trusted lawyer was Mueller, but he obviously couldn’t arrive in time. So they held a video conference, and Mueller joined via webcam.

The final decision: he entrusted the Bay Psalm Book to Christie’s for the New York spring auction, on the condition that the final price must exceed $12 million. If not, Wang Bo would withdraw the consignment and only pay Christie’s a $50,000 NZD publicity fee.

If the book did sell for more than $12 million, Christie’s would charge a 7.6% commission—down from the usual 9.8%. Mueller, using his silver tongue, negotiated a 2.2-point reduction from Adams.

Christie’s needed this auction win because their biggest rival, Sotheby’s, had just sold a copy of the same book. They needed to strike back.

In the presence of all parties, the book was stored in Christie’s New Zealand region’s vault located in the ANZ Bank headquarters. From that moment, Wang Bo didn’t need to worry. If anything happened to the book, Christie’s would compensate him with $14.17 million.

Adams hosted lunch, and the group enjoyed a grand feast at the Green Olive Hotel.

During the meal, Adams and Gregor shared insider knowledge and unspoken rules of the auction world with Wang Bo. They took special interest in him, as he shamelessly hinted that his godfather had left him other valuable items.

For such claims, Adams preferred to err on the side of caution—better to believe than miss out. So before parting ways, they exchanged every possible form of contact, reluctantly bidding farewell.

After lunch, the helicopter roared off in the direction of Sunset Town.

Wang Bo hadn’t expected such great rewards from this trip to Wellington. If all went smoothly, he’d be a multimillionaire in just one month!

The sudden transformation into a rich man had him in high spirits. Upon returning to Sunset Town, he personally cooked a few good dishes to celebrate. But Charlie and the cowboys had strong drinking abilities. Before long, Old Wang was drunk and passed out under the table.

Lying half-asleep in bed, Old Wang habitually opened the sandbox. When he noticed that the draw disk had turned light green, he selected it. The disk spun, the pointer stopped on “Territory Heart,” and a structure called the “Heart of the Pasture” appeared.

He was already in a daze at that point, and after catching a glimpse of it, his brain completely shut down, and he fell asleep.

The next morning, he woke up refreshed, stretched lazily, and then remembered what he had drawn the night before—the Heart of the Pasture.

Startled, he quickly opened the sandbox. Thankfully, it hadn’t disappeared. A palm-sized patch of grassland floated above the sandbox, with neatly growing grass that swayed gently in the breeze.

Without a doubt, this was the Heart of the Pasture. It resembled a beautifully groomed miniature meadow, exceptionally pleasing to the eye.

After a moment of thought, Old Wang chose to install the Heart of the Pasture on a stretch of grassland in the southern part of his territory.