HLM – Chapter 49 Another Twenty Vehicles

An hour later, Lister’s eyes widened as he exclaimed, “You’re here to borrow money from me?! Borrow money?!”

Old Wang lowered his head humbly and said, “Yes, yes, Mr. General Manager, I know it’s quite presumptuous, but I just want to borrow 500,000 yuan. I figured, with your wealth and generosity, lending out such a small amount shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Five hundred thousand? Lister rolled the number around in his mind, then a knowing smile appeared on his face. “Of course, no problem, no problem at all.”

Old Wang also broke into a bright smile—because he knew exactly what Lister thought he understood.

But what Lister, a seasoned business tycoon, didn’t realize was what this young man in front of him was really smiling about.

In the context of a project worth hundreds of millions, a “loan” of 500,000 was nothing. Lister took Wang Bo’s “borrowing money” as a veiled way of soliciting a bribe. Such things were rare in New Zealand, but he had encountered it before.

In fact, he had other gifts prepared. Just as Old Wang took the check and was about to leave, Lister gestured for him to sit down and asked, “Mr. Mayor, how did my car feel when you drove it?”

“Very comfortable, very cool, very prestigious. Thank you.” Old Wang didn’t hold back on the praise—it didn’t cost him anything, after all.

Lister gave him a dazzling smile. “Since you like it, how about I just give it to you as a gift?”

Hearing that, Old Wang’s expression turned a bit angry. He frowned and said, “Are you trying to bribe me?”

You damn actor, Lister scoffed inwardly, but the smile on his face only grew brighter. “No, no, of course not. I’m selling it to you—for just one hundred dollars. How about that?”

Old Wang looked hesitant. “Really? Wouldn’t you be losing a lot on that?”

Lister winked at him and laughed. “Not at all. Actually, I bought it for fifty dollars. Selling it to you for a hundred, I’m still making a profit.”

At that, Old Wang gave a thumbs up, then immediately took out his phone and called Mueller, who had been informed in advance to come over. “Buddy, hurry over.”

Lawyer Mueller entered the room and asked, “Mayor, what’s going on?”

“How much cash do you have on you?”

“About five hundred dollars.”

Wang Bo took the five hundred, added the fifteen hundred in his own wallet to make a total of two thousand, and respectfully handed it to Lister. “Mr. General Manager, for such cars—please give me another twenty!”

Lister: “……”

Old Wang left behind the two thousand dollars and a loan contract before walking off coolly. The contract bore both his and Mueller’s signatures: a loan of 500,000 for a term of one month. The two thousand? That was the interest.

Later, when the hotel staff came to clean the room, they found a pile of broken trash—shattered cups, smashed lamps, and the like.

With the money in hand, Wang Bo was ready to buy cattle and sheep.

New Zealand’s livestock product trading system was well-established and highly efficient. There were three main channels:

1. Auction markets – the mainstream method, especially for wool and live animals.
2. Direct sales – less common nowadays, only a small portion of livestock is traded this way.
3. Cooperative circulation – mainly for dairy cattle, as New Zealand’s dairy industry is dominated by four major companies, all jointly operated by local farmers through cooperatives.

Since Wang Bo wasn’t planning to buy a large number of livestock, he opted for the second method: direct purchase. It was more time-efficient and less labor-intensive, though the variety of animals he could see would be limited, and he couldn’t pick and choose too much.

He would have preferred to be more selective, but Omarama wasn’t a major agricultural city and had no livestock auction market. The nearest auction was in Cromwell, a place Old Wang wasn’t familiar with. So he could only gather information online about the local farms and make purchases locally.

As a livestock powerhouse, New Zealand had countless forums for local ranchers and farmers to communicate. Wang Bo had already looked up information on several major farms in Omarama. With the loan secured, he headed straight out.

The Land Cruiser had ample space, making the trip comfortable for three passengers. Old Wang brought along Zhuang Ding and the Commander, setting off in a joyful mood.

Bowen had told him that raising dogs this way wasn’t ideal. The dogs had grown too attached to him, and if they were ever separated, it would be hard for them to adjust.

Old Wang scoffed, “Adjust my ass.” Thanks to the Castle of Hearts, the two pups now actually preferred staying at the castle. The only reason he brought them along today was to win back their affection.

The car window was open, and Zhuang Ding stuck his head out, clearly enjoying the hot wind on his face. His eyes squinted and his mouth curled into a blissful smile.

As a Mastiff, Zhuang Ding had a huge tongue. With his mouth open, the wind made his tongue flap backward. Finding it amusing, he turned his head directly into the wind, mouth wide open, tongue flapping wildly in the breeze.

“Damn, this dumbass dog.” Watching Zhuang Ding entertain himself, Old Wang laughed and cursed affectionately. The way the dog opened its mouth to the wind made him look like some goofy kid playing with a hairdryer.

The town’s farms were all on the outskirts, mostly south and east of the city. To the north was Sunset Town’s territory, and further west lay Louis Town.

Once they left the city, the buildings quickly thinned out. Green pastures and lush groves became the dominant scenery.

The grasslands were mostly used for ranching. Scattered across them were herds of cattle and sheep, leisurely enjoying the grass and water—living more comfortably than people, it seemed.

The farm Wang Bo had contacted was called Alfalfa Blossom Ranch, run by a Māori man named Motak.

This man had a great reputation on the forums and was just as friendly in person as described online. He was already waiting for them in the scorching sun at the entrance to the ranch.

For some reason, Māori men were all big and burly, and Motak was no exception. His face was adorned with tattoos that made him look quite intimidating—but looks were deceiving.

“Welcome, welcome! You must be from the big ranch in Sunset Town?” Motak beamed as he spread his arms wide. “Friends from China, right?”

Wang Bo gave him a quick hug. Then Motak leaned in close, seemingly about to kiss him. Instinctively, Old Wang tried to dodge, but then realized the man was just going for a hongi—the traditional Māori nose greeting. Dodging would offend him and kill the deal.

Motak’s nose gently touched Wang Bo’s and quickly withdrew. It seemed the Māori man understood not everyone could accept their customs.

Wang Bo introduced Charlie and the others. Motak gave each of them a hongi in turn, then led them into the ranch.

Alfalfa Blossom Ranch covered about 600 acres—roughly two square kilometers. It might not sound huge, but once inside, it felt massive.