HLM – Chapter 66 Christmas Eve

Time passed quickly, and Christmas Eve finally arrived.

As a Southern Hemisphere country, New Zealand was quite amusing in this regard. Christmas was originally a major holiday that existed in the heart of winter—howling winds, flying snow, and the desolation of nature made it a time for people to come together and celebrate. But in the Southern Hemisphere, the end of December was the height of summer. Forget snow—stand under the sun for a moment and sweat would pour like a silver river from the heavens. There wasn’t a shred of Christmas atmosphere!

Fortunately, Wang Bo had Charlie and Bowen with him. Three people, a dog, and a bird—at least that added some liveliness. If he were alone, it would truly be like a solitary figure by a shallow stream—utter desolation.

December 24th, Christmas Eve.

Wang Bo had never properly experienced Christmas before, so he had no idea about the customs, legends, or traditions. Not that he needed to—because they weren’t staying at the ranch but instead flew to a nearby town, where they would spend the night and join the Christmas celebrations the next morning.

New Zealanders were quite different from the Chinese—they were thorough hedonists. You could tell just from the way salaries were paid weekly. If it were paid monthly, a good chunk of the population would probably starve.

From a young age, Wang Bo’s textbooks had emphasized that the Chinese people were diligent and frugal. That couldn’t be more true. New Zealanders, by contrast, didn’t believe in saving. In fact, they didn’t even have the habit of spending their actual salary. Ever since credit cards became popular, they’d all turned into card slaves.

High-interest lending companies like Moi Nosebleed International Finance Ltd. were quite common in New Zealand, because the market was large and many people were hooked on consumer loans.

All of that was to say: New Zealand’s Christmas was incredibly lively and extravagant. People were more than willing to spend. The town was festooned with decorations. From the sky, the helicopter showed a sea of lights even before sunset.

The three days before Christmas were known as Shopping Days in New Zealand. Every supermarket and mall would launch aggressive sales campaigns. Slogans like “Clearance Sale!”, “The factory boss ran off with his mistress—everything must go to cover wages!” echoed through every street.

As the helicopter landed, a wave of heat hit Wang Bo in the face. He couldn’t help but exclaim, “This is the most… unconventional Christmas Eve I’ve ever seen!”

“Merry Christmas! I love you!” someone shouted at him. Smiles lit the faces of all the passersby.

Wang Bo smiled and waved back. “Merry Christmas to you too, comrade—but you’re a guy, so I can’t love you!”

Even though it was just a basic helicopter, Omarama was a small town, so some people still came up to take photos with it. The admiring looks made Wang Bo feel proud—just like when he was back home and saw someone drive a BMW.

A few children ran over. Wang Bo thought they wanted to take pictures with the helicopter, but instead they stuck Santa Claus stickers on it and then bolted away. One kid even walked over and peed in the shadow of the helicopter…

As they walked, Bowen asked, “Did we reserve a restaurant? Where are we eating?”

“Ask Charlie. He arranged it,” Wang Bo said.

Charlie shrugged. “Who needs reservations? No restaurant will be closed tonight.”

“You kidding me?” Bowen yelped. “No reservation on Christmas Eve? Are you sure we’ll find a seat?”

Wang Bo patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you won’t go hungry. Just follow Charlie.”

It was Wang Bo’s first time experiencing an authentic Christmas Eve, and he looked around curiously. Christmas trees lined both sides of the street, decked out with gift boxes, and some stores had arranged for Santa impersonators.

Wearing just a T-shirt, Wang Bo still felt hot. Yet these people wore red Santa suits, hats, and even fake beards. They were probably drenched in sweat.

As they walked, a police car drove up. Robert leaned out and grinned, “Wang, Merry Christmas! I envy you getting to celebrate it.”

“You’re still on duty?” Wang Bo asked.

“Of course! Let me count… I haven’t had Christmas dinner with my family in one-two-three-four-five-six-seven years,” Robert said, clearly displeased.

That was a cop’s duty—on Christmas Eve, all officers had to be on the job. But Wang Bo didn’t mind, since everyone in his jurisdiction was right there with him.

Robert gave a wave and drove off, and the group reached their destination—Spree’s Kitchen.

Looking at the brightly decorated restaurant, Wang Bo asked, “Kobe must be busy today, huh?”

Charlie laughed. “Nope. His place only serves twenty tables per night.”

A waiter came up to ask for their reservation number. Charlie said, “Just give them my name—Charlie Stallone—and bring us the best seat.”

The waiter clearly had prior instructions from Kobe. He smiled and led them to a spot by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

This spot was the best in the house because the broad windows had special effects—snowflakes drifted down, giving it the feel of a proper Northern Christmas.

Seeing this, Bowen was stunned and muttered, “Shit, that’s incredible.”

Charlie smirked, “Impressive, right? A cowboy couldn’t manage this, could he? So do me a favor and stop bragging in front of me.”

Bowen laughed and said to Wang Bo, “I really want to use my cowboy rifle to blow this bastard’s face off. Bet he’d look hilarious watching his own nose fly through the air.”

For some reason, Charlie and Bowen never seemed to get along.

A special night called for a special meal. The traditional Christmas dinner always included roast turkey, Christmas pudding, and baked ham, along with beer—an inheritance from the British, whose Christmas celebrations also centered on beer.

Chubby Kobe saw them and gave a signal. A moment later, he came over, hugged Wang Bo, and said, “Buddy, how’s our Christmas Eve? Fun enough?”

Wang Bo nodded. “It’s great. Very lively.”

Kobe hugged Bowen too. After learning he was a Texas cowboy, he nodded and said he’d serve him some authentic Texas roast ham later.

Finally, he embraced Charlie. The two old friends hugged enthusiastically.

Kobe said, “Shorty, my good buddy—what’s your Christmas wish this year? To get rich? To find love? Get promoted? Achieve overnight fame? Become the Chosen One? Eternal youth?!”

Charlie was just about to speak when Kobe waved his hands. “No no no, none of those will come true. I suggest you just enjoy my cooking, go home, take a hot shower, and sleep early. Don’t waste time on dreams.”

Bowen burst out laughing, whistled, and clapped hard. “Kobe, you’ve got style!”