HLM – Chapter 719 Days of Galloping Wildly

Wang Bo had accompanied them for a full day, but the next day he didn’t go along. After all, he was the town mayor; it was enough to show hospitality—he didn’t need to be responsible for the entire tour, or else it would make him seem too idle.

Internally, he handed the task of entertaining the tourists to Qingyang and Malop. In reality, those two didn’t have much to do anyway. Chen Luoxian was capable and, with four assistants, managed the entire tour group efficiently.

That morning, the tourists first visited the Māori village in town. Lunch was once again a lavish spread—authentic Hangi, pure and traditional.

This was undoubtedly a novelty for the tourists. Wang Bo noticed that all morning, few people appeared in town; most were probably helping in the village prepare the Hangi or enjoying Māori songs and dances.

Interestingly, many Māori came into town, heading straight to the bars in broad daylight.

Wang Bo stopped one and asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be in your village hosting the tourists?”

The big man waved him off casually. “My wife is taking care of that. I’m going to drink. The tourists are really rich—they bought some of our handmade crafts. Now I have money too.”

For most Māori without higher education, money directly translated to food and drink.

Wang Bo realized: the Māori didn’t have formal jobs, and in their spare time, they made all sorts of crafts at home—they were the pioneers of DIY in New Zealand.

These little items weren’t popular before. Many local tourists had passed through town but never bought them; New Zealand tourists usually wouldn’t spend on them.

Domestic tourists were different: buying souvenirs was part of the travel experience. The Māori priced them reasonably, and both sides benefited happily.

This was tourism-driven GDP: tourists spent on locals, and locals recirculated money in town. Where did the money ultimately go? Into the pockets of the town’s merchants. And in Sunset Town, the biggest capitalist was Wang Bo himself.

Seeing the success of the Māori crafts, Wang Bo realized that relocating the old cowboy Mackson’s tack shop to town was urgent. With the appeal of those handmade items, tourists would definitely flock to it.

He approached Peterson and said, “Get Mackson to relocate as soon as possible. I can’t wait to see a traditional handcrafted tack shop in town.”

Peterson was genuinely happy to see his old friend valued by the mayor. He slapped his chest and said, “We’ll move it today! I’ll go find him.”

Wang Bo thought for a moment. “Then I’ll go help too; I don’t have much else to do today.”

Hani, lying on the office desk, pouted. “Skipping work again, Mayor?”

Wang Bo gave him a glare. “The mayor is doing proper work—setting up a new store for the town to increase your tax revenue.”

Hani grinned. “The town’s tax revenue is doing well. In the past two days, more shops have opened here.”

“What kind of shops?” Wang Bo hadn’t noticed.

“A beauty and hair salon—very famous. Called ‘Sword & Magic.’”

Wang Bo raised an eyebrow at the name. “Keep a close eye on them, inspector. I’m giving an order here: if these guys dare evade taxes, deal with them!”

“Why the grudge?”

Wang Bo recalled the horror of a past haircut incident—only Eva had seen his inner beauty; otherwise, at the height of his pursuit of Eva, that dreadful haircut might have made her reject him. No explanation needed.

He prepared to drive to Oak City, but then saw Peterson riding a horse. Surprised, he asked, “You planning to wear your old horse out?”

Sunset Town was forty kilometers from Oak City. For an old horse, it wouldn’t be easy to cover that distance.

Peterson laughed, patting the horse’s neck confidently. “If we’re talking speed and explosiveness, my old friend isn’t great anymore. But endurance? Today, my old buddy is going to teach you a lesson.”

“Never underestimate the heart of an old horse longing for the wind!”

Wang Bo mounted “Tuhao Jin.” The two rode toward Oak City—also a strategy to entice Mackson.

At first, Tuhao Jin didn’t understand what was happening and trotted slowly. But once they were a distance from town, he realized they were going on a long journey.

Excitement surged!

Tuhao Jin galloped like a whirlwind, golden mane streaming in the morning sun. If he weren’t so ugly, the scene could have gone viral online.

It was Wang Bo’s first long-distance horse ride. At first, it felt good: Tuhao Jin ran along the roadside, he lifted slightly off the saddle, straightened his back, eyes forward, feeling like a general leading an expedition.

Peterson sat leisurely on the old horse, taking slow sips from a metal flask, exuding the air of a true gentleman.

“Young man, inexperienced. Think you can gallop forty kilometers? Do you think your eggs are made of diamonds?”

Wang Bo soon understood the bitter truth. First, it wasn’t the sensitive parts—it was his legs struggling. This was standard horse-riding squatting!

He tried to sit, but Tuhao Jin was running wild; sitting caused harsh jolts. He had to stand again.

After repeated attempts, his legs went numb, while Tuhao Jin continued at full speed. Peterson had been left far behind. Tuhao Jin’s pace was too fast.

Wang Bo had no choice but to pull the reins and slow him down. With a snort, Tuhao Jin reduced his pace to a walk.

Wang Bo breathed a sigh of relief and patted his neck. “See? You’ve sweated enough. Slow down first; let’s warm up. You’ll be running later too.”

When Tuhao Jin finally started walking, Wang Bo noticed a problem: the saddle was rubbing painfully against his groin.

Seeing no cars on the road, he carefully loosened his belt and adjusted himself—it hurt!

“Damn it, my balls are crushed!” Wang Bo panicked. He couldn’t feel his precious parts!

Of course, it was a false alarm: the jolts and friction had simply made things tense.

He dared not move, dismounted, and sat by a Jacaranda tree, legs wide.

A Toyota Prado drove by. The window rolled down, and a man shouted angrily, “What the ****!”

In New Zealand, the steering wheel is on the right, so it was the driver speaking.

Wang Bo was furious. He was in this position out of necessity; he had even glanced earlier—inner thighs were red and swollen.

The off-road gallop, even for a skilled rider, was tough. He was a rookie.

Soon, a red Hyundai passed. Someone whistled: “Cool, buddy. Wanna have some roadside fun? I’m game.”

Wang Bo had to bend his legs—because the speaker was a man…