HLM – Chapter 720 The Old Rider Who Doesn’t Fall

Peterson’s hearty laughter continued all the way to Oak City. Wang Bo, like a young lady, switched to riding side-saddle, with both legs resting on one side of his luxurious golden horse.

This posture was uncomfortable, but there was no choice—his inner thighs really hurt.

“Stop laughing. Is this really that funny?”

Peterson chuckled: “Haha, it’s not really that funny. It’s just that I haven’t seen this riding posture in a long time. Back in my younger days, white girls all rode like this. I have to say, boss, you remind me of the wonderful days of youth.”

Wang Bo glared angrily.

The old cowboy shrugged: “Alright, alright, boss, I won’t laugh anymore. Actually, it’s kind of interesting. Don’t take it personally. This is your first long-distance ride—scenes like this are very common. It just shows your skin is still tender.”

As they entered Oak City, their riding drew attention from pedestrians.

Wang Bo had to endure the pain and return to a normal riding posture, and he nearly collapsed onto the saddle!

Seeing the curious glances from passersby, Peterson sighed: “Boss, Oak City has long lost its cowboy traditions. Take some photos; you’ll find them useful later.”

Wang Bo pulled out his phone and started snapping pictures. The old cowboy reached over to take photos of the pedestrians.

The pedestrians also took pictures of them. Wang Bo didn’t understand the reciprocal photography—was this some kind of New Zealand version of “You stand on the bridge watching the scenery, and someone watches you from the building. The bright moon decorates your window, and you decorate someone else’s dream”?

After a while, a police car drove up. The officer recognized Wang Bo and said: “Wang, what are you doing? Playing Mount & Blade?”

Wang Bo shrugged: “Don’t joke. I’m a law-abiding citizen. How could I be… killing anyone? Just riding a horse. Can this really alarm the police?”

The officer explained: “Someone complained that your horses might defecate on the road. You know, we’re traffic police—this is our responsibility.”

Before Wang Bo could reply, Peterson, annoyed, shouted: “Hey, officer, traffic police care about us riding horses? Come on, kid, I know you! I rode horses with your grandfather right on this road, and back then the police didn’t care about such things!”

The town was small, and everyone knew each other.

The officer knew Peterson as well. He said helplessly: “Sir, times have changed. Of course, you can ride horses, but I just wanted to remind you—don’t let your horses poop on the road, or you’ll be fined.”

Wang Bo said that was fine. Indeed, it was fine—because the luxurious golden horse had already done its business on Highway 8…

After parting with the police, they turned and arrived at Mackson’s “Old Man Tack Shop.”

Outside the shop was a simple fenced horse stall, and a chestnut old horse was already inside, slowly chewing a mix of soybeans and oats.

Peterson smiled at the old horse: “Good luck—this guy is here too. Boss, let me introduce an old friend. He’s a hearty fellow, and today we have an assistant.”

They tied up their horses and entered the shop. Two people were drinking at the counter.

The two had very different builds: one was strong and burly—Old Mackson—and the other, a small, thin old man, looked like a stick in comparison. But he was energetic, with eyes shining brightly.

As soon as Peterson opened the door, Mackson shouted: “Ha! Footsteps like a wild boar. Guess who’s here? I bet it’s the annoying Peterson!”

“Hmm, a duck-like shout. No need to guess—it must be Mackson, whom only pigs would like!” Peterson shot back.

The little old man laughed: “Alright, you two, can you give my ears a break? Every time we meet, you argue. Are you planning to join ‘Mr. Satchi’s Talk Show’? For heaven’s sake, let me have some peace.”

Mr. Satchi’s Talk Show was a niche local Oak City TV show, and these two were expert arguers.

Peterson introduced Wang Bo: “This old guy is Allen Marlon. You might not have heard of him, but if you spent ten years in Oak City, you’d know. He’s one of the greatest athletes in Oak City’s history.”

“Athlete? That’s perfect! I love sports. Mr. Marlon, nice to meet you.” Wang Bo extended his hand.

Marlon smiled warmly: “I know you—the eight-time Oak City Games champion, right? Don’t mind what these guys say. I’m not a great athlete; I just rode some fine horses—they were the true athletes!”

Hearing this, Wang Bo guessed: “So you’re a horse trainer? Or a jockey?”

“The latter,” Marlon said, then gestured to his open legs: “When I was eight, I walked a bit like you. But if you grit your teeth and persist, in at most half a month, you’ll notice a big difference.”

“Will I get used to the pain?”

“No. Your thighs will chafe. It’ll hurt so much you won’t sleep day or night!” Marlon said helplessly.

Peterson and Mackson laughed heartily. Mackson teased: “I remember clearly—it was second grade, right? For a while, this guy waddled like a duck.”

Marlon, good-natured, laughed as well, then extended his hand to Wang Bo: “Allen Marlon, an old rider left behind by the times.”

“Wang, an underqualified town mayor,” Wang Bo replied as they shook hands. Marlon’s large hand was rough but strong, with surprisingly toned muscles for his age.

Peterson patted the table: “Come on, Mackson. No need for nonsense. We’re here to help you move. Is everything packed?”

Mackson pretended not to hear, scratching his messy hair: “Hmm, damn… I had something to do, right? Oh, the horseshoes need some oak water!”

“An old guy who treats promises like crap. Allen, a friendly advice—seeing our nearly sixty years of friendship, I have to warn you: your friend list just got another master of words.” Peterson delivered a sharp jab.

Marlon frowned: “What’s going on?”

Peterson was about to explain when Mackson turned and shouted: “Alright, alright, stop teasing me, old buddy! You won’t be happy unless you torment me! Fine, I’m willing to move to Sunset Town. I’m not a master of words; cowboys never are, okay?”

Wang Bo was about to laugh when suddenly someone outside shouted: “God, whose horse is this? Why is it running around everywhere?”