HLM – Chapter 842 The City of Charm

Although Wang Bo had been to Wellington a few times before, this visit felt entirely different—because this time, he had Hani, an experienced local driver, leading the way. Hani had a deep understanding of Wellington’s history.

According to Māori legend, the explorer Kupe was the first to discover Wellington Harbour. The city’s Māori name, Te Whanganui-a-Tara, means “The Great Harbour of Tara,” named after the son of Whatonga, a chieftain who lived on the shores of Hawke’s Bay.

The chief had sent his son Tara and his half-brother to explore the southern region of the North Island. A year later, they returned and reported that it was a fertile and prosperous land. Whatonga’s people then migrated there and established the famous Ngāti Tara tribe.

Not long after Colonel William Wakefield arrived and purchased land from the Māori, the first group of European settlers arrived aboard the Aurora, a ship of the New Zealand Company, landing on January 22, 1840.

However, because the New Zealand Company had conducted the purchase hastily and illegally, the Māori denied ever having sold the land. This led to a period of land disputes and conflicts.

Still, this was an area with excellent transportation connections. Even though flat land was scarce, the population grew rapidly. In just ten years, by 1850, Wellington already had 5,500 people and had become a thriving settlement of the time.

From 1852 onward, Wellington began expanding through land reclamation. In 1855, a major earthquake uplifted many parts of the city.

Ten years later, the New Zealand government moved the capital from Auckland to Wellington. By the 20th century, the port grew increasingly prosperous, and manufacturers, commercial associations, and banks sprang up around it. Other industries followed, and the city began expanding outward.

“All the way to Hutt Valley, Porirua, and the Kapiti Coast—Wellington had developed to this scale very early in the last century. That’s definitely an achievement worthy of admiration,” Hani said.

Wang Bo simply smiled without speaking, wearing an expression that practically screamed, naive, too simple.

Hani shot him a sideways glance. “Do you have any objections, Mr. Wang?”

Wang Bo grinned. “Mr. Wang has no objection, but my ancestors might. Wellington’s size in the last century—back home, that would barely count as a county seat.”

Hani spread his hands. “Comparing military strength with the U.S. and comparing history with China—that’s pure hooligan behavior.”

For lunch, they went to NC Café, a rather elegant restaurant. Hani praised it endlessly, saying it always served simple yet unforgettable dishes.

Wang Bo originally wanted to stroll through the city’s food markets—the harbor market Charles once took him to, as well as the farmers’ market and city market.

But since Hani recommended a restaurant, he decided he might as well give it a try.

The place had a refined atmosphere. The private dining booths were compact but Zen-like, decorated with images of Zen Buddhism and Tibetan Buddhism, along with small statues on the tables.

Wang Bo, however, was confused. What kind of mix-and-match is blending Buddhism and Tibetan Buddhism together?

The signature dishes included egg–spring onion bean rice, sage scrambled eggs, Tibetan-style fried tofu, pickled vegetables, gravy-roasted fish, seafood hotpot, and more.

They also served an aperitif—not the usual New Zealand red wine, but sweet potato liquor. Wang Bo had heard of it back home but had never tried it. This was a chance.

Na Qingyang’s hometown also had this kind of liquor. “We call it digua shao. You’ve seen the drama Drawing Sword, right? What Li Yunlong drinks is this stuff. I can even make it.”

Wang Bo’s eyes lit up. “You know how to make digua shao? With that chubby face of yours, I didn’t expect you to have this skill.”

Na Qingyang looked helpless. “What’s so hard about it? As long as you have sweet potatoes and a big iron pot—and some basic tools—it’s easy to brew.”

Wang Bo slapped the table. “Then we’re doing it when we get back. I planted a whole batch of sweet potatoes in my vegetable field. Harvested them in the first half of the year and stored them in the cellar.”

Seeing Wang Bo getting serious, Na Qingyang quickly added, “Just saying in advance, I can definitely make it, but the taste… might not be as good as what we’re drinking here.”

The sweet potato liquor was served in clear bottles. In New Zealand, they seemed to have added something to it—the color was pale red, almost like wine.

But that was obviously added later. Even if Wang Bo hadn’t eaten pork, he’d seen pigs run—grain liquor is made through alcohol evaporation and shouldn’t have noticeable color.

Still, New Zealand’s strict food safety standards meant he didn’t need to worry about strange additives. It was quite safe to drink.

The alcohol content was relatively low. The restaurant classified it as a strong beverage—meaning it could be treated like a drink. But of course, drinking it meant no driving.

Wang Bo took a sip. Soft, sweet, with the distinctive sting of alcohol—not bad at all.

Drinking sweet potato liquor along with gravy-roasted fish and various seafood, the three men got increasingly hyped. By the end, they had downed nearly two kilos of the stuff.

Wang Bo had little recollection of what happened afterward. When he scratched his head and woke up, the sun outside was already setting…

“What happened? Why is it getting dark? Is a tropical cyclone coming again?” Wang Bo exclaimed.

Eva, who was reading, looked up and gave him a charming yet annoyed eye-roll. “If a tropical cyclone really did come, I’d throw you outside and let the wind take you away! You three were completely un-gentlemanly. After lunch, all of you men collapsed. I had to call people to carry you back!”

Sweet potato liquor was still alcohol—it worked fine as a drink, but “strong” was the key word.

The three of them felt fine while drinking, but once the aftereffects hit, they all toppled over.

Wang Bo had the best physical condition, so he woke up first. The other two—Na Qingyang and Hani—were still snoring away.

“Great, now Hani won’t have time to shop.” Wang Bo snickered with sympathy.

But the good thing about this liquor was that you didn’t feel terrible afterward. When Hani and Na Qingyang finally woke up, they could go out for dinner.

Hearing “dinner,” Na Qingyang waved his hands weakly. “No… no dinner, I haven’t digested lunch yet. Damn, my stomach’s acting up. Where’s the bathroom?”

Hani decided to explore Wellington’s night market instead. After all, this was the capital, and summer nights here had their own charm.

Wellingtonians loved the late night. When most people were getting ready for a cup of hot chocolate before bed, crowds would often surge toward the city center.

As Wang Bo and the others stepped onto the street, a wave of lively noise swept over them.

Music played everywhere. On their street alone, every few steps there was a small bar. Through the glass walls, they could see all kinds of cocktails, wines, and craft beers inside.