HLM – Chapter 858 Heart of the Lakeside

Back in Sunset Town, Wang Bo had to prepare for Kaplan and the other executives’ arrival.

Needless to say, they would stay in the castle, which was simple—after all, the castle had plenty of empty rooms.

Tropical cyclones weren’t all bad. For the castle, they had driven away the bat colonies that used to give Wang Bo headaches—the wind had blown them away.

The wood pigeons, however, stayed. That was thanks to their skill in building nests: the nests were well-ventilated and sturdy, so even strong winds couldn’t destroy them.

As for the blue ducks and ospreys on the lake, they were living even better. The blue ducks’ nests were on a small flat-bottomed boat, with the underside covered in high-buoyancy plastic balls.

This made the boat a kind of water weeble: during heavy rains, the blue ducks could stay in their nests without worrying about wind or rain.

December was getting hot. On weekends, Wang Bo wasn’t in the mood to go out, so he headed to the lakeside, sitting under a sunshade and drinking a cold beverage.

The lake’s scenery was even more beautiful than the ocean. At sea, there was nothing but waves; on the lake, waterfowl soared in patterns above the water, mountains rose nearby, reeds swayed around, and small boats drifted across the lake. It was picturesque!

Many young people were taking photos. The crane couple had hatched a pair of chicks, which had just learned to fly and often skimmed the lake’s surface.

Because their stamina and flying skills were still unpracticed, the young cranes would occasionally fall into the lake in a clumsy manner.

To the New Zealanders, both the adult and young cranes were birds they had never seen before. Even in the cranes’ native China and Japan, few people had seen such protected large birds.

After National Geographic reported on Sunset Town, tourism increased. Many people started following the town’s Twitter and Facebook pages, especially foreign followers.

Leaning back in a lounge chair, Wang Bo scrolled through visitors’ comments. At that moment, someone approached and asked, “Hi, Mayor, what’s it like living in the clouds?”

The voice was pleasant. Wang Bo looked up and saw a stunning woman with long, slender legs, a toned waist, and a full chest. Her sun-kissed skin glowed, and she smiled at him.

He glanced toward the castle. The weather was perfect, sunlight bathed the area, and white clouds drifted around the mountainside, partially obscuring the castle.

“Are you interested in it? If so, you can visit—it’s a very hospitable castle,” Wang Bo said with a smile.

The woman smiled back, sweetly, and asked in delight, “Really?”

Wang Bo thought that if he nodded now, he could probably get lucky. A woman willing to follow you to see a bedroom was basically opening her heart.

But he had no such intentions. Eva had adopted a “better loose than strict” approach, not restricting Wang Bo’s interactions with women, but every night she made sure he was thoroughly drained, so he had no real interest.

Not far away, Bowen was building a castle out of mud and sand with a few children. Wang Bo called him over, introducing him to the woman.

He then realized that the deputy mayor was in for a fun weekend.

In the evening, the sand tray could be used again. Its color was pale green—it was a first-grade Lord’s Heart.

Wang Bo pressed the button, and a Territory Heart appeared. He shook his head; the frequency of Territory Hearts was too high, and it had been a long time since a Mysterious Heart or Wealth Heart had appeared.

The pointer stopped, revealing a pale green plot of land with growing water plants, along with the words Heart of the Lakeside.

Not bad, Wang Bo thought, smiling. He placed the Heart of the Lakeside on the sand tray, positioning it at the lakeshore.

The Heart of the Lakeside had a considerable influence—the entire southern lakeside of Lake Haweya turned pale green. Wang Bo estimated the affected area to be about four to five kilometers long.

On Sunday, he planned to check out the lakeshore and see what benefits the Heart of the Lakeside might bring.

But shortly after breakfast, Qingyang returned with some iron pots, large wooden barrels, and similar items.

Wang Bo was puzzled. “What’s this for? Is it warehouse trading day?”

Qingyang shook his head. “No, last time you mentioned making sweet potato wine. Brewing requires tools, and these are the tools I finally managed to order online.”

Wang Bo suddenly remembered. At a party in Wellington celebrating the Green Party and Labour Party alliance, he had casually mentioned it at a bar. Qingyang had taken it seriously.

Actually, Wang Bo wasn’t very interested in drinking, but since the tools were ready, it had to be done.

He was lazy, though, so he called Hani and Atulu, saying he was going to brew wine. Both arrived quickly.

Hani enthusiastically asked, “What are we brewing this time? Beer? I’m an expert in this, head’s honor—let me show you how it’s done!”

Wang Bo chuckled. “No, you’re wrong.”

Hani tried again: “Then wine? No problem—I’m still an expert…”

“Sweet potato wine.”

Hani’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see! Are we using the A-family’s traditional method? Honestly, I’m not very familiar with that.”

Atulu’s arrival was helpful. The Maori also brewed sweet potato wine. In fact, the wine at the bar had been made using Maori methods.

Wang Bo asked, “Why is it red?”

Atulu replied, “Originally, blood was added. Sweet potato wine was a celebratory drink for many tribes. After a big battle, they’d drink it with the enemy’s fresh blood added.”

Wang Bo felt a little nauseous. Luckily, Atulu continued: “In modern times, after the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi, this custom was abolished, since most of the blood used had been from white people anyway.”

Hani chuckled awkwardly: “Good thing it was abolished—otherwise you’d be making me donate blood, right?”

Modern Maori sweet potato wine could be made traditional-style using stag blood, for hygiene they used edible red dye, or for flavor, grape or cherry juice—all of which gave it a red color.

Wang Bo felt reassured. The sweet potato wine he had drunk that day, which had a fruity flavor, must have been made with red fruit juice.

The Maori man rubbed his hands in anticipation, excited to brew wine. “It’s been a long time since I drank wine I brewed myself… since I got involved with the underworld…”

“You were in the underworld?” Qingyang asked Atulu in surprise.

Atulu frowned. “What’s that look? Don’t I look like I’ve been in the underworld? I was the strongest man in Sunset Town!”

“Now it’s Dayan, and his son’s even stronger!”

Atulu pondered and grew a little melancholy. “Right… why are Serbians so strong? Didn’t they have years of war and starvation?”