HLM – Chapter 902 New Year’s Carnival

These little calves were less than a meter tall, with round, sturdy heads. Their coats were a mix of gray and white, giving them a distinctive look. Their shoulders were unusually high and bulging, almost as if they had large lumps growing on their backs.

If they were a bit bigger, Wang Bo could have easily identified them—they were humped cattle, Indian humped cattle, one of the world’s important beef breeds.

But they were too small. Calling them calves didn’t feel right either, because a regular calf couldn’t be this strong—each one was practically a bundle of muscle.

So, Wang Bo speculated and asked, “Are these… uh… dwarf humped cattle?”

Bowen laughed heartily. “Ha! I think you shouldn’t be the town mayor—you’d be better off as a full-time rancher. These are indeed humped cattle, but they’re not dwarfs. They’re naturally like this—they’re mini humped cattle.”

Wang Bo asked curiously, “Wow, what adorable little guys. How did they end up here? Where did they come from?”

Bowen said proudly, “They didn’t just wander here; I bought them. During the Christmas parade, I saw someone leading these little calves in the parade. I guessed you’d like them, so I bought a batch.”

Wang Bo truly liked these cute, plump mini calves—it was perfect to keep them at the ranch.

He stepped down from the observation deck to get a closer look. At that moment, Little Lala and the German Shepherd ran out, barking loudly at one of the calves.

Gerald leisurely followed behind. Seeing him, Wang Bo asked, “What’s he doing?”

Looking at the two spirited little dogs, Gerald’s icy expression softened, revealing a gentle smile. “I’m cultivating their confidence for facing opponents.”

The two little dogs were indeed confident, hopping and barking at the calves. Both were tiny, yet their barks were loud—especially the German Shepherd, barking like a Tibetan Mastiff.

But humped cattle were famously calm. The little calf lowered its head to graze, barely glancing at them before continuing peacefully.

Wang Bo tried to approach to pet one, but the mini humped cattle stepped back. Now they raised their heads, warily staring at him.

Seeing this, Wang Bo’s dog, Zhuang Ding, was displeased. What’s this posture? My master is giving you face, and you step back? Are you looking down on him?

Zhuang Ding barked a few times, then dashed forward and leapt at a gray calf, pinning it down in a flash.

Wang Bo thought Zhuang Ding would start roughhousing, but instead, he wagged his tail happily after pinning the calf, clearly saying: I’ve got you held down, you can play however you like.

Qingyang clearly understood Zhuang Ding’s meaning and laughed. “Wang Bo, back in the old days, Zhuang Ding would have been a perfect loyal sidekick. If you saw a pretty girl on the street, you wouldn’t need to act—he’d take care of it for you.”

It was true.

But while Zhuang Ding could hold a grown woman, he couldn’t pin a mini humped calf. Though calm and gentle by nature, these calves were muscular and strong.

At first, the calf was stunned. Once it realized, it struggled fiercely. Its short, smooth hair made it slippery, and Zhuang Ding couldn’t hold it, so the calf flipped him over.

Wang Bo, intending to pet the calf, had to pull Zhuang Ding up instead.

Zhuang Ding was a dignified dog; being flipped by a calf was humiliating. After all, he had once battled the “Bull Demon King.” He decided to teach the little calf a lesson.

Wang Bo had no choice but to drag him away. The calf was stronger, but far less combative. If Zhuang Ding went all out, he could snap its throat in an instant.

These mini humped cattle piqued Wang Bo’s interest. He researched online and discovered that there were not only mini cattle, but also mini donkeys, mini pigs, and more.

Mini cattle weren’t limited to humped cattle either—there were Mini Ayrshires, small Dexters, micro Galloways, miniature Longhorns, and miniature Bergamasco cattle, among others.

Among these breeds, mini humped cattle were the most common. They were attractive, high in milk and meat production, and could be raised for either meat or as pets.

Seeing these domestic breeds, Wang Bo had a new idea.

His plan would be implemented after New Year’s. Back home, New Year’s was approaching, and the new year was about to begin.

In New Zealand, fireworks were allowed for New Year, but to protect the environment, private fireworks were banned. Only government or organizational displays were permitted.

Wang Bo had Honey purchase fireworks—this year’s New Year would be extravagant. Sunset Town held a grand town-wide party every New Year.

On the last day of December, Sunset Town became lively. People came and went, the streets bustling.

Anderson waved, prompting the department store to start a massive sale. Many items were discounted 10–20%, while ranch products like beef, lamb, chicken, and duck were cut by half.

Many families from Oak City came for the meat. Cousins, panting, told Wang Bo, “Boss, you need a real slaughterhouse. We can’t keep up.”

Wang Bo patted his shoulder. “Next year we’ll set it up. You’ll be in charge!”

This motivated him more than any bonus. Cousins immediately perked up. “Alright, boys! Give it your all, tonight I’ll buy you beer!”

Since morning, Wang Bo and his team had prepared a large amount of food, wine, and drinks at the lakeside. Townsfolk would bring their own dishes, easing his burden.

Additionally, residents brought out their ovens. Over two hundred ovens were lined up at the lakeside—enough for more than four thousand people.

But still, it wasn’t enough. By noon, the town’s traffic exceeded a thousand vehicles—each vehicle representing at least two people, adding over two thousand more. Combined with locals and afternoon arrivals, Wang Bo quickly decided to add more food and drinks.

“Boss, there isn’t enough food in the castle,” said Atulu.

Wang Bo replied, “Bring out everything edible, and get the refrigerators down here! Don’t worry about anything else—go prepare Hangyi. All other arrangements, Bowen will handle with his team.”

Tickets were required to attend the New Year party, but proceeds weren’t for the town or Wang Bo—they were donated to Eva’s special education school.

Eva and the children sold the tickets. It wasn’t mandatory, as the lakeside was open, but most people purchased tickets. Adult tickets cost fifty dollars, children’s ten, each serving as a small souvenir.

Kuncha bought two tickets. Wang Bo thought he was buying for someone else, but Kuncha came alone, keeping both tickets in his pocket.