For Wang Bo, this job wasn’t difficult at all. In fact, to anyone with even a little basic life skill, this task was extremely simple.
According to the orders sent in, he quickly mixed over a dozen glasses of sparkling cocktails.
As always, the return was proportional to the effort put in—sparkling cocktails made this way naturally didn’t taste like much. Drinks in the shop sold for over ten dollars per cup, yet these weren’t worth ten at all—the cost wasn’t even one dollar.
The real valuable and challenging part was handled by Bill. He was in charge of mixing fruit juice into the soda and adding edible flavoring.
In addition, he would decorate the rim of each cup with slices of fruit—orange, lime, lemon, anything suitable.
After stirring everything evenly, he would also place one or two mint leaves, or sage leaves, or other aromatic herbs on top of the drink.
Only then would the finished product become a delicious glass of sparkling wine—tasty, refreshing, and visually appealing.
When he had a moment of free time, Wang Bo went to check on the finished drinks.
Because the soda itself carried carbonation, it pulled the ice and wine together, causing them to quickly blend in the middle of the cup. At that moment, more air bubbles were released from within the ice cubes, rising constantly to the surface in a steady stream.
And as the bubbles carried the cold temperature of the ice upward, the outer wall of the cup rapidly cooled down. So when customers took the drink and walked into the sunlight, a thin layer of condensation would form on the outside of the cup, giving it a strangely enchanting beauty.
But what truly made this beverage the store’s signature product was the sparkling water made with spiritual spring water. It could perfectly highlight the flavors of red wine and fruit juice.
This was the power of spiritual spring water. When drunk alone, it was simply cold and faintly sweet, not too different from regular mountain spring water.
But when used as a base, its effect was tremendous. For example, when used to brew coffee, it made the aroma richer and allowed the coffee beans’ natural fragrance to fully unfold.
When used in drinks, it helped create clearly layered flavors, preserving as much of the original taste of the wine and fruit juice as possible rather than blending them into a single mixed flavor.
For the two weekend days, Wang Bo helped out at the drink bar. Since the weather was hot both days, customers were constantly pouring in.
The drink bar also solved the issue of the milk produced from the ranch.
Normally, the ranch’s milk was sold in the supermarket. Wang Bo had built a small automated milking line, capable of producing 600 to 800 liters of pure milk per day.
There was no way his family could drink that much—one dairy cow alone produced enough for all of them. So he sold the rest to the townspeople.
A level-three ranch didn’t just improve meat quality—it also improved the quality of cow’s milk and goat’s milk. No matter the type, the milk would be bought up quickly after being produced.
Wang Bo did not price the milk high, because most buyers were townspeople, and he didn’t care much to make profit off them.
But the quality of this milk was truly excellent, very high in value. Selling it cheap didn’t align with market logic, and this resulted in everyone fighting to buy the ranch milk. Sometimes even conflicts broke out for the freshest batches.
The drink bar needed both cow milk and goat milk, and over half their drinks contained milk or required fresh milk.
With the drink bar’s strong sales capacity, several hundred liters of fresh milk could be sold easily.
And drinks made with fresh ranch milk were certainly not priced the same as drinks made with regular milk sources. These drinks sold at a minimum of thirty New Zealand dollars per cup—they were high-end beverages.
What surprised Wang Bo was that the high-end drinks actually sold even better. Tourists, especially, preferred spending a little more for something truly delicious, rather than saving money on a mediocre drink.
Looking at the sales report for the weekend, Wang Bo exclaimed in shock, “People are really loaded nowadays—the sales of Sunset Fresh Milk drinks are actually second only to the sparkling wine?”
Bill smiled. “That’s normal, boss. People travel to spend. Of course they want to try the best food and drinks.”
Another drink maker, Carmen Rousseau, added, “With such amazing water quality, I actually think we should start brewing our own beer. We can position it as a premium drink too. I bet it’d be just as popular.”
New Zealanders were wild—low-alcohol beer wasn’t sold in bars but in drink shops.
Bill continued, “It’s a great direction to grow in. But if our ranch could produce more fresh milk, we’d make even more money—and far more easily.”
Wang Bo rubbed his chin. “The ranch’s dairy cow count is the lowest. You’re saying… I should expand the dairy herd?”
Hani, who was reviewing the revenue report with him, said, “You should’ve done it long ago. Fresh milk from the ranch is the most popular item in town.”
It was precisely because it was that popular that Wang Bo didn’t expand the dairy herd earlier.
He’d priced the ranch’s fresh milk at normal rates from the beginning, and after that he couldn’t raise the price. There was no profit in fresh milk—so why raise more cows?
Besides, he hadn’t yet built the slaughterhouse back then. The cowboys were already too busy processing meat; how would they find time to milk cows?
But Bill’s words gave him inspiration. Selling fresh milk itself wasn’t profitable—but if he used milk to develop secondary products, then profits could skyrocket.
New Zealand was a livestock powerhouse, with livestock far outnumbering people. And surprisingly, the dominant sector wasn’t meat ranching—many people didn’t realize that the dairy ranches were even more numerous.
With this idea in mind, Wang Bo began researching related information.
A drink bar was small-scale business. But if he expanded dairy cows and dairy goats significantly, that would mean large-scale herd expansion—and he’d need more sales channels.
The dairy industry in New Zealand was enormous, with about 11,400 dairy farms nationwide. This number included both commercial and non-commercial small farms.
Non-commercial farms didn’t mean their milk didn’t enter the market—it simply meant they weren’t linked with commercial brands.
For example, the Sunset Town Ranch used to be such a farm—the milk was consumed by locals and never formally entered the market under a commercial label.
In the year 2000, New Zealand had 1.33 million hectares of land dedicated to dairy production. At present, this had increased to 1.64 million hectares.
In 2000, each farm had an average of 160 cows. Now the number had risen to 393 cows per farm.
Most dairy farms were located on the North Island—about 65% of the total. The South Island had only half as many.
However, South Island farms, while fewer, tended to be larger and had experienced rapid growth in the past decade—especially in the South Canterbury region, where the average farm had 780 dairy cows, far exceeding the North Island’s average of 350 cows.
In 2000, New Zealand produced 13 billion liters of milk annually. Last year, the number had increased to 19.1 billion liters.
Of all the milk produced in New Zealand, 95% was processed and exported—for example into milk powder, cheese, cream, butter, and protein products. These goods dramatically increased the value of milk!
After reading all this, Wang Bo now had a clear understanding of how large his dairy ranch could grow.
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