HLM – Chapter 93 Major Ranch Development

The video on the phone was something Wang Bo had recorded earlier. Hani hadn’t realized that their conversation was being filmed at the time.

Little Hani looked at him warily, hands behind his back, refusing to take the phone. Wang Bo handed it to Zhuang Ding, the big mastiff, who gently took the phone in his mouth and walked over to Little Hani, pushing his head forward to signal him to take it.

Little Hani hesitated before picking up the phone, then couldn’t help but say, “I gotta say, your dog’s amazing. How did you train him?”

“No training,” Wang Bo said with a sidelong glance. “I raised him like a son. He’s grateful—that’s all there is to it.”

Charlie chimed in, “Come to think of it, some people aren’t even as good as a dog. Their old man raises them with everything he’s got, and they still hold a grudge. Ha!”

Little Hani shot him a vicious glare and flipped him the finger. “Fuck-you squid!”

He was about to curse Wang Bo too, but Zhuang Ding suddenly raised his head and stared at him coldly, frightening the boy into silently closing his mouth.

The parrot, Commander, flew over and scoffed, “Ah, your mama blew up! Ah, you little pansy!”

Once again, Little Hani was stunned. He seemed like a curious kid and asked, “Is that parrot speaking a foreign language? What did it say?”

“No cure for stupid!” Commander replied this time—in English.

Little Hani’s jaw dropped…

He tapped the video and saw it was a conversation between Wang Bo and his father. He immediately tried to turn it off, but Wang Bo gave Zhuang Ding a look, and the big dog ran over, glaring at the boy to force him to watch.

After watching, Little Hani gave a mocking sneer. “Heh, so you’re the dumbass mayor? What now, you moonlight as a parenting expert too? I’d say don’t waste your—”

“I’d say you better watch your damn tone when you speak to me,” Wang Bo snapped, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off the ground. His expression was fierce. “This is my turf, not your home. Got it?!”

“Wh-what are you trying to do?!”

“Do? Remember what happened when I arrested you? If you weren’t such a damn kid, I’d have beaten you half to death! Sh*t—thieving little bastard!”

“Don’t insult my mother!” Little Hani yelled.

“You think stealing brings glory to your mother? If she knew what you were doing, you think she could rest in peace?! Can you sink any lower?!”

Wang Bo roared even louder. After being yelled at by Hani before, shouting at his son now felt real good.

Little Hani went quiet. He crouched on the ground in defeat, head between his knees, hands clasped behind his neck—strikingly similar to his father’s usual posture.

Kobe stepped in to ease the tension. “Okay, okay, folks—lunch is ready! A feast fit for kings. If I were you, I’d rinse my mouth and dig into this delicious spread.”

A table full of gourmet dishes was ready: Spanish seafood paella, Italian garden vegetable soup, rich saucy steak, melon prosciutto rolls, wine-pepper grilled lamb ribs, and sides like green pea mash and mashed potatoes—visually and aromatically stunning.

Zhuang Ding wagged his tail and trotted into the room, squatting with narrowed eyes and twitching his dark little nose, clearly delighted by the smells.

Little Hani, evidently a dog lover, chuckled at the sight and said, “What a lovable guy.”

Wang Bo told everyone to sit down and eat. Little Hani didn’t act shy; he went over to find a seat too.

Wang Bo swiftly kicked the bench out from under him, sending Little Hani crashing to the floor. He growled, “What the hell, man?!”

Commander flapped his wings and squawked, “Ah, ah, no manners!”

Wang Bo stroked Commander’s feathers and sneered. “Look at that—you’re not even as grateful as a dog, and not as sensible as a bird! And who the hell said you could eat at the table?”

“You did!”

“Me? Listen up—no one is obligated to feed you except your parents!”

“But you brought me here! You! Otherwise, send me back!”

Wang Bo sliced a piece of steak and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing with great satisfaction. “You got legs, don’t you? Walk back yourself. Mmm, this tastes amazing. Kobe, your family really are culinary geniuses!”

He cut off half the steak and fed it to Zhuang Ding. The dog chomped away happily, sauce and juices dripping, eyes narrowed, ears folded back—pure bliss.

Little Hani glared at him angrily and turned to leave with great pride.

Bowen walked over and pulled him back. “Come on, kid. Sit next to me and eat. You really planning to walk twenty miles back? Want heatstroke?”

Little Hani still tried to act tough, but the aroma at the table, the sight of the dishes, and the fact that he’d been eating dry rye bread at the police station for days made him shamelessly drool…

Especially since—he hadn’t even had breakfast.

Wang Bo knew just how dangerous hunger could be. That’s why he had Kobe prepare this lavish meal—he knew Little Hani wouldn’t be able to resist gourmet food on an empty stomach.

And once the boy started eating, Wang Bo knew the kid wouldn’t be able to stand up to him anymore.

Rebellion needs fire in the belly. But once Little Hani caved to temptation, that fire was gone. And without it, he couldn’t go head-to-head with Wang Bo.

Once Wang Bo got this kid under control, Hani the madman would fall neatly into his hands too.

Wang Bo played the bad cop, while Bowen played the good cop. Naturally, Little Hani developed some gratitude toward Bowen. They spent the next two days together, and the once-defiant teen quickly became Bowen’s little sidekick.

After all, Bowen was a master of exaggeration, had been all over the Americas and Australia, and for a young boy dreaming of adventure, he was practically a living legend.

With over 20 million in funds now available, Wang Bo had far more room to maneuver. His first move? Expanding ranch operations.

Currently, the ranch had fewer than a thousand livestock—not even close to enough. So he contacted Motak and said he wanted to buy another million NZD worth of cattle and sheep. This time, he wanted to raise Boer goats—a top-tier meat breed.

Motak readily agreed, “Come by anytime to pick them out. Looks like your livestock techniques are working well.”

Of course they were—he had the Heart of the Pasture. With it, development was smooth sailing.

Wang Bo had already tasted the mutton from his own ranch and knew how high the quality and flavor were. This was going to be a goldmine.

After heading to Auckland and inspecting a stock twice as large as before, Wang Bo asked, “I also want to raise chickens, ducks, pigs, and geese. Got any good sources?”

Motak looked surprised. “Still free-range? In that case, I wouldn’t recommend chickens, ducks, or geese. They need to be kept penned—otherwise they’ll run off.”

Wang Bo didn’t respond—just smiled. He had other reasons for raising those animals. It was part of a longer-term plan.

But regardless of what he raised, he didn’t need to worry about them running off. The Heart of the Pasture had a binding effect—or perhaps an irresistible pull—on them.