Stop it, the country really can't fit any more bans on the domestic entertainment industry.

For the couple living in that secondhand house in the county town, this series of events was like the sky falling and the earth collapsing.

But for the viewers who are still at the entrance of Mushroom House Village or watching the live stream, this is just a relatively ordinary morning among countless fun moments.

Time flowed by, and it was noon from morning.

At this moment, the scorching sun mercilessly baked the earth again, and cicadas chirped desperately in the treetops, making people feel irritable.

Dust billowed on the dirt road at the village entrance.

Li Mo'an was still wearing the training uniform that was soaked with sweat and dried, covered with salt frost. He held a hoe in his hand and calmly repeated the monotonous digging action.

"when."

"when."

The sound of metal clashing has become the only background noise here.

After this period of hard work, and given his tireless physical strength, he has cleared most of the several hundred-meter-long dirt road.

And in the roadside bushes, what was originally just a small mound of spoils has now undergone a qualitative change.

It is no longer a small mound, but has become a real hill.

It was a steel tomb made up of countless rusty, mud-covered, and oddly shaped metal lumps.

A rough count reveals that the total number of various types of aerial bombs, anti-personnel mines, hand grenades, and mortar shells has exceeded a thousand.

They were packed together densely, gleaming with a dark reddish luster in the sunlight, like an open-air miniature armory exhibition.

The visual impact was so strong that even through the screen, it sent shivers down the spines of the viewers in the live stream, but it was followed by a screen full of "hahaha" and "the props team is awesome".

And at the scene.

For these villagers who have always lived in the village and see each other every day, these things are nothing new.

At first, they came to watch the spectacle and pointed at these strangely shaped iron lumps.

But after seeing it so many times, it just becomes the same.

Isn't it just a pile of scrap metal used for road construction?

It was midday, and many villagers were squatting under the shade of trees by the roadside, eating their meals while watching Li Mo'an work and commenting on the ever-growing pile of iron.

With the road nearing completion, these excavated waste materials became ownerless.

Some villagers who are usually thrifty and like to take advantage of small things started to get their minds started to wander.

In their simple value system, there are only two things in this world: things that can be used and things that cannot be used.

What's unusable is called garbage; what's usable is called treasure.

These lumps of iron clearly belong to the latter category—even if they can't be used, they are still iron!

Iron can be sold for money!

A plump village woman wearing a floral shirt put her empty bowl on the ground, wiped the grease from the corner of her mouth, and grinned as she approached Officer Zhang, who was maintaining order nearby.

"Officer Zhang, are you busy?"

The village woman handed him a bottle of mineral water with a fawning expression.

Old Zhang was sweltering in the heat, but without any hesitation, he took the drink and sipped it: "Get to the point."

"Hehe, is that so?"

The village woman pointed to the mountain of iron at Li Mo'an's feet, her eyes gleaming with calculation:

"I think this young man is almost done digging. Now that your show is finished filming, are you still going to use these metal props?"

Old Zhang paused for a moment, glancing at the pile of things. In his mind, these were just scrap metal parts that the old man had buried years ago, or props created by the production team for dramatic effect.

"This... probably won't be of much use," Old Zhang replied casually.

Upon hearing this, the village woman's eyes lit up instantly, like two light bulbs.

She leaned forward and lowered her voice, but it was loud enough for everyone around to hear:

"Since you're not using it, could you let us take it away?"

"Look, these things are taking up space here and could easily trip people up. Why don't you let us help you clean them up?"

At this point, she stopped pretending and said bluntly:

"They all look quite heavy. Even if they're just pig iron, you can still make some money selling them as scrap metal at the junkyard. Perfect timing to buy some notebooks for the kids at home."

This sentence was like a drop of water being poured into a calm pan of oil.

With a "sizzle" sound.

The other villagers who were initially observing all immediately gathered around.

Everyone was talking at once, afraid that if they were a step too late, the good stuff would be snatched away by someone else.

"Yes, Officer Zhang! This is some good stuff!"

"That one looks a lot like a weight, and it's solid, right? It must weigh dozens of kilograms!"

"It's such a waste to throw it away! That's a waste of resources! We're helping the production team dispose of their trash; it's a good deed!"

"Everyone gets a share! My family just happens to need a few stones to weigh down our pickled vegetable jars, and I think those round ones are perfect!"

The scene instantly became chaotic, like a noisy vegetable market.

Everyone stared at the pile of bombs that could level the entire village, their eyes filled with greed, as if it weren't an invitation from the King of Hell, but rather heaps of bright red banknotes.

Li Mo'an, who was swinging a hoe, finally stopped.

He straightened up, his handsome face still calm, showing no emotional fluctuations.

He turned around and looked at the group of villagers who were oblivious to their own mortality and were preparing to take the bomb home to sell for money.

He simply looked at the village woman who was leading the group, his tone calm, as if stating a very simple fact:

"no."

These two words, though not loud, have a very strong penetrating power.

The villagers who were making a fuss paused for a moment and then fell silent.

"Why?" the village woman asked, somewhat displeased. "Since you don't want it anymore, what's wrong with giving it to us?"

Li Mo'an looked at her, then glanced at everyone around her, calmly raised her head, and said earnestly:

"This is a bomb."

"Selling it would be a huge financial disaster."

The air was quiet for a second.

Followed by.

"puff......"

"Hahahaha!"

........................................

A burst of laughter erupted, startling the cicadas in the trees into silence.

The villagers laughed so hard they were doubled over, some even squatting on the ground clutching their stomachs.

"Oh my god, this is hilarious! This young man is so funny!"

"A bomb? You're selling it for money and it explodes? Why don't you just call it an atomic bomb?"

"Young man, are you getting too into character? Wasn't this show already filmed? Why are you still acting?"

An old man carrying a pipe walked up with a smile and patted Li Mo'an on the shoulder heavily.

"Young man, you're really good at this acting! You really think you're a bomb disposal expert!"

The old man pointed to the road beneath his feet, his face saying, "You can't fool me."

"We've been walking this road for decades, with oxcarts and tractors driving on it every day, and nobody's been blown up! If it were a bomb, it would have exploded long ago! Why would we be waiting for you to come and dig?"

"Exactly!"

Another villager chimed in, pointing towards the mushroom house in the distance, and retorted with an air of self-righteousness:

"You're saying this is a dangerous bomb? Well, yesterday that chubby kid, what's his name, Pengpeng? He took one home and used it as a hammer!"

"He seemed to handle that hammer quite well, and I didn't see it explode!"

These words immediately resonated with everyone.

If even celebrities can take it back and use it as a hammer, then it must be a prop made of metal!

Since it's a prop, why can't we take it?

"We're not going to sell them for money anymore!"

The village woman, who had initially been naive, quickly changed her tune, claiming that Li Mo'an was concerned about the money and didn't want them to take advantage of her.

So she said loudly:

"We can take it back and use it as a hammer, a doorstop, or even to weigh down a sauerkraut jar, that should be fine, right?"

"Yeah! I want a hammer too!"

"I want the round one, so my grandson can use it as a stool!"

........................................

The villagers got more and more excited as they talked, their emotions already stirred up.

Driven by the mentality of "the law does not punish the masses" and the desire to gain an advantage, they ignored Li Mo'an's weak warning.

The crowd began to surge.

Everyone stepped forward, stretching out their rough, calloused hands, ready to "divide up" this active volcano that could erupt at any moment.