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

You cursed the neighbor, and you're still unfazed even if Mount Tai collapses in front of you?

This moment.

The police station chief braced himself on the table, his once rosy, chubby face now as white as a sheet, cold sweat dripping down his temples and onto the glass of his desk.

He was now completely terrified, his mind buzzing with the words "bomb," "whole village," and "skyward" swirling wildly in his head.

As a grassroots cadre, he had handled neighborhood disputes, caught petty thieves, and even coordinated disputes over forced demolitions, but he had never seen a scene like this, which was comparable to a war movie.

"Hurry! Hurry!"

The director frantically waved his arms, instinctively wanting to give an order:

"Gather our men! Assemble immediately! Grab your equipment and go clear the mines!"

However, he stopped halfway through his sentence, his voice abruptly ceasing.

He stared blankly at his two equally pale-faced subordinates before suddenly realizing what nonsense he was spouting.

"What kind of gathering is this?!"

The director cursed angrily and slapped his thigh hard.

They are just a local police station, and their main equipment is batons and handcuffs.

Mine clearance?

Let alone mine-clearing experts, they might not even be able to find a decent metal detector that works properly.

Expecting them to deal with aerial bombs and landmines all over the village? That's not clearing mines, that's sending people to their deaths, that's helping the King of Hell meet his quota!

After realizing that the seriousness of the problem had completely exceeded the handling capacity of not only him, but even the entire county-level public security system.

The director dared not delay any longer and immediately picked up the phone on the table.

With trembling fingers, he dialed the number of the county police chief.

"Beep—beep—"

The moment the call connected, the director, as if grasping at a lifeline, spoke rapidly, his voice trembling with tears, reporting to his superior:

"Chief! Something terrible has happened! The sky is falling!"

"The village where the 'Mushroom House' show was filmed... their ground is full of bombs! And now the villagers have dug them up and taken them home! Some are using them to crush garlic, some are using them as toys for their kids! They could blow up the whole village at any moment! These things just happened to us..."

"Thump!"

A dull thud came through the receiver.

That's the sound of a human body making intimate contact with the floor.

And on the other end of the phone.

The county bureau chief, who was sitting in a leather swivel chair reviewing documents, froze after hearing these words.

The dignified county bureau chief was so frightened by this news that he slid off his chair and fell flat on his backside.

But this is just the beginning.

Things were unfolding faster than the shockwave from a bomb explosion.

In the next five minutes...

This small police station, which usually only deals with trivial matters, became the center of the storm.

The phone rang incessantly, like a death knell, never ceasing.

First, several key leaders from the county called, sounding extremely anxious, to inquire about the situation.

Then came the head of the county's armed forces department, whose voice was so serious it sounded like he was about to go to war.

Then came a series of calls from leaders at all levels in the city, each one higher than the last.

At last.

"Ring ring—!!!"

When the phone rang, representing the leaders of the municipal military region, that is, the garrison district.

The director's hands were trembling violently as he held the phone receiver, as if he had Parkinson's disease.

Hearing the authoritative and imposing voice of the military leader on the other end of the phone, he felt his legs go weak and he could barely stand.

He could only keep swallowing hard, trying to moisten his already dry and parched throat.

Even so, he still felt like he was suffocating.

This time, we've really stirred up a hornet's nest.

But the story isn't over yet!

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

at the same time.

A certain province, provincial military region.

In the spacious and bright office of the leader, sunlight streamed through the blinds onto the floor, and the air conditioner blew a cool breeze at a constant temperature.

Zou Jianguo, the bigwig of the military region, was sitting behind his desk, enjoying a rare moment of leisure.

His temples were gray, and he wore a contented smile as he held an old-fashioned enamel mug in his hands, gently blowing on the tea leaves floating on the water.

Since sending away that "strange" kid Li Mo'an half a month ago, the entire military region seems to have changed completely.

Those days of constantly being on edge, fearing that one day we would hear "Reporting to the commander, we've dug up another big one" or "Reporting to the commander, a pit has been dug next to the ammunition depot," are finally gone forever.

Officers at all levels no longer need to be on edge during routine training, and the soldiers in the engineering battalion no longer need to be ready to clear mines every day.

The whole world is quiet.

"Slurp—"

Zou Jianguo leisurely took a sip of tea, the warm liquid flowing down his throat, making him comfortably squint his eyes.

"This is life."

Such a thought came to his mind.

"When that brat was around, he was always causing us trouble."

Zou Jianguo put down his teacup, looked out the window at the soldiers shouting battle cries on the training ground, and muttered to himself:

"Back then, we were so busy cleaning up his messes, either filling in potholes here or evacuating people there. It almost drove this old man to the brink of neurasthenia."

"Now that I'm free, I feel a bit idle."

Zou Jianguo shook his head, complaining as if he were missing those chaotic days.

But in reality, every wrinkle on his face smoothed out, and he actually quite enjoyed this leisurely time.

He couldn't even help but chuckle.

That smile was like the relief of having sent away a plague god, or the ease of having unloaded a heavy burden.

After the laughter subsided, the office returned to silence.

Zou Jianguo leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.

Now that I have some free time, my thoughts tend to wander.

He muttered to himself again, thinking:

"I wonder how that brat is doing in the entertainment industry lately?"

"I heard Yang Mi arranged some kind of slow-paced variety show for him? Something like 'Mushroom House'?"

"That kind of place should be pretty safe, right? It's just farming and cooking, there's not much for him to use his 'special skills'."

Thinking of this, Zou Jianguo had a sudden inspiration.

He sat up straight, reached out and grabbed the mouse, and typed "Li Mo'an" into the browser on the computer in front of him.

Then, I gently pressed the Enter key.

"despair."

After he finished knocking, he shook his head, chuckled to himself, and realized he had lost his mind.

"What am I doing?"

Zou Jianguo chuckled. "How long has this kid been in the entertainment industry? Less than half a month, right? How could a newcomer possibly have any reputation online?"

In his view, Li Mo'an's overly calm personality, coupled with his lack of awareness of danger, would probably make him virtually unknown in the entertainment industry, a place where social skills are essential.

It's already good enough if you can find even a name.

however.

In the very next second.

The instant the search results appear when the webpage is refreshed.

The smile on Zou Jianguo's face seemed to freeze instantly.

He just stood there, stunned.

Because the browser actually found Li Mo'an's name.

Moreover, it's not just one or two.

Instead, it was overwhelming and densely packed.

For a moment, Zou Jianguo thought he was seeing things, or that his computer had been infected with a virus.

He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

When he saw the series of news headlines that appeared using the protagonist's name, he felt as if he had seen a ghost.

[Shocking! Newcomer to Mushroom House discovers giant aerial bomb during live stream!]

[Li Mo'an: I'm sourcing weapons from the Mushroom House!]

[The whole village mobilized! Hand grenades were used to smash garlic, and landmines were used as ashtrays – a truly hardcore road construction scene!]

Who's actually repairing the road? This is clearly a bomb disposal expert!

[Danger! Hundreds of WWII-era bombs have been discovered at the Mushroom House!]

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

Looking at these shocking headlines, and the mountain of iron lumps in the accompanying pictures, one is struck by their starkness.

Zou Jianguo's mouth was slightly open, his eyes were wide open, and his eyeballs looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

His face, which had weathered many storms and remained unfazed even when Mount Tai collapsed before him, was now filled with utter shock and disbelief.

"This...this?!"