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

Just as Teacher Huang was making that huge prediction that something terrible could happen.

Li Mo'an has already packed his bags.

Now that I've taken on the task, I have to get to work.

This was a habit he developed in the army, and it was also the diligence that Yang Mi had repeatedly reminded him to be.

He rummaged through the storeroom and found a hoe, a shovel, and casually draped a white towel around his neck.

This outfit, paired with his angular, strikingly handsome face, created a strange and wonderful chemical reaction.

It's like a top male model going to the countryside to experience life; there's a kind of reckless and cool vibe about it.

"Then I'll go."

Li Mo'an greeted everyone in the courtyard with a calm expression, showing no trace of resentment at being exiled.

Then, carrying a hoe, he strode out of the gate of the Mushroom House.

The cameraman responsible for filming him quickly carried his equipment and followed.

As Li Mo'an left, the live stream screen split in two.

The main live stream will remain at the Mushroom House, filming Teacher Huang and his family's happy life.

The split-screen live stream was given to Li Mo'an.

Although most viewers stayed in the main live stream to watch the excitement, several thousand fans and curious viewers flocked to Li Mo'an's personal live stream.

The comments scrolled by sparsely.

"To be honest, this young man has a really good attitude. He can remain so calm even after being assigned to road repair."

"Is this what they call emotional stability? I love it!"

"Stop swooning over there. Is road construction even human work? It's dirty and exhausting. He'll be crying for his parents in no time."

"Indeed, I just looked at the road at the entrance of the village. It's full of mud pits and broken stone slabs. If we want to repair it, we have to dig out all those stone slabs first, which is a huge undertaking."

"I feel sorry for Mo An for a second. He's just unlucky to have run into Huang Yaoshi."

Li Mo'an didn't read the comments.

He was walking along a village path, breathing in the fresh air unique to the countryside, and was actually in a pretty good mood.

Road construction involves dealing with the land.

He feels a sense of connection whenever he deals with the land.

After all, back in the army, he was the excavator of the engineering company; there was no soil he couldn't dig up.

Hopefully, we can dig up something interesting.

Such a thought crossed his mind, but he immediately shook his head.

This is the countryside, not the battlefield of yesteryear. What could you possibly find? At most, you might dig up some earthworms or even just some broken pieces of porcelain buried underneath.

I was just thinking about it.

Suddenly, a loud engine roar came from around a corner ahead.

Immediately afterwards, a blue pickup truck that looked quite old and whose paint was almost completely worn out backed out of a farmhouse.

The truck bed was piled high with stuff.

A dilapidated wardrobe, a large bundle wrapped in a bed sheet, pots and pans, and even a struggling old hen tied up.

The pile of things looked precarious, as if it might fall at any moment and hit passersby.

Beside the car, a middle-aged man and woman were frantically stuffing the last of their belongings into the vehicle.

The man was wearing a faded gray jacket, sweating profusely, and looking anxious. He was stuffing things into his clothes while glancing around. He didn't look like he was moving house; he looked more like he was fleeing a disaster.

The woman was dressed like a typical rural woman, with her hair somewhat disheveled, holding a chipped tin biscuit box in her hands, and her face full of panic.

In the passenger seat, with the window half open, sat an elderly man with gray hair who looked to be over seventy years old, sitting there blankly.

The old man seemed to have some candy in his mouth, a trace of drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes cloudy and unfocused, and he was grinning foolishly at the air outside the window.

Li Mo'an happened to walk over here.

The village roads are not wide to begin with, and this truck blocking the way has basically blocked most of them.

Out of politeness, and also to get through, Li Mo'an stopped.

He adjusted the hoe on his shoulder, a kind smile spreading across his face, and greeted the busy middle-aged couple:

"Uncle, Auntie, are you busy? Are you moving?"

His voice was clear and bright, standing out exceptionally well on the quiet village road.

however.

This simple greeting brought the scene to a standstill.

The middle-aged man who was stuffing snakeskin bags into the truck bed suddenly froze.

He turned around and saw Li Mo'an standing by the roadside.

Normally, he might not have reacted much if he saw a strange young man.

But the next second, his gaze passed over Li Mo'an and fell upon the cameraman following behind, the camera with its red light flashing, and the microphone held high.

"Clang!"

The snakeskin bag in the man's hand fell directly to the ground, scattering the old clothes inside all over the floor.

His pupils contracted instantly, as if he had seen something terrifying, and the color drained from his face in an instant.

His expression didn't seem like he saw the TV crew, but rather like he saw special police officers coming to arrest him.

The middle-aged woman next to her was so frightened that she almost dropped the tin biscuit box in her arms.

She even subconsciously shrank back behind the man.

The two looked at each other and saw a deep-seated fear and panic in each other's eyes.

That's the instinctive reaction of someone hiding a huge secret when it's about to be exposed.

"Quick! Let's go!"

The middle-aged man didn't even bother to pick up his clothes from the ground; his voice trembled violently and sounded very hoarse.

He shoved the car door open, his movements so rough he almost tripped over himself.

"Stop dawdling! Get in! Get in now!"

He growled as he shoved the middle-aged woman, who hadn't yet reacted, towards the car.

The woman panicked and scrambled onto the back seat, almost forgetting to close the car door.

Throughout the entire process, they didn't even dare to look at Li Mo'an once; their evasive gazes practically screamed "guilty conscience."

Li Mo'an watched this scene calmly, his raised hand still frozen in mid-air.

He was somewhat puzzled.

Do I look that scary?

Or does this camera have some kind of evil-repelling function that scared people like this?

"Uncle, you've lost something..."

Li Mo'an kindly pointed to the old clothes on the ground, wanting to offer a reminder.

"I don't want it anymore! I don't want any of it!"

The middle-aged man ignored him completely, jumped into the driver's seat, and turned the car key with trembling hands.

boom--!

The dilapidated truck let out a painful roar, spewing a plume of black smoke from its exhaust pipe.

The man was like he was being chased by a ghost; he didn't care whether the road was smooth or not, and he floored the gas pedal.

The car suddenly lurched forward, kicking up a cloud of dust that nearly choked Li Mo'an.

"Why......"

Li Mo'an had just opened his mouth to say something when the car, trailing a plume of black smoke, sped wildly toward the village entrance and disappeared around the corner in the blink of an eye.

All that remained in the air was a foul odor from exhaust fumes and a few old clothes lying forlornly on the ground.

The scene was completely silent.

The cameraman following them was a bit confused, pointing the lens at those clothes and then back at Li Mo'an.

The chat room was also completely confused.

"What's going on? Why are this family acting like they've seen a ghost?"

"Is this streamer's appearance really that striking? She scared people away?"

"Something's not right. Look at that man's face. He's really scared, he's sweating."

"Maybe they're afraid of the camera? Some honest people have never seen anything like this before, and their social anxiety kicked in."

"But surely they don't have to throw away their clothes? It looks like they're running for their lives."

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

Li Mo'an stood still, watching the truck disappear into the distance, and raised his hand to fan away the dust in front of him.

He felt somewhat bewildered.

Are all the people in this village so impatient?

It's just moving house, don't make it sound like you're on the run.

Why do you act like you've done something wrong?

He muttered something to himself and shook his head.

However, he didn't take this little incident to heart.

After all, the world is a big place and anything can happen. Maybe they have some kind of emergency at home, or maybe they really are hiding from debt collectors?

"Never mind, getting to work is the priority."

Li Mo'an slung the hoe over his shoulder, stopped thinking about the strange family, and turned to continue walking towards the dirt road at the village entrance.

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

at the same time.

On the speeding blue truck.

The windows were tightly closed, and the atmosphere inside the carriage was oppressive and suffocating.

The middle-aged man gripped the steering wheel tightly, the veins on the back of his hands bulging, cold sweat dripping down his face and into his eyes, stinging painfully, but he didn't even dare to wipe it away.

As he drove, he kept glancing in the rearview mirror, worried that the production crew's car with the Mushroom House logo would catch up.

In the back seat, the middle-aged woman clutched the tin box tightly, trembling all over, muttering incoherently, "May Buddha protect me, may Buddha protect me, please don't let us be discovered, please don't let us be discovered..."

Only the elderly man in his seventies in the passenger seat still had that same cheerful look on his face.

He chewed on a piece of hard candy that was almost melted, clapped his hands happily as he watched the trees rushing past the window, as if he had seen something interesting.

The car drove for several kilometers until it reached the county road, at which point the middle-aged man finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He slowed down a little, but still didn't dare to stop.

He turned his head and glanced at his carefree old father beside him, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

It was a mixture of helplessness, fear, heartache, and profound speechlessness.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty, his voice dry as if he had a handful of sand in his mouth.

He looked at the seventy-year-old man and confirmed again, his tone pleading, as if hoping for a negative answer:

"Dad, under that road you built... were there really that many people buried there?"

The old father turned around when he heard his son's voice.

He blinked his cloudy eyes, seemingly trying to understand his son's words.

After several seconds, as if he remembered something happy, he grinned, revealing a few broken teeth, and chuckled.

He didn't speak, but simply stretched out his hands, covered in calluses and scars, and made a large circle in the air.

Then, he pointed to the ground and nodded heavily.

The meaning is obvious—there are many, a great many, all below.

Upon seeing his father's action, the middle-aged man felt a wave of dizziness and almost lost his grip on the steering wheel.

The last shred of hope vanished completely at that moment.

He closed his eyes in anguish, a wail echoing in his heart.

Not long ago, his father, for a rare moment of lucidity, told him about this in a mysterious way.

At the time, he thought the old man was just delirious due to dementia.

So I just randomly dug around a couple of times at the village entrance...

At that moment, he felt like the sky had fallen.

That's why he hurriedly packed his things overnight and moved out quickly, fearing that if he was even a second late, those things would be sent to the sky, or he would be taken away by the police.

As soon as they stepped out, they ran into the production crew repairing the road.

What terrible things have they done?!

Looking at his elderly father laughing like a child beside him, the middle-aged man was speechless, unable to even cry.

Thinking to himself, his father had really paved a road to heaven for his fellow villagers.