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

After hanging up the phone, Li Mo'an blinked and casually stuffed the phone back into his pocket.

He readjusted his posture, his back still resting against that mountain of iron lumps that made his aunt's heart pound.

The cool touch of metal permeated the fabric, creating an inexplicable sense of comfort on this sweltering afternoon.

He turned his head and glanced at the pile of things beside him.

Reddish-brown rust covered most of the projectile, and in some places, the metallic sheen was even visible underneath. Sunlight shone on it, reflecting a dull, heavy glow.

"Danger?"

Li Mo'an reached out and patted the tail fin of an aerial bomb next to him, making a crisp "clang" sound.

"Isn't this pretty sturdy?"

In his view, only bombs that are counting down or whose fuses have already been detonated deserve to be called dangerous goods. As for these old relics that have been buried in the ground for decades without any movement, they are not much different from roadside stones.

As long as it's not thrown into a steel furnace, it's much safer than many emotionally unstable humans.

I was just thinking about it.

A series of hurried footsteps could be heard on the path in the distance.

"Mo'an—! Brother Mo'an—!"

Before you see him, you hear his voice.

The voice was full of energy, even carrying a hint of panting from running.

Li Mo'an raised his head and looked over calmly.

Pengpeng was running towards us under the blazing sun.

The kid was sweating profusely from running, his bangs were soaked and stuck to his forehead, making him look rather simple-minded.

"Brother Mo'an! Huff... huff..."

Pengpeng ran up to him in one breath, put his hands on his knees, took a couple of deep breaths, and his face beamed with that signature carefree smile. "Dinner's ready! Teacher Huang is calling you back for dinner! Today's stir-fried green beans are a special dish!"

"Okay."

Li Mo'an nodded, bracing himself against the pile of bombs beneath him, and stood up.

He patted the dirt off his backside, the movement casual and natural.

At this moment, Peng Peng, having recovered, finally focused his gaze on the pile of things that Li Mo'an had just been sitting on.

I couldn't see it clearly from a distance, but now that I'm closer, Pengpeng's eyes widened instantly.

Holy crap!

Peng Peng couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, circling the small mountain of debris. "So many? Brother Mo'an, did you hollow out some scrap metal yard?"

He crouched down and reached out to touch the rough surfaces.

"Tsk tsk tsk, the texture, the antique finish."

As Peng Peng touched the props, he exclaimed in a low voice, "The production team really went all out this time! These props are so realistic, and they even have that earthy smell—it's amazing!"

In his mind, this was the recording site of "Mushroom House," a variety show.

Aside from the ingredients, everything that appears in variety shows is definitely a prop.

Could it be the real thing?

Give me a break.

Li Mo'an stood to the side, listening to Peng Peng's exclamation, his expression calm, without saying a word.

He had already promised Yang Mi on the phone that he would interact with her more, but he hadn't promised to explain the recipes to everyone. Besides, he was hungry right now and just wanted to go back and eat that legendary dry-fried green beans.

"This thing must be pretty heavy, right?"

Pengpeng's curiosity got the better of him, and he grabbed a small, iron lump that looked like a long-handled dumbbell with both hands and tried to lift it.

It feels heavy and substantial in the hand.

"Wow! It's solid!"

Peng Peng looked at Li Mo'an in surprise, "If these were made of iron, even pig iron, they would weigh several pounds each, right? Brother Mo'an, you dug up so many by yourself?"

"Hmm, it's alright, not too tiring," Li Mo'an replied casually.

Peng Peng looked at the uniquely shaped iron lump in his hand, examining it from head to toe.

This is a Japanese-style mortar shell, with several rusted tail fins at the rear and a rounded, thick nose. Due to years of oxidation, it looks dark.

Just then.

Peng Peng seemed to suddenly remember something, and his eyes lit up.

"Oh? That's right!"

He slapped his thigh and said, "Teacher Huang was just saying that the window frame in our room is loose and rattles loudly when the wind blows. He was thinking of finding a hammer to hammer in some nails to reinforce it."

"But the hammer in the toolbox seems to be missing."

As Peng Peng spoke, he raised the mortar shell in his hand and waved it twice in the air.

A gust of wind whistled through the air.

"Hey! I think this one would be perfect!"

Peng Peng laughed, using the shell's tail tube as a handle, and mimed hammering a nail. "Look," he said, "this end is round, hard, and heavy, and the grip is just right. It'll be perfect as a hammer!"

At this moment, a barrage of "hahahahaha" messages appeared in the live stream chat.

"Pengpeng, you know how to make use of waste."

"Hilarious, this prop can be used like this?"

"I have to say, it really does look like a giant hammer."

"Teacher Huang: I asked you to find a hammer, and you brought me a work of art?"

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

Peng Peng was increasingly satisfied with what he saw. He turned to Li Mo'an and asked, "Brother Mo'an, can I borrow this for a bit? Anyway, these are just piled up here. I'll take them back, finish nailing them, and then bring them back to you."

Upon hearing this, Li Mo'an stopped tidying her clothes.

He turned around, his calm, unwavering eyes falling on the dark object in Peng Peng's hand.

The moment when all eyes are focused.

The pale blue system data panel, which only he could see, popped up instantly and covered the object.

【Item Name: Japanese Type 97 90mm Mortar Shell (Unexploded)】

[Current Status: Severe corrosion; fuse safety pin has failed; internal explosive charge structure is stable.]

[Stress Analysis: The projectile's outer shell is made of cast iron, with a thickness of 12mm.]

[Trigger threshold calculation in progress...]

[Conclusion: The bomb is in a relatively dormant state under conditions of non-high temperature (below 200°C) and non-violent impact (impact force less than 5000N).]

[Operational Prediction: When used as a hammer for routine woodworking nailing (impact force approximately 200N-500N), the fuse trigger probability is less than 0.0001%.]

[Tolerance: Expected to withstand over 1200 consecutive conventional blows.]

A series of complex physical formulas and chemical structural diagrams flashed through Li Mo'an's mind.

That's top-tier mine clearance and explosives disposal skills.

Li Mo'an looked at the data calmly and silently did some calculations in his mind.

Repairing a window only requires four or five nails at most.

If you hammer a nail ten times, that's fifty times.

It's still a long way from the limit of 1,200 cycles.

The level of security redundancy here is even higher than that of a bank vault door.

Since the data shows that everything is safe, what is there to worry about?

This is the power of science.

then.

Under Pengpeng's expectant gaze.

Li Mo'an nodded calmly and said in a nonchalant tone:

"Go."

These two simple words convey a convincing sense of composure.

"Okay! Thank you, Brother Mo'an!"

Pengpeng was overjoyed.

He thought he was a genius for thinking of using this as a hammer. He was sure that when he got back, Teacher Huang would praise him for being clever.

He gripped the tail of the mortar shell tightly with his right hand, hoisting the heavy warhead onto his shoulder like a young soldier who had just captured a trophy.

"I'll run back now! Hurry up, or the green beans will get cold and won't taste good!"

After saying that, Pengpeng took off running towards the Mushroom House.

As he ran, the hammer bounced up and down on his shoulder.

Under the sunlight, the warhead, exuding a dangerous aura, rose and fell with his movements, reflecting an eerie light.

"Slow down, don't fall."

Without hesitation, Li Mo'an spoke up to remind him.

But before he could finish speaking, Pengpeng had already darted around the corner like a rabbit and disappeared at the end of the village road.

"That's a bomb, after all."

Only then did he say what he was going to say next.

Watching the other person's figure disappear, he shook his head, speechless.

Then, he took long strides and followed at a leisurely pace.

As he walked, he sighed inwardly.

Back when I was in the military region, the instructor always said that he lacked sufficient awareness of danger and that he needed to be given a psychological evaluation.

In retrospect, that assessment was really inaccurate.

Doesn't he know exactly where the danger boundary lies? He can even calculate the force and number of impacts clearly.

On the contrary, it's this Peng Peng.

He could carry such a huge shell and run like the wind without any psychological burden.

"This truly shows a lack of awareness of danger."

Li Mo'an thought calmly, thinking that young people these days are really carefree.

He completely forgot that he hadn't made it clear to Peng Peng that it was a bomb.