Chapter 072: A Taboo Confirmed

Lu Mou sat in the spacious armchair of his office, pressing the dial button on his phone once more.

The lively ringtone on the other end played on and on, cheerful and relentless, until it was replaced by the sound of a busy signal.

He slowly picked up the pipe resting above the sofa; the tobacco had been freshly packed. Just as he brought it to his lips, the door was suddenly slammed open with force.

Lu Mou stared at the entrance, baffled.

The room was thick with smoke, making it impossible to see the newcomer clearly. He could barely make out that the person was carrying something strange, cradled in his arms as if he were a New Year’s boy descending to earth in a festive painting.

The visitor was flustered, darting his eyes around the room as he called out anxiously, “Boss, are you alright? Where’s the fire? Where is it?”

Recognizing the voice, Lu Mou replied awkwardly, “I’m fine—there’s no fire in the office, I just smoked a bit too much.”

With a heavy thud, Ling Chi set the fire extinguisher down on the floor, grinning. “Ah, Boss, you really should cut back on the smoking. From outside, it looked like a toxic cloud in here—I thought your office was burning!”

“Mm, I’ve gotten a bit out of control lately,” Lu Mou said offhandedly.

Ling Chi shrugged, stepped closer, and asked in surprise, “Boss, is something bothering you? Is it because Vice President Lin and Old Third still haven’t made contact?”

Lu Mou took a deep drag, his gaze focusing on a particular spot in the air as he murmured, “Ever since they sent back that last investigation report, both of them vanished completely.”

Instead of looking worried, Ling Chi’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Heh, every time Brother Lin disappears, he comes back with some major discovery. I wonder what surprise he’ll bring us this time!”

Lu Mou exhaled a plume of smoke, his tone somber. “This time is different. What they went to investigate could be insect-related. If that’s true, even I can’t estimate how dangerous it is. You know, lately the internet’s been flooded with so-called ‘shop-checking taboos,’ but incidents keep happening to those streamers regardless. There might be truth to these taboos, and whatever’s behind it is certainly connected to the core insects.”

“Of course, Boss. Can I ask—did Brother Lin’s last report suggest what these taboos actually are?” Ling Chi inquired.

Lu Mou raised his brows and glanced over. “I was just about to tell Miaoran and the others. Let’s go together.”

They pushed open the office door, and a thick cloud of smoke billowed into the corridor.

The smoke spread instantly, filling the hallway like a stage shrouded in dry ice, creating an ethereal atmosphere.

Lu Mou strode through the haze and entered the office of the Shop Investigation Team.

Inside, Wu Miaoran was bickering with Duan Xiaoyu—mostly because Duan was mocking her idol’s new song.

Wu Miaoran had been intently watching her idol’s live replay on a certain video site, her face twisted in a fangirl’s rapture.

Duan Xiaoyu, however, had his legs propped up on a nearby table, covering his ears and complaining, “You really are a pest. That awful song has played seventeen times in a row. Are you trying to summon an immortal? I’m warning you—keep this up and I’ll cut the power. It’s just some hack propped up by capital. If it weren’t for brainless fans like you, that song would be worth two cents on the street and still get bottles thrown at it.”

Wu Miaoran spun around, eyes blazing with fury. “Shut your filthy crow mouth! You wouldn’t know art if it hit you in the face. No wonder you’ll die alone. Huahua’s musical talent is widely recognized—he doesn’t churn out those cheap, overplayed tunes because he has his own ambitions. If music is just made to please others, to meet the audience’s expectations, then it’s no longer pure. If you don’t understand, then stop talking nonsense!”

“Tch, maybe he doesn’t care about his audience, but does he have to pollute the environment?”

“Ha! Huahua graduated from Han City Conservatory. What right do you have, you uncultured brute, to judge an artist?”

“Oh, is that so? So I need to be a refrigeration expert to judge the quality of a fridge?”

“That’s false logic! Evaluating a fridge is about utility, there’s no threshold. But evaluating art requires an artistic eye. Without artistic accomplishment, you’re not qualified to judge. You have no sense for art, so just keep quiet!” Wu Miaoran grew even more indignant.

Duan Xiaoyu curled his lip disdainfully. “Hey, I’m not the only one who says it—a lot of music critics think he’s trash too. It’s just you fans who can’t admit the emperor has no clothes.”

“Get lost! Huahua doesn’t care about the labels outsiders give him. They just want to remember him!” Wu Miaoran fumed.

Duan Xiaoyu suddenly changed the subject, grinning, “By the way, have you seen that popular article? Latest scientific research shows that plants have their own emotions, just like humans—they can be happy, angry, sad, or joyful, even have self-awareness.”

Wu Miaoran’s anger faded a little, but she snapped, “Don’t change the subject. And don’t you dare insult my idol again!”

“Haha, my point is, some chives now think they’re fans too.” Duan Xiaoyu laughed.

“You’re asking for it!” Wu Miaoran, exasperated, picked up the Fear Prisoner and hurled it at him.

Duan Xiaoyu panicked, reaching for the mask on the table to shield himself, but it was too late.

Lu Mou and Ling Chi had been standing at the doorway for a while. Seeing the situation, Lu Mou quickly blew a smoke ring.

The smoke ring enveloped the snarling Fear Prisoner, suspending it in midair.

“Boss! You’re playing favorites! How can you side with that jerk?” Wu Miaoran protested, kicking and flailing.

“I’ll deal with him later. I’m just worried the Fear Prisoner might not bite hard enough,” Lu Mou replied with a smile.

“Hmph, I don’t believe you! Look, this four-eyed nuisance is always bullying me. I don’t want to be in the same team anymore! When are Brother Lin and Sanmao coming back? I can’t stand him…” Wu Miaoran grumbled.

“Hey, it’s not like I begged to join. If you want me out, I’d be glad to leave!” Duan Xiaoyu shot back, energized by the argument.

“Alright, enough. Lin Yu and Old Third sent word recently—I was just about to tell you all,” Lu Mou said, his tone turning serious.

“Hmph, what are those two up to, acting all mysterious? They ignore my messages but keep you in the loop!” Wu Miaoran pouted.

“Hey, that’s not how you use that idiom. Did you steal Kyle’s idiom dictionary again?” Duan Xiaoyu said.

“Why are you everywhere? You’re so annoying!” This time Wu Miaoran seemed genuinely angry.

“Ahem…” Lu Mou cleared his throat, tapping his pipe. “Let’s stop the jokes—I need to discuss something important.”

Wu Miaoran shot Duan Xiaoyu a furious glare and moved her chair even farther away, focusing her attention on Lu Mou.

Duan Xiaoyu shrugged indifferently.

Lu Mou took a deep breath, then spoke slowly, “I’m sure you’ve all seen the recent stories about the shop-checking taboos—those strange rules, some people even calling the time they take effect ‘Taboo Day.’ There are rumors of collective amnesia that occurred on that day. Lin Yu and Old Third went to investigate this. Following a lead from Little Fish, they found someone who claimed not to have lost their memory on Taboo Day. It was a difficult process.

“Unfortunately, when they finally found the person, he had already committed suicide. Still, it wasn’t a complete loss. By piecing together the clues he left behind, they identified a rather plausible shop-checking taboo—one that matches a pattern Little Fish had previously found among the many deaths of shop streamer hosts, via big data analysis.”

“Oh? Which one?” Duan Xiaoyu asked eagerly.

Lu Mou paused, then replied in a low voice, “This particular taboo isn’t especially malicious or complicated. It’s simply this: Do not engage in false advertising that goes against your conscience.”