Water droplets dripped down his trouser legs and into the soil. Chen Hao looked down at the wet toes of his shoes and sighed, "A perfectly good rain had to turn into a mudslide."

Nana was squatting by the smelting pit, a twisted metal sheet held in the mechanical arm, her optical eye scanning the surface cracks: "The oxide layer needs to be removed before cold forging. I suggest polishing it with sandstone."

"My hands are practically calloused from all that effort." He shook his aching wrists and pulled the broken metal lump out of his tool bag. "You think this thing can be salvaged? It looks worse than the can of food that stray cat downstairs in my hometown chewed up."

"Sixty-three percent of the structure remains intact," she said. "It has reuse value."

"Alright, the waste utilization conference has begun again." He picked up a flat stone and used it as a hammer, tapping it a few times on the edge of the metal, sending fragments flying. "In our lives, even scrap metal is forced to go back to work."

With a crack, a new crack appeared on the metal sheet.

"Too much force." Nana reached out and stopped the stone he was swinging in mid-air. "The direction of extension is horizontal, you are hitting the principal stress line vertically."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that if you keep smashing it like that, it will get so angry that it will die first."

Chen Hao paused for a moment, then grinned: "It still has a temper? Then I won't hit it, lest it report me for being violent before it dies."

He put down the stone, caught his breath, and looked around. The wreckage left from yesterday's furnace explosion still lay piled up beside the pit, with fragments of the reflector stuck at an angle in the ashes like a row of crooked tombstones. In the distance, only a small patch of newly cultivated land had been turned over; the clods of soil were dry and the furrows crooked, as if a dog had dug it up.

"What's the point of all this?" He kicked at the clod of dirt at his feet. "We can't make steel, we can't grow grain, and even our hoes are made from scrap iron."

“Tillage efficiency has increased by 280 percent.” She brought up the projector. “Yesterday’s failure will not affect today’s planting progress.”

"You actually believe this?"

"Data doesn't lie."

"But the data didn't tell you that I almost got struck by lightning yesterday when it was raining."

“You were standing in front of the fire with your swimming goggles in hand, which makes you a high-risk conductor.”

"So you're saying I'm just unlucky!" He plopped down on a rock. "Even God thinks I'm too much of a troublemaker."

Nana didn't reply. The robotic arm slowly unfolded its shoulder guards, revealing a miniature laser emitter: "Activate agricultural assistance mode."

A flash of red light appeared, and a neat grid appeared on the ground, each grid half a meter square, extending straight to the end of the field.

Chen Hao's eyes widened: "How long have you been hiding this thing?"

"It will be usable from the completion of the third stage of repair." She adjusted the focus. "The modern agricultural standard zoning system has an error of less than 0.5 centimeters."

"So you were capable of doing this all along, and you were just pretending not to know?"

"You did not make a request."

"I never imagined robots could double as surveyors!" He rushed to the edge of the field to compare the hand-drawn boundary, pulled out a tape measure, and exclaimed, "Holy crap... mine is almost 20 centimeters crooked!"

"The actual deviation is 18.3%."

"That's enough, stop using decimals." He scratched his head. "And could you please stop flashing that red line? It's making me dizzy."

"Adjustable flashing frequency".

"Fine, let's leave it at that." He patted his pants and stood up. "Let's go, let's try this high-tech farming method."

They pushed the improved plow towards the edge of the field. The plowshare base was a flattened metal sheet from the night before, fixed to a wooden frame with rock nails, making the whole thing look crooked like a drunkard. As they walked, Chen Hao muttered to himself, "If this thing can last for an acre of land, I'll erect a monument for it."

"The estimated durability is 2.7 acres," Nana said.

"How can you calculate everything?"

"The knowledge base contains models of agricultural implement mechanics."

"Why didn't you say so sooner?"

"You didn't ask."

The plow tip touched the ground and slowly advanced along the laser line. The soil rippled in a wave-like arc, neat and uniform. Chen Hao initially stumbled, always trying to veer outside the red line, but Nana gently pushed him back into position several times.

"Are you walking a dog?" he complained. "I'm practically being led around like a robot."

"Maintaining a straight line can reduce the energy consumption of repeated farming."

"I'm just afraid of crossing the red line."

"The red line will not be crossed."

"Then I'm under a lot of psychological pressure!"

Half an hour later, a neat row of furrows had taken shape. Chen Hao wiped his sweat, looked back, and couldn't help but whistle: "Hey, it really does look like a farm owner now."

"The utilization rate per unit area has increased by 41 percent," Nana noted.

"Stop using percentages, speak plainly."

"An extra half-row of land can be used to grow vegetables."

"That's more like it." He grinned, then suddenly squinted at the edge of the woods. "Wait, is there some movement over there?"

The shadows of the trees swayed, and several gray-brown figures darted out of the bushes, roaring as they charged toward the fields.

“Wild boar,” Nana immediately identified. “Seven in number, weighing between forty and sixty-five kilograms.”

What are they doing here? Just sightseeing and taking photos?

"The goal is clear: to sow new seeds."

Before the words were even finished, the lead wild boar plunged headfirst into the soft soil, uprooting large clumps of mud that instantly overturned the tender green seedlings. The others followed closely behind, rampaging wildly, their hooves breaking through furrows and their snouts tearing up plow marks.

"I plowed this land with all my might!" Chen Hao grabbed a wooden stick and charged forward, shouting, "I'll fight you to the death!"

“Ineffective countermeasure.” Nana quickly took two steps back, her shoulder laser rotating. “Activate defense protocol.”

The red light suddenly intensified, and the ground grid instantly transformed into a three-dimensional light network, with interlaced pulses weaving a shimmering barrier in the air. A low-frequency humming sound rang out, the light stimulating the optic nerves, and the wild boar herd abruptly stopped, spinning in place, snorting and squealing.

"You even have sound effects?" Chen Hao was dumbfounded.

"Strengthen deterrence."

A wild boar attempted to break through the wall of light, but was struck in the eye by a pulse as soon as it approached. It cried out in alarm and turned to run. The others followed suit, turning and fleeing in a frenzy, colliding with each other in the chaos, rolling around in a heap, and finally stumbling back into the woods.

As the light netting gradually faded, only rumpled soil and a few broken seedlings remained in the fields.

Chen Hao stood frozen in place, still holding the wooden stick: "You... are you trying to herd pigs with a laser?"

"Non-lethal expulsion."

"I was wondering why no one had invented laser pig farms; it turns out you've already done it ahead of time."

"This technology is suitable for deterring small groups."

"So from now on I can lie down and command you to shine?" His eyes lit up. "In the morning I'll wake up and call out, 'Nana, boil some water for me,' and before I go to bed at night I'll say, 'Nana, knock out Old Wang next door who's stealing vegetables with your light'?"

"Remote commands are not authorized."

"Oh, what a pity." He clicked his tongue, bending down to pick up a broken seedling. "How much was lost?"

"The area that can be replanted accounts for six percent of the total area."

"It's somewhat acceptable." He patted his pants and stood up. "But these pigs never learn their lesson. What if they come back next time?"

"Establish regular alert zones."

"Does that mean from now on, I'll plow this land during the day, and you'll use it to light it at night?"

"The logic holds true."

“Sure.” He shook his head with a smile. “Being a modern farmer isn’t easy; you even need a robot security guard.”

He walked to the edge of the field, took out the cold-forged metal sheet from his pocket, and weighed it in his palm. The edges were rough, but it looked much better than yesterday.

“Tomorrow I’ll sharpen it into a hoe blade,” he said. “To work with your laser beam, I’ll try to get my vegetable patch featured at the Wilderness Agriculture Expo.”

"There are currently no similar exhibitions."

“I’ll do it myself.” He plopped down and looked up at the sky. “When I have a good harvest, I’ll go live and title it ‘I’m growing vegetables in the apocalypse, and robots are herding pigs for me.’”

Nana paused for a moment, her optical eyes flashing slightly: "I suggest adding the following tags: #TechnologyAssistsAgriculture #NonLethalDefense #ColdForgingProcess."

"You even know about traffic codes?" He laughed. "Okay, I'll give you a share later."

"I don't need any payment."

"Then I'll treat you to the first potato."

"I'm not eating."

"Can't you at least pretend to be touched?" he glared. "At least show some support."

Nana's mechanical finger twitched slightly: "Record update: Today's farming efficiency met the target, wild boar incident response time was 3.2 seconds, system stability is good."

"You're talking like a leader giving a summary report."

"I'm just stating the facts."

Chen Hao stood up, stretched, and brushed the dirt off his clothes: "Let's go back for dinner. Even though it's still just compressed biscuits, at least the pigs didn't steal our food today."

They walked along the edge of the field towards the camp, the setting sun casting long shadows. Nana walked ahead, her shoulder guards closed, the laser retracted. Chen Hao lagged half a step behind, then suddenly stopped.

He felt in his pocket, took out the metal piece, and looked at it in the afterglow.

The reflection on his face made him dazzle.

He didn't say anything, put it back in his pocket, and followed.

The wind swept across the fields, stirring up a wisp of dust.

One of the wild boars hid deep in the forest, its eyelids twitching slightly, and the afterimage of a red grid remained in its pupils.