Chen Hao was awakened by the sound of his knee hitting the wooden box.

He opened his eyes; it was already bright daylight. Rows of blue fluorescent lights hung quietly overhead, like a line of retired electricians. Nana had tightened the loose screw from last night, adding two more turns of duct tape. He rubbed his neck, feeling as if he'd been thrown into a washing machine all night and then half-sold, half-given away, and left here.

“Counting.” Nana stood by the fence, holding a small tablet in her hand, her voice calm and unhurried. “Seven chicks are missing from the chick area on the east side.”

Chen Hao had just taken a bite of his dry rations when he nearly choked. "What?" He swallowed, his voice rising, "It ran away? Or is it dead? Did a stray cat carry it away?"

“The fence is intact, with no signs of tearing or biting.” She pulled up the surveillance footage. “At 3:17 a.m., they walked out on their own—in a line.”

In the video, several chicks are lined up in a crooked row, walking in unison through the grass. The lead chick keeps looking back, as if to make sure no one has fallen behind.

"This doesn't make sense." Chen Hao stared at the screen. "They were pretending to be dead and basking in blue light yesterday, and today they're conducting military exercises?"

“The behavior pattern is abnormal, but the path is regular.” Nana put away the tablet. “It’s ruled out panic escape and is more likely goal-oriented movement.”

"You mean...they have a destination?"

"The probability is over 80%."

Chen Hao looked down at the slipper on his foot—the other one had somehow flown to the top of the feed bucket. He didn't pick it up, but just sighed, "I kept watch for six hours last night, didn't even dare to take a nap, and when I woke up, the chickens were more organized than me?"

Nana didn't reply. Instead, she crouched down, gently parted the bedding with her fingertips, and removed a lingering feather. She held it up to the light for two seconds, then placed it back in her palm. "Environmental scans did not detect toxins or electromagnetic interference; the preliminary assessment is that this is a physiologically driven behavior."

"Translate into human language."

"They are missing something."

What's missing?

"Currently unknown."

Chen Hao rolled his eyes: "So what we're doing now is chasing a bunch of chickens who know more about health than humans?"

"The priority task is positioning."

"What are you going to use to chase it? You think your built-in GPS is usable for chickens?"

Nana turned and walked to the workbench, taking out a rusty communication module from the bottom of a drawer. "A discarded satellite phone part; a miniature electromagnetic transmitter unit can be extracted."

"You want to build a tracker on-site?"

"The size needs to be controlled within three millimeters, and it is suitable for subcutaneous implantation in young poultry."

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao raised his hand. "You said 'implantation'?"

"Superficial subcutaneous injection in the leg causes less trauma than mosquito bites."

"But they're not pathogens, they're live chickens! Is this a poultry farm or a biological laboratory?"

"Given the current limitations, the technical means must be efficient and feasible." She had already begun disassembling the chip. "You are responsible for fixing the target individual."

"I'm not responsible!"

"You just said you wanted to find them."

"I do want to, but not by performing surgery on human chickens!"

"Then provide an alternative."

Chen Hao opened his mouth, then closed it again. He stared at the pile of parts, suddenly realizing a problem: "Where did we get the batteries?"

"Energy is harvested from the micro-vibrations of a chicken walking by using piezoelectric ceramic sheets."

"...Have you robots even calculated how much electricity a chicken generates when it walks?"

"There is a record in the database."

"Just as I expected." He rubbed his forehead. "I knew it."

Ten minutes later, three adult hens were pinned to the operating table, and Nana quickly pricked each of their legs, her movements as swift as grabbing a red envelope. The chickens paused for two seconds, then continued pecking at their food as if nothing had happened.

“Signal activated.” Nana turned on the receiver, and three green dots appeared on the screen. “Synchronization tracking network established.”

"It's that simple?"

"Simple does not mean ineffective."

Chen Hao leaned closer to look at the map, his brows furrowing more and more: "This direction... is it towards the waterfall?"

"Accuracy rate: 91.7%"

"The roads there are so slippery, like they've been greased, and the fog is so thick you could wring water out of it. What were they doing there? Taking tourist photos?"

"Perhaps the answer lies there."

The two packed their meager gear and set off. Chen Hao carried an old backpack filled with half a bottle of water, a pair of multi-tool pliers, and a spare battery. Halfway there, as expected, fog rolled in, clinging damply to their faces like someone had secretly sprayed an invisible layer of snot into the air.

"The signal is stable." Nana walked ahead, holding the receiver. "The distance has been reduced to three hundred meters."

"Did they really fall off the cliff?" Chen Hao asked breathlessly. "I should have bought them accident insurance."

After walking a while longer, the terrain suddenly dropped, and the ground became muddy. They heard the sound of water ahead, not loud, but continuous. Passing through the last patch of bushes, they saw it—

The seven missing chicks were sitting neatly on the edge of a protruding rock, one next to the other, unusually quiet. Some of them were drinking water from a thin stream seeping from a crevice in the rock, the water so clear you could see the bottom.

"We've... arrived?" Chen Hao was dumbfounded. "They've all come to soak in the hot springs?"

Nana immediately took out a sampling tube, filled it with water, and placed it into the portable detector. A few seconds later, the data appeared.

“The water is rich in selenium, zinc, and trace amounts of cobalt,” she said, “which perfectly compensates for the immune-boosting minerals that have been lacking in the feed recently.”

"So they're not running away." Chen Hao slowly sat down, plopping his bottom into the wet mud. "They're... self-healing?"

"More accurately, it is an instinctive self-interest behavior."

"Do they remember this place?"

"It may come from genetic memory or early environmental imprints."

Chen Hao watched the chicks taking turns drinking water and suddenly laughed: "So, 'Brother Lamp' and the others basked in blue light last night and are taking a group vitamin supplement this morning?"

"The logic holds true."

"You really know how to catch my jokes."

"I'm just stating the facts."

He looked up at the gray sky above the waterfall, then down at the chickens who lived a more refined life than he did, and muttered, "Now I'm starting to wonder, who's raising whom?"

Nana puts away the equipment: "I suggest optimizing the drinking water system and adding a mineral replenishment module after the return trip."

"Fine." He stood up, supporting himself on his knees. "But could you at least give me advance notice next time? Let me at least get a full night's sleep."

"The timing of biological instinct triggers cannot be predicted."

"So I'm the one with the most irregular behavior?"

"Current data shows this to be the case."

They started walking back. The fog gradually dissipated, and sunlight barely pierced through the clouds, casting dappled shadows on the muddy ground. Chen Hao walked slowly, his legs aching terribly, each step feeling like pulling up radishes.

Back at the chicken coop entrance, he plopped down on a wooden crate and casually grabbed a handful of feed, scattering it into the trough. The remaining chickens immediately swarmed around, clucking and scrambling for it.

Nana stood to the side, started the self-test program, and the back interface automatically popped open, ready to be connected to the charging port.

"Hey," Chen Hao suddenly looked up, "Do you think they'll run away again tomorrow?"

"If the water source continues to exist and the body's mineral levels recover, the probability of the behavior decreases."

"What if one day they suddenly want to go to the mountaintop to watch the sunrise?"

We will follow up at that time.

"You really do what you say."

He shook his head, took out half a piece of dry rations from his pocket, and took a bite. As he chewed, he suddenly stopped.

His fingers touched something unusual—

Inside the pocket, there was a tiny metal particle that vibrated slightly with the friction of the fabric, emitting an almost inaudible buzzing sound.