At the intersection of the red and blue lights of the fill light, before the tip of the vine that had quietly peeked out could extend even a millimeter further, Chen Hao was awakened by a rustling sound.

His eyelids snapped open, and he gurgled in his throat, like a hot steamed bun just pulled from the bottom of a pot, his breath muffled. Still drowsy, his hand instinctively reached for his face, his fingertips brushing against something wet and slippery—sticky, with a slightly fishy smell, like someone had flicked snot onto his cheek.

"What is that?" He frowned, raised his hand and saw a small beetle with a black shell and green stripes flattened in his palm. Yellowish liquid was seeping out of its belly and dripping down between his fingers.

He cried out "Ouch!" and flung the insect away. But as he raised his arm, he heard an even louder rustling sound above his head.

It's not the wind.

It wasn't the leaves that moved on their own.

It's about gnawing.

The edges of the pumpkin leaves were chewed so badly they looked like a dog-gnawed carpet, with jagged edges and exposed veins. Several beetles were perched on the tender shoots, their heads bobbing up and down as if they were clocking in for work, their rhythm steady and unhurried.

"Good heavens, you started working the moment I fell asleep?" Chen Hao sat up with a jolt, almost tripping over himself. His hands were covered in a mixture of insect droppings and mud. "You mediate the plant infighting during the day, and then a swarm of pests launches a terrorist attack at night?"

He grabbed the hoe handle stuck in the ground and started sweeping wildly at the vines. With a series of crackling sounds, the insects fell to the ground, some landing in the dirt and others bouncing into the grass. But in less than ten seconds, new ones crawled out from the back of the leaves, lining up and rushing upwards as if they had received a unified command.

"You're not afraid of being hit, are you?" He panted heavily, then grabbed a handful of soil and sprinkled it on the leaves. The beetles didn't stop at all and continued to gnaw, as if the soil was their condiment.

He scratched his arm, and his skin began to itch and burn, as if he had been pricked by tiny needles. Looking down, he saw several red marks, probably from some kind of secretion from insects.

"Nana! Help!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Have these things mutated? Their skin is thicker than mine!"

Nana was already standing three steps away, her mechanical eyes gleaming with a faint blue light, scanning the entire pumpkin patch inch by inch. She didn't speak; the interface on the inside of her arm automatically popped open, connecting to the monitoring stake at the edge of the field.

"Test complete." She finally spoke. "Lepidoptera, Beetle family, scientific name not yet matched, but behavioral pattern matches 'nocturnal gregarious feeding' characteristics. The chitinous layer of the epidermis is 37% thickened, and conventional repellents are ineffective."

Speak like a human being!

"They are not afraid of you scattering dirt, nor are they afraid of you scaring them."

"Then what should I do? I can't just crush them one by one, can I? I don't want to be a 'bug terminator,' it's a dirty job with no pay."

“I suggest using bioacoustic trapping.” Nana pulled up a waveform diagram, “to simulate the mating signals of female insects, induce male insects to gather in a specific direction, and then contain them with physical traps.”

"You mean...using your voice to lure them over for a blind date?"

"To be precise, it is the acoustic mimicry of pheromone frequencies."

Chen Hao grinned: "You really have wild ideas. What if what you release is 'Happy Breakup'? Wouldn't that cause them all to collectively become depressed and jump into the pit?"

“No.” Nana said expressionlessly. “The database has locked the peak mating frequency band of this population, with the error controlled within 0.1 kHz.”

She turned and walked to the equipment box, opened the lid, and took out four palm-sized black discs with small holes around the edges, like miniature speakers. She squatted down, buried them in the soil at the four corners, connected the wires, and linked them to the main control module.

"Are these speakers?"

"Miniature acoustic emitter, supporting directional focusing."

"So what song are you going to play? 'The Most Romantic Thing'?"

"A continuous pulse wave of 4.72 kHz, lasting 0.8 seconds, with an interval of 1.2 seconds, mimics the sound rhythm of the female insect's vibrating membrane."

"I didn't understand it, but I was deeply moved." Chen Hao scratched his head. "So what should I do? Clap and cheer?"

“It’s a trap.” She pointed to a half-buried plastic bucket by the field, lined with decaying leaves and a little sugar water. “The male insects will be attracted by the signal and fly into the container, unable to climb out.”

"Oh, the matchmaking agency is paired with the funeral home, a one-stop service."

The first round of sound waves was activated.

A slight buzzing sound spread out, almost inaudible, but Chen Hao felt a slight pressure in his ears, like the feeling of pressure change when riding an elevator.

A minute passed.

The two beetles raised their heads, shook their antennae, then spun around in place and flew away.

"Ran away?" Chen Hao's eyes widened. "Is it because the frequency is too low, and she doesn't think it's romantic enough?"

Nana didn't answer. She slid her finger across the panel a few times, fine-tuning the output parameters, and turned off the two fill lights to reduce environmental interference.

The second round has begun.

This time, the sound waves were more stable and the rhythm was clearer.

Three seconds later, a beetle suddenly took off from the leaf, its wings trembling unsteadily, like a mosquito that had drunk too much. It flew crookedly for five or six meters before crashing headfirst into the trap bucket. It fluttered twice and became stuck in the sugar liquid, unable to move.

"Huh?" Chen Hao's eyes lit up. "It actually works?"

Immediately afterwards, the second, the third... insects broke away from the group, flapped their wings and took to the air, all heading straight for the trap.

"My God, is this a mass rush to love?" He squatted by the bucket, watching the insects crash in one after another, like they were attending a free buffet. "Do you think they know they're going there to their deaths?"

“They only recognize signals,” Nana said, staring at the data stream. “They don’t judge the consequences.”

"Then this isn't high technology, it's emotional fraud."

The number of insects in the bucket kept increasing, and a layer of black shells floated on the surface of the sugar syrup. Some were still struggling, while others had already stopped moving. Chen Hao reached out to scoop one out to look at it, but as soon as his fingertips touched the rim of the bucket, a beetle that had managed to crawl to the edge suddenly jumped up and almost jumped into his face.

"Holy crap!" He leaned back, almost sitting in the mud. "They've practically evolved anti-fraud awareness!"

"The initial effectiveness rate is 68%." Nana pulled up the statistics, "but some individuals have already shown avoidance behavior, so we recommend implementing a rotation mechanism."

"What do you mean? Changing the DJ?"

"The frequency combination is switched every two hours to prevent adaptive evolution."

"Got it. We can't keep singing the same song, or the audience will get tired of it."

Nana nodded, flicked her finger, and activated the third frequency. This time, the sound waves were deeper, with a slight vibrato, like a subwoofer from some kind of insect.

The vines in the distance suddenly trembled violently.

A swarm of beetles took flight simultaneously, out of formation, but their flight paths all pointed towards the trap barrel. The sound of them crashing into it was like raindrops hitting sheet metal, a loud crackling sound.

"Wow, that's impressive." Chen Hao grinned. "You're now the matchmaking master of the bug world."

Please do not use non-Chinese words.

"I say you're the matchmaker god, only here to swindle single men."

The bucket quickly filled up. Chen Hao picked it up and headed towards the incineration pit. The bucket bumped along the way, and a few insects that weren't quite dead stretched out their legs from the cracks, scratching at the bucket walls, trying to crawl out.

"Stop struggling." He shook him. "It's easy to get in, but hard to get out. Don't you understand what a love graveyard is?"

The bottom of the pit was already piled with some charred remains. He tilted the bucket, poured the insect corpses in with a splash, and lit it. Flames leaped up, carrying the smell of burnt protein, somewhat like burnt shrimp chips.

He clapped his hands, walked back, and kicked up a collapsed furrow, muttering, "I used to hear that pests were killed with pesticides, now it's all about scams. Technology really does change lives."

Nana stood beside the control post, the robotic arm was being programmed for nighttime inspection, and the optical eye was scanning the remaining area.

“The high-incidence areas have been marked,” she said. “Two more mobile trapping units need to be set up tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll be the mover tomorrow.” Chen Hao wiped his face and found his palms were still a little sticky. “Speaking of which, if we had used this trick earlier, we wouldn’t have to struggle with pesticides every day.”

"Sound waves do not harm plants, do not pollute the soil, and can be reused."

"It's environmentally friendly and saves money, much better than mine." He smiled, bent down to pick up the hoe, and said, "Could you add a voice message next time? Like 'Honey, come see me soon,' to make it more immersive?"

Nana glanced at him, her mechanical eyes flashing slightly.

"Suggestion recorded."

Chen Hao carried a hoe towards the main field, his trouser legs covered in mud and his hands still smelling of burnt food. As he walked, he kicked aside a pebble that was in his way and casually asked, "Do you think they'll be smarter tomorrow and hide when they hear a sound?"

Nana's data panel refreshed with a set of fluctuating curves, with subtle noise appearing at the edges.

She raised her arm and recalibrated the transmitter angle in the southeast corner.

The beetle that had escaped was now clinging to the back of a pumpkin leaf, its antennae twitching slightly.