The silver pattern on the inner wall of the catheter flashed again under the light, as if urging him to take action. Chen Hao stared at it for three seconds, then slapped his thigh: "Let's not stand there any longer. If we drag this out any longer, even the bugs will be more motivated than us."

Nana was crouching behind the main control panel, inspecting the wiring interfaces. The robotic arm was slightly extended, and the internal gears hummed softly. "The signal path is interrupted, and two-way authentication cannot be established," she said without looking up. "The last section of the data cable is severely oxidized, and the spare module inventory is zero."

"Zero inventory?" Chen Hao grinned. "We're short of everything here, but we're not short of scrap metal recycling stations." He broke the charred tube in his hand in two, scraped off a little silver-gray powder, and rubbed it between his fingers. "Look at this stuff, it's shiny and shiny, maybe it's alien solder."

"The ingredients are unknown and the conductivity has not been tested. Direct use is not recommended."

"If you don't trust me, who else can you trust? We're the only two people on the whole planet who can talk." He squeezed to the front of the control panel, mixed the powder into the conductive glue with a knife, and applied it to the interface. "Besides, your knowledge base doesn't say 'don't try things with mysterious metals,' does it?"

Nana paused for a moment: "There is indeed no explicit ban."

"That's it then." Chen Hao picked up the welding torch, his hand trembled, and he almost poked his own nose. "Holy crap, this thing is harder to handle than my first love..."

A low-pulse current is used to start the circuit, allowing the solder joints to solidify slowly. Nana adjusts the voltage frequency synchronously to prevent high heat from igniting aging circuitry. With a short beep, half a progress bar lights up on the control panel screen.

"The signal has been restored to forty percent," she said. "The bioreactor has not yet been connected."

"Take it slow, you can't rush things—oh wait, we don't even have any leftovers right now." Chen Hao wiped the dust off his face. "Once the purification system is fully operational, the first thing I'll do is cook myself a bowl of instant noodles. I won't even use the seasoning packet, I just want that clean water."

"Instant noodles are not the optimal nutritional combination."

"You don't understand, that's spiritual nourishment."

After another round of debugging, the main control system finally recognized the three-level purification module. The sensors in the hydroponic area successively transmitted data, the temperature and humidity curves in the storage area tended to stabilize, and the crop diversity index jumped from "barely alive" to "surprisingly still able to bloom".

Chen Hao slumped in his chair, his feet propped up on the control panel: "Alright, now even the agricultural experts sent from Earth would applaud. We've turned this barren planet into a model park for the urban-rural fringe."

“The system still has seven level-two warnings.” Nana pulled up the list, “including aging moisture barrier, solar panel tilt deviation, and the high-voltage node you secured with tape last time.”

“Hey, you can’t always focus on the shortcomings.” He waved his hand. “Look at those tomato seedlings over there, so green and festive. The pumpkins are standing tall too, unlike before when they were being chased and beaten by the vines, they all looked wilted like they hadn’t studied for the exam.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the alarm went off.

"The hydroponic platform has detected a risk of root rot, and the automatic drainage program has been activated." Nana quickly locked the valve. "The optical sensor misjudged the situation; mold growth on the lens surface is causing the image to be blurry."

"Is it the dampness again?" Chen Hao jumped up. "This lousy place is so damp you could wring water out of the air."

He removed the sensor housing, vigorously wiped the lens with his sleeve, and casually rummaged through his toolbox for an old filter, cutting it to fit around the edge. "Adding a cover is a temporary fix, but at least it'll reduce the hallucinations it experiences."

"Regular maintenance is recommended," Nana said.

"I received your suggestion. When I retire someday, I will write a book called 'Agricultural Equipment Moisture Prevention Guide' and title it 'How to Make Machines Not Want to Resign Every Day'."

After the system was recalibrated, the drainage stopped. The tender green tomato seedlings were saved, swaying gently in the nutrient solution, as if nodding in thanks.

"Next." Chen Hao stretched. "Shouldn't we add a little ceremony? After all this work, we can't just get 'operating normally' in return, can we?"

"The holographic ecological projection can be activated." Nana brought up the menu. "The display content includes water cycle paths, energy transfer efficiency, and a map of species symbiotic relationships."

"Release! You have to release it!" He slammed his hand on the start button.

The moment the projector lit up, the power surged, and the image tore. The food chain animation got stuck in the middle of the food web, and a virtual aphid hung motionless in mid-air.

“The output is unstable.” Nana switched to low power mode and activated the solar power reserve. “The image will be reconstructed in thirty seconds.”

"Thirty seconds? Wouldn't that put the audience to sleep?" Chen Hao grabbed a marker and drew a crooked circle on the makeshift whiteboard. "Come on, let me give you a crash course first."

As he drew, he muttered, "This is the sun, charging the plants; the plants feed the insects, the insects feed the birds, and the birds' droppings fertilize the fields—it's a closed loop, friends! In the middle, there's also Comrade Nana who occasionally discharges electricity to clean up pests; she's a high-tech cleaner."

Nana looked at the graffiti: "Is it necessary to label it 'There's a bug here, but it's been electrocuted by Nana'?"

"It's absolutely necessary!" He wrote this sentence carefully, adding an exclamation mark. "This is a unique service of our system, it would be a shame not to promote it."

Power was restored, and the holographic image slowly rotated. Clear water flowed through the settling tank, metal ions were adsorbed by the electromagnetic array, and engineered bacteria decomposed toxins in the bioreactor. Green leaves unfurled on the hydroponic racks, grains were neatly arranged in the storage area, and even the land that had been flooded showed healthy microbial activity.

Chen Hao was so engrossed in watching that he finally managed to say, "I never thought we'd actually get it up and running."

“The system name hasn’t been entered yet.” Nana looked at him.

"Hmm?" He turned his head. "What should we call it? 'Doomsday Vegetable Garden'? 'Interstellar Farmhouse'? Or 'The Survivor's Last Stand'?"

"The suggestion is concise and clear."

“Then…” he thought for a moment, then smiled, “Let’s call it ‘Haona Ecosystem’. I’ll be in front, and you’ll be in the back, which fits the ordering habits of human society.”

“The naming logic is reasonable.” She nodded. “It has been entered into the system, version number: Alpha-1.0.”

“Alpha means there’s a beta version, and after the beta version there’ll be a full version.” He leaned back in his chair. “We can upgrade in the future, and maybe one day it will evolve into the ‘Galaxy Five-Star Ecological Demonstration Zone’.”

"Current energy reserves can only support operations at the existing scale."

"You still have to have dreams." He squinted at the hologram. "What if we find a perfectly good spaceship someday? We can just convert it into a fleet of automated fertilizer drones."

Nana didn't reply, but instead pulled up the real-time data stream of the water purification system. Lead and cadmium levels continued to decrease, approaching safe thresholds. The first batch of purified water was being left to stand in the storage tank.

“We can take samples now,” she said.

Chen Hao got up and took two glasses from the cabinet. One of them had a chipped rim; he had found it in the rubble. He filled it with water and handed it to him.

"What are you toasting?" he asked, raising his glass.

"A toast to the machines that didn't explode." She gently clinked her glass.

"And a toast to those of us who weren't killed by the plants." He tilted his head back and took a sip. "Wow, it really doesn't taste like much. It's too clean, which is strange."

"The human body takes about 72 hours to adapt to the taste of purified water."

"So, in three days I'll have completely forgotten what the poison tastes like?" he laughed. "That's good, forgetfulness is a kind of happiness."

He sat back down at the control panel, still clutching the half-full glass of water. The holographic model rotated silently, showing how water, light, and nutrients circulated within the system. He had once thought this land would only devour his efforts, but now, it was finally beginning to give back.

Nana stood to one side, her mechanical eyes constantly scanning various parameters. Several new weld marks appeared on her outer shell, like medals.

"What do you think we should do next?" Chen Hao asked.

"It is recommended to conduct 24-hour stability monitoring."

“Monitoring…” he drawled, “which translates to ‘keep sitting still.’”

"Routine inspections can also be carried out."

"Inspection? You want me to walk?" He exaggeratedly clutched his chest. "I just accomplished a great feat of saving agriculture, now I need to rest."

"Your body fat percentage has not improved."

"Hey, why do you keep nitpicking people's flaws, you robot?" he glared. "Can't you just say 'Well done, Fatty'?"

“Well done, Fatty.” She said in a flat tone.

Chen Hao froze, then burst out laughing: "Oh no, the AI ​​has learned sarcasm—oh, I misspoke, it's 'sarcasm'."

He was smiling when he suddenly caught a glimpse of a red dot flashing in the corner of the control panel. It was the indicator light for the cave probe, which should have been a solid green.

He reached out and pressed the mouse, pulling up the monitoring screen.

Dark red water was still seeping out, but something unusual had appeared around the crack—several slender plants were emerging from the rock crevices, their leaves gleaming with a metallic sheen, their roots entwined around the debris as if absorbing something.

Nana noticed it too. "Abnormal growth rate." She brought up the analysis window. "Component analysis shows that the plant is enriched with nickel, chromium, and titanium, and its structural strength far exceeds that of ordinary crops."

Chen Hao stared at the screen, his smile gradually fading.

The leaves swayed slightly, as if sensing the gaze.