Chen Hao, leaning on the iron plow, was panting like a leaky bellows. He had just finished walking along the ridges of the field, his feet sinking half an inch into the loosened black soil, pulling his shoes out with a trail of wet mud.

"This time it was really easy." He grinned and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Before, I would have to rest three times after twenty meters, but now I can finish it in one go and I feel like I could do another one."

Nana stood at the edge of the field, the robotic arm turning slightly, the terminal screen flashing with a stream of data. "Tillage efficiency remains at 88.7%, traction fluctuation range is ±3.2%, and there are no fatigue cracks in the structure." She paused, "but the soil pH has dropped to 5.9, a decrease of 0.6 from yesterday."

"Hmm?" Chen Hao tilted his head. "It's sour? Did you get caught in the rain?"

“Excluding the impact of precipitation, the oxidation reaction of iron after it enters the soil accelerates the release of calcium, magnesium, and aluminum ions, leading to an increase in hydrogen ion replacement.” Her voice remained calm. “If the current farming pattern continues, the topsoil will experience aggregate disintegration within three months, and the root penetration resistance will rise to a critical threshold.”

Chen Hao's smile slowly faded as he looked down at the glistening black soil beneath his feet, as if he had suddenly discovered that the rice in the pot had burned at the bottom. "So, this plow isn't for planting, it's for digging holes?"

“Technological intervention is often accompanied by unintended side effects.” Nana pulled up a set of bar charts, “During the wheat expansion period of the North American Great Plains in the 19th century, excessive plowing also triggered the ‘Black Storm’ ecological disaster.”

"Stop, stop." He waved his hand. "I don't want to listen to history lessons. I want to know what to do now. The ground has already been turned upside down; we can't just let it turn back on its own, can we?"

“I suggest introducing a buffer mechanism.” She pointed to the rabbit hutch not far away. “Among the existing organic matter resources, rabbit excrement has a moderate carbon-nitrogen ratio. After decomposition, it can enhance the soil’s cation exchange capacity and slow down the acidification rate.”

Chen Hao's eyes lit up: "You mean... use rabbit poop to save the earth?"

"To be precise, it is about building a biological-mineral synergistic regulation system."

“Alright, then let’s be manure collectors.” He planted the plow in the field, patted the mud off his pants, and said, “Anyway, my clothes are beyond saving.”

---

Half an hour later, the two squatted on the open ground outside the rabbit shed and sifted through the droppings.

Chen Hao carried a makeshift filter made of wire mesh in one hand and grabbed a handful of dried rabbit droppings with the other, pouring them onto the filter. Fine particles fell down, while coarser ones got stuck on top.

"You're saying these little guys eat grass and poop every day, yet they can still change the fate of the soil?" He shook the sieve. "Do they even know they're participating in building the ecosystem?"

“They lack self-awareness.” Nana used a robotic arm to pick up a clump of humus sample, “but their digestive system can effectively decompose cellulose and produce ammonia-rich organic matter, which is extremely beneficial for improving heavy clay soils.”

"Now that you mention it, I'm almost tempted to give them certificates of merit," Chen Hao said, piling the sifted manure into small heaps. "Should we hold an award ceremony next?"

"Prioritize completing fertilization operations."

The two men carried a makeshift stretcher made of wooden planks to the edge of the field, scattering the well-rotted compost. As he did so, Chen Hao muttered to himself, "I used to avoid it because of the smell, but now I'm spreading it with my own hands. Life is truly full of unexpected turns."

After the fertilizer was spread evenly, the iron plow went down into the ground again.

This time, the plow tip cut into the soil mixed with fertilizer, and what was turned up was no longer just plain black soil, but a loose layer of soil mixed with fine, brownish organic particles. The soil made a soft sound as it fell along the edge of the furrow, like dried bean pods bursting open.

“Porosity increased by 41%.” Nana stared at the terminal. “The granular structure has been initially formed, and air permeability and water retention have improved simultaneously.”

"It sounds like the medical report has improved." Chen Hao stopped, leaning on the plow handle and catching his breath. "This time, surely nothing unexpected will go wrong, right?"

“Short-term indicators are stabilizing.” She pulled up the simulation curve. “If this cyclical rhythm is maintained, the crop growth cycle is expected to shorten by 15%.”

"Hey, what a lucky break?" He slapped his thigh, almost choking on his own slurry. "Speeding up the plow and using manure to protect the soil, a two-pronged approach!"

"Reminder: The pH value is still fluctuating at the critical level and needs to be continuously monitored."

“I’ve got it.” He looked up at the end of the field. “As long as the meals can be served on time, we can change the rest later.”

---

As the sun began to set, the second round of tilling was nearing its end.

Chen Hao dragged the iron plow to the edge of the field and wiped the blade with a rag. The mud was dry and could be easily scraped off, but some areas of the metal surface had faint yellow spots.

"Rusty?" He poked at the stain.

“Normal oxidation phenomenon.” Nana scanned it. “The high-strength alloy has an anti-corrosion coating, and the current loss rate is less than 0.3%, which does not affect its service life.”

“I thought it would shine forever,” he muttered, stuffing the cloth into his tool bag. “Looks like even the best thing can’t withstand dealing with dirt every day.”

“All tools wear out,” she said. “The difference lies in whether they are used properly.”

"You're talking like it's some kind of philosophy of life." He shook his aching shoulders. "But you're right, we can't just rely on an iron plow to sweep the world. We need to use our brains more and be less reckless in the future."

Nana did not respond; the optical lens turned to the distant horizon, and the data stream scrolled rapidly across the terminal.

Chen Hao sat down, took off his shoes, and poured out two handfuls of mud and sand. "If this land can really grow good crops, wouldn't we have done something worthwhile?"

“You have completed a cognitive leap from passive response to proactive control.” She looked away. “This is a key milestone in the upgrade of the survival system.”

"Don't praise me, I'll get carried away." He put on his shoes, stood up unsteadily, and said, "Let's go back and wash up. We still have to take care of this land tomorrow."

He reached out to pull the iron plow stuck in the ground.

The moment my fingers touched the handle, the soil around my feet suddenly caved in slightly.

A small piece of loose soil fell down, revealing a thin crack underneath. The crack wasn't deep, but its edges were clean, as if it had been cut open by something sharp.

Chen Hao paused for a moment, then squatted down and dug away the surrounding soil.

Buried beneath is a curved piece of metal, its surface covered with corrosion marks, its shape irregular, yet its curvature is faintly discernible—like a fragment of some large machine, long neglected and half-melted in the soil.

"Where did this thing come from?" He rubbed the metal with his finger, and a layer of grayish-green powder got on his fingertip.

Nana moved closer to the scanner. "The composition contains titanium, vanadium, and zirconium, and the crystal structure is abnormal, indicating it is not a product of local smelting processes."

"We didn't do it?"

"The possibility of recent artificial implantation has been ruled out. The burial depth matches the geological sedimentary layer, suggesting that it has existed for more than thirty years."

Chen Hao stared at the wreckage, then looked at the iron plow in his hand. "So the first thing this plow turned up wasn't an earthworm, nor a rock, but a piece of scrap metal of unknown origin?"

“It’s always been here,” Nana said. “You’re just digging it out now.”

Chen Hao was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed. "Alright, consider it unlucky to have caught up with our agricultural revolution."

He dug out the fragments and casually tossed them into his tool bag. "I'll burn them to make some more materials when I get back; it's good to make use of waste."

Nana's screen flickered slightly. "It is recommended to store this sample separately, as its background radioactivity level is slightly high."

"Huh?" He paused. "You mean...it can generate electricity?"

"No harmful radiation has been detected so far, but the molecular vibrational dynamics are unstable and require further analysis."

"Well, I only wanted to dig up a piece of land, but I ended up finding a time bomb." He patted the bag. "Luckily, I have you, otherwise I'd probably be writing my will right now."

“There’s no need to worry,” Nana said calmly. “As long as we don’t dig any deeper, the risks are manageable.”

Chen Hao nodded, shouldered the iron plow, and walked back. The setting sun cast a long shadow over him, and the metal scraps in his tool bag clinked softly with each step.

When he reached the last meter of the field, he suddenly stopped.

The newly turned ridge behind me lay quietly in the evening breeze, and a few faint reflections flashed by in the cracks of the soil—like moist mineral particles, or like some kind of crystal that shouldn't exist in the soil.

He didn't turn around or say anything; he just gripped the plow handle on his shoulder.