As dawn broke, Chen Hao squatted beside the windmill base, wrench in hand, staring blankly at the main beam that looked askew, as if someone had stepped on it. They had agreed to start work at six last night, but he arrived at five-thirty, not because he was eager to start, but because Nana had woken him up at three in the morning, saying that the wind direction had changed and they had to finish the first phase of dismantling before ten in the morning.

"Why did you have to call me when I was dreaming about eating barbecue?" he muttered as he used a hydraulic jack to brace against the deformed steel frame. "In my dream, the skewers of lamb were just being cooked and sizzling with oil—and you came out with 'The structural stress release window is only forty-seven minutes away.'"

Nana stood three steps away, the scanner twirling in her hand. "Dreams don't have engineering priority. Now, apply pressure."

"Fine, fine, reality is always better than dreams." He gritted his teeth and pushed the hydraulic lever, the metal groaning dully, like someone coughing inside a tin bucket.

The main beam slowly lifted, and the jammed, broken support rod finally loosened, leaving a gap about an inch wide. Chen Hao wiped the sweat from his forehead and said breathlessly, "This thing is welded together like brothers; if you want to take it apart, you'll have to go through divorce proceedings first."

"I suggest you talk less and exert more force." Nana brought up the holographic interface, where a red dot flashed. "The left connector is still 0.8 millimeters misaligned. Keep pushing it open."

He did as instructed, his arm trembling as if electrified. Finally, with a "click," the broken part came off. He plopped down on the ground, casually tossing the wrench into the tool pile with a loud clang.

"Now that it's been dismantled, shouldn't we burn paper money for it to pray for its soul?"

“The next step is to clean the work area.” Nana walked over and marked the remaining connection points with a laser pointer. “There are seven rusted bolts that need to be removed, which is expected to take forty-one minutes.”

"You're really accurate; you even factored in the time I spent in the bathroom?"

“Not included.” She paused. “Because you haven’t submitted an application yet.”

Chen Hao rolled his eyes, but still got up and continued working. The sun rose higher and higher, and the iron frame was so hot that you could fry an egg on it. He took off his coat and tied it around his waist. His sleeves were covered in grease and mud, and his face was smeared with black ash. He looked like a refugee who had just escaped from the boiler room.

The two worked in perfect harmony—he did the work, she gave the instructions. Coolant was sprayed onto the hot bolts, hissing and emitting white smoke, and when they were turned, they made a long-lost loosening sound. Pieces of the remaining parts were moved down and piled up beside the base, like a heap of steel remains.

"Clearance complete." Nana put away the equipment. "We can proceed with the correction process now."

Chen Hao wiped his face and looked up at the main beam: "You know, it's crooked like this. If we straighten it, will it hold a grudge? It'll creak and groan in the middle of the night and scare me to sleep."

“Metal has no emotions,” she said, “but it gets tired.”

"So I'm the one who's emotional and tired?"

"The conclusion is correct."

He sighed and turned on the laser rangefinder. Nana started the calibration model, and a curve appeared on the screen.

"Each adjustment must not exceed 1.2 millimeters, and the error must be checked at intervals."

"Your standards are even stricter than the points deducted from my college entrance exam essay."

"The National College Entrance Examination (NCEE) is not currently on the task list."

"Sigh, I miss the days when I failed my courses." He shook his head and smiled bitterly, beginning to apply pressure in stages.

Time passed slowly. Chen Hao, like a watch repairman, would adjust it a little, pause, wait for the data feedback, and then fine-tune it again. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, hitting the steel plate and evaporating instantly.

"The curvature of the third segment meets the standard," Nana said.

What about the fourth paragraph?

"The deviation is 0.25 degrees, which is still within the tolerance."

"Tolerance my foot! I'm practically a pro at tightening screws." He cracked his knuckles. "Are we fixing a windmill or setting bones for an iron rod?"

“It falls under the category of structural repositioning procedures,” she said without changing her expression. “The similarity to osteopathy is 63.7%.”

"You actually competed?"

"There are relevant cases in the database."

I didn't take a lunch break, just grabbed a couple of bites of an energy bar and kept working. At 2 PM, the main beam finally returned to its straight position, and the projected model turned from red to green.

"Cold School Direction is complete," Nana announced.

"That's great." Chen Hao plopped down and looked up at the towering tower. "It's finally standing up straight, unlike me, who's been leaning forward for ten years because of my weight gain."

"Your posture issues are not within the scope of this project."

"Don't think I don't know you're subtly criticizing me."

Next, the triangular stabilizing structure needs to be installed. The four sets of inclined cables need to be precisely anchored, but the pre-buried holes in the ground have shifted due to vibration and cannot be aligned.

"This is troublesome." Chen Hao squatted on the ground and gestured. "It's at least five centimeters off; if we try to catch it directly, it will definitely break."

Nana re-measured the coordinates and, after a moment, offered a solution: "Add a transition flange to compensate for the offset."

"Easier said than done, where will the flange come from?"

"The warehouse has scrap steel plates, and the thickness is appropriate."

"More on-site processing?" he sighed. "I feel like I'm not an engineer, but a small-time scrap metal recycling business owner."

But he still carried the cutting machine to the warehouse. Sparks flew as the steel plates were cut into sections, the edges were ground, and then welded together. As he worked, he hummed his self-composed song, "Striving Little Strong," though he was still severely off-key.

Nana stood by, supervising the work: "I suggest changing the background music."

"You can voice your opinions, but you cannot interfere with creative freedom."

"I'm just worried that the wild animals in the vicinity might mistake it for an attack."

"Then go and comfort them."

The flange was made and transported back to the site for installation. Chen Hao climbed onto the scaffolding, holding onto the plate with one hand and tightening the bolts with the other, his movements becoming much more skilled. As the last bolt was tightened, the setting sun shone directly on the newly installed cable, reflecting a silvery light.

"Done." He jumped down, brushing the metal shavings off his pants. "Now this thing can hold up even in a Force 14 hurricane, right?"

"Theoretically—"

"Stop!" He raised his hand. "Don't talk about theory. How many times have we been fooled by theory? Last time you said 'the probability of structural stability is 91.3%,' and it collapsed in the middle of the night."

"The redundancy of this design has been increased to 40%, and a dynamic tension monitoring module has been added."

"That sounds more plausible." He scratched his head. "But I still think our windmills have a tough life, always on edge about dealing with strong winds."

"All reliable systems go through an unreliable phase."

"That sounds more like something a human would say."

By evening, the physical repairs were mostly complete. But Nana didn't let him rest.

"The power generation module needs to be upgraded simultaneously."

"Huh? Didn't we agree to build the skeleton first and then install the heart?"

"The storm caused water to enter the original device, resulting in a short circuit, making it unusable."

Chen Hao lifted the protective cover, revealing a thin layer of salt crystals on the circuit board, clearly left behind after rainwater evaporated. "Good heavens, it's even pickled itself."

“The power supply unit needs to be rebuilt.” Nana pulled up the design drawings. “It will use a miniature voltage regulator and rectifier system, a double-layer sealed chamber, and an automatic drain valve.”

"It sounds like putting a raincoat on a generator."

"The functional analogy holds true."

They removed the old components and reassembled the core module using spare parts. Chen Hao was in charge of soldering, while Nana calibrated the parameters. During the process, he almost soldered the diode backwards, but she stopped him in time.

Do you want it to generate electricity or discharge electricity?

"It was just a slip of the hand."

"A slip of the hand can affect the lifespan of the system."

"Why don't you write 'Don't accidentally touch me' and stick it on my forehead?"

Finally, the new module was encapsulated and passed the waterproof test. As night fell, the entire windmill looked brand new: the main beam stood tall, the cables were taut, and the blades were still yet poised to unleash their power.

"Final step, self-check." Nana connected to the terminal.

Chen Hao stood beside the base, hands in his pockets, watching the scrolling green notifications on the screen.

"Structure stable... Transmission normal... Power module awaiting activation..."

Suddenly, the alarm flashed softly.

“The cable tension distribution is abnormal, with the left side being 12% lower.”

"Again?" He frowned. "Didn't we just balance it?"

"It's affected by thermal expansion and contraction," she said. "The tension of the winch needs to be fine-tuned."

"Okay, you tell me how to do it."

Nana remotely controlled the winch, which slowly tightened. Chen Hao climbed onto the support frame and used a sensor to check the stress value of each cable.

"The first one...okay. The second one...not bad. The third one...wait, this number is wrong!"

"Hold the position, I'll adjust it again."

A gust of wind blew, causing the steel frame to sway slightly. He gripped the railing with one hand and steadied the instrument with the other.

"And now?"

"Still 3% too low."

"Is it really worth all this trouble just because it's so close?"

“3% could trigger a chain reaction of changes.”

"You're such a detail-oriented person." He sighed and moved to the next node. "Come on, one last time."

The winch started working again, and the metal wire made a slight stretching sound. The sensor readings slowly rose and eventually stopped in the green zone.

“The tension of all six cables is consistent,” Nana said. “The structure is stable and allows for grid connection.”

Chen Hao climbed down from the steel frame, covered in grease, his clothes wrinkled like dried pickled vegetables. He unscrewed a bottle of water, took a big gulp, and then handed it to Nana.

She took it, but didn't drink it. She just nodded slightly, her fingertip hovering above the confirmation button on the terminal.

The morning light gently falls on the edges of the newly adorned blades, casting a thin golden line. The windmill stands silently, as if it had never fallen.

He stood beside her, gazing at the tower that was about to be restarted, and suddenly smiled.

"If it had consciousness, wouldn't it feel like it's been reborn?"