The sound of metal hitting the ground brought Chen Hao back to his senses. He looked down and saw his toolbox overturned, with several socket wrenches rolled to his feet. He had been so focused on finding the record of the steel plate he had salvaged from the scrap heap that he had accidentally knocked the toolbox over.

"Ouch, my back!" He bent down to pick it up, his chubby arms getting stuck on the edge of the table. He strained until his face turned red before finally managing to retrieve the last wrench. "This broken table is a whole size bigger than me."

Nana stood in front of the terminal, saying nothing, but simply raised her hand to bring up the energy consumption curve of the workshop's lighting system. The lights brightened slightly.

"Look, I've only just caught my breath, and I'm already starting to mess around again." Chen Hao sat back in his chair and patted his forehead. "The windmill is fixed, the electricity is back on, and I should have been resting for three days, but I got carried away and decided to make plows again."

“Your mood swings are more frequent than the system’s self-check cycle,” Nana said. “I suggest you try some meditation.”

"Stop with the nonsense, all I want to know right now is—can that steel plate be made into a decent little plow?"

He unfolded the crumpled paper and placed it on a glass of cold water that was suspended in mid-air. Several sets of numbers were scrawled on the paper: 120 centimeters long, 35 centimeters wide, and 8 millimeters thick. In the lower right corner, there was a drawing that made it difficult to tell whether it was a cow or a tractor.

Nana reached out and took the paper, her fingertips brushing across its surface. The built-in scanner instantly completed the material analysis and structural feasibility assessment. A three-dimensional model then appeared in the air, showing three different shaped plowshares rotating side by side, with stress simulation data labeled next to them.

“The existing steel plate can be cut into two experimental plowshares,” she said. “If the beveled curved surface design is adopted, the cutting angle is set at 40 degrees, and with the curvature guide plate, the tillage depth in clay loam can reach 18 to 22 centimeters, which is about 37 percent higher than that of a wooden plow.”

"What about the resistance?" Chen Hao leaned closer to the screen and poked the bottom of one of the models with his finger. "Old Wang's ox is almost retired; it can't be pulled no matter how hard you try."

“After optimization, the traction resistance is expected to decrease by 15 percent.” She pointed to the model in the middle, and the lines immediately became smoother. “The key is to reduce soil accumulation and avoid repeated friction.”

"Good heavens, this isn't a plow, it's a SpA for the land." Chen Hao grinned, picked up a pen, and started drawing on the paper. The lines were crooked and messy, like a drunkard's signature, but he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Look, let’s make a simple metal plow first to test the effect.” He said as he drew. “Once it’s successful, the next step is to add a gearbox, connect a small motor, and use the electricity generated by the windmill to drive it—we won’t need oxen to plow the fields anymore; we can let them sit under the shade of a tree and graze.”

“The concept of an electric-assisted plow is valid.” Nana brought up the power matching calculation module. “Based on the current generator’s remaining power, it can sustainably support the operation of two small drive units, with a daily working area of ​​3.5 acres.”

"Three and a half acres? That doesn't even sound like the size of my living room." Chen Hao shook his head. "But it's the beginning, we have to take it one step at a time. We're not aiming for instant success, we just hope we don't get our plowshares broken by the stones in the field."

“The average lifespan of a traditional wooden plow is forty-two working days,” Nana added. “The main breakage points are at the plow neck joint, due to stress concentration and the lack of a buffer structure.”

"Then let's add a 'knee' to it!" Chen Hao slammed his hand on the table, causing the water glass to shake and the remaining watermark at the bottom to form a semi-circle. "Let's add a movable joint in the middle so it can bounce when it hits something hard, just like how a person kicks a stone and then pulls their leg back!"

“A biomimetic obstacle avoidance structure is feasible.” Nana quickly generated a new solution: “Referring to the human knee joint flexion and extension mechanism, adding a spring buffer component can absorb 63% of the impact energy.”

“If it’s too complicated, it will be harder to build.” Chen Hao waved his hand. “We often can’t even get our welding machines to ignite these days, so why bother with something so advanced? Just make a piece of iron that can bend and pry open when it hits a rock.”

Nana made some adjustments, and a new simplified model emerged: the main body was still an integral steel frame, but a pre-cracked groove was set at the root of the plowshare to form a weakened zone. When the resistance exceeded the threshold, it would rise slightly to achieve passive lifting.

"This is great!" Chen Hao nodded, pointing at the model. "It's cheap, sturdy, and won't break. Even if it does break, you can just weld it back together."

"It should be noted that repeated welding can lead to material fatigue," Nana cautioned. "It is recommended to perform a simple annealing treatment after each repair."

Annealing? We don't have a furnace.

"A simple heat treatment process can be simulated by locally heating with a welding torch and then slowly cooling it."

"Alright, let's treat this like giving the plow a hot spring bath." He chuckled. "After all this work, we've finally made some progress. Would you say we've crossed over from electrical engineering to agricultural machinery development?"

"Your occupational category has not been entered into any official system."

"I knew you'd say that." Chen Hao leaned back in his chair, stretched, and his bones cracked. "But it's okay. If I don't have a permanent position, I don't have to pay social security. It's less of a hassle."

Nana didn't respond, but instead broke down the final design into a process checklist: material pretreatment → cutting planning → structural simulation → component assembly guidelines. Each step included key operational points and risk warnings.

"The next step is to confirm the actual processing conditions," she said, "including the condition of the cutting tools, the stability of the clamps, and safety precautions."

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao suddenly sat up straight. "Aren't we in too much of a hurry? What if this plow is made and we can't even push it?"

“We can conduct trial cultivation tests on a small scale.” Nana pulled up a map of the wasteland on the east side of the base. “The soil in this area has moderate looseness, which is suitable for initial verification.”

“But we need to have something to take with us first,” he said, scratching his head. “Otherwise, if we carry a sheet of iron over there, people will think we’re going to build a shack.”

“We can simply make a scaled-down model.” Nana projected a diagram of a 30-centimeter-long miniature plow. “It’s low-cost, quick to process, and easy to iterate rapidly using scrap materials.”

"Brilliant!" Chen Hao's eyes lit up. "Let's make a toy version first to test the waters. If we can't even handle this little thing, what are we talking about with an electric shovel?"

He picked up a pen and wrote a few words in the blank space on the drawing: **First Generation Electric Assisted Plow – Prototype Project Launched**. He even blew on it after writing, as if it were some important document.

"Are you going to start preparing now?" Nana asked.

“Of course.” He stood up, walked to the wall, opened the locker, and pulled out a few scrap metal strips and a rusty steel ruler. “Although it can’t compare to a proper machine tool, at least we have hands and tools. It’s better to be slow than not to do anything.”

"Machining accuracy errors may affect test results."

"What's the big deal about errors? We're not building a space shuttle." Chen Hao gestured with a steel ruler. "As long as it can be buried, can turn over soil, and doesn't fall apart immediately, it's a success. The rest of the problems can be left to the next generation to solve."

As Nana watched him busy at work, the terminal interface automatically switched to the project management view, and a new folder was created and named: "Agricultural Machinery Improvement - Phase One".

“The file has been created,” she said. “Would you like to add a priority tag?”

“Just label it ‘more important than eating’.” Chen Hao glanced back. “After all, once you’re full, you don’t want to do anything else. It’s better to figure out how to make things easier for the cows.”

“Human motivational logic cannot be fully analyzed,” Nana said softly, but still typed that sentence into the notes section.

The workshop quieted down, save for the soft whirring of the terminal fans. Chen Hao lay on the table, sketching the outline of a thin sheet of metal with a pencil, referring to the model on the screen. His movements were slow; he would occasionally stop to squint at the data, then tilt his head to examine the actual object.

"Are you saying this angle really fixed at forty degrees?" he suddenly looked up. "Can't it be thirty-nine or forty-one? How much difference would a degree make?"

“Under ideal conditions, for every degree of deviation, tillage efficiency decreases by one to one and two percent,” Nana replied. “At the same time, resistance increases by 0.7 percent.”

"So precise?" he clicked his tongue in amazement. "You robots really do calculate oxygen consumption even when you breathe."

“I’m just providing reference values,” Nana said calmly. “The decision is still yours.”

"Alright then." He sighed, picked up the ruler again, and said, "Let's go by the standard then, it won't make a difference if it takes a little longer."

He carefully traced the line, leaving a shallow mark on the metal surface. Just halfway through, the pen tip slipped, leaving a crooked line on the metal sheet.

"Ouch!" He shook his hand. "This lousy pen is even less steady than me."

Do you need assistance?

"No need, no need," he waved his hand. "I can do this myself. Just keep an eye on the data for me and make sure it doesn't go astray."

Nana nodded and continued monitoring the parameter matching. On the screen, the model of the miniature plow slowly rotated, its lines clear and its structure complete.

Chen Hao took a deep breath and started drawing the lines again. This time he moved even slower, advancing almost millimeter by millimeter.

“This isn’t manufacturing,” he muttered. “This is cultivation.”

The shadows cast by the windmill blades outside slowly moved across the window frame, illuminating a corner of the workshop. On the table, the blueprint labeled "First Generation Electric Assisted Plow" lay quietly, its edges worn rough by fingers.

Nana spoke softly: "I suggest we do the material pretreatment first."

Chen Hao looked up, his pen hovering in mid-air.