After the arc went out, a wisp of smoke still rose from the welding torch. Chen Hao shook his wrist, pushed his goggles up, and secured them to his forehead. He stared at the pile of metal in front of him for three seconds, then sighed, "If this machine could still move, I'd smash it right here and now."

Nana stood beside her, the terminal interface displaying the newly generated 3D model. "Structural integrity has met the standards; the transmission system awaits verification," she said. "I suggest initiating the testing program."

"You make it sound so easy." Chen Hao bent down to inspect the gear set, his fingers brushing against the gear teeth, getting his hands covered in black oil. "Last time during the test run, I almost threw the main shaft off. I want to live a few more years."

He crouched down, loosened the guide rail fixing bolts, and rummaged through the parts basket to find a few thin pieces of sheet metal, which he then placed under the spindle box. As he tapped it, he muttered, "Too high won't do, too low won't do either. This thing is more picky than I am when it comes to choosing a partner."

Nana pulled up the stress simulation diagram: "The current error value is 0.3 mm, which is still within the safe range. Adding another shim may cause stress concentration in the base."

"I'll listen to you." He stopped what he was doing and brushed the metal shavings off his pants. "It's just adjusting the height, why are you making it sound like surgery?"

He tightened the bolts again, stood up, and clapped his hands. "Come on, let's give it a try."

The power was turned on, and the motor hummed. At first, no one dared to move; both men stared at the spindle head.

The gears turned slowly, making a slight clicking sound. There were no unusual noises or shaking; the guide slider moved smoothly upwards along the track.

"It...switched?" Chen Hao stared wide-eyed.

"The system is operating normally," Nana said. "The vibration amplitude is below the threshold and we are continuously monitoring it."

Before he could finish speaking, the motor suddenly screeched, and a wisp of white smoke billowed from the meshing of the gears.

Chen Hao slammed the emergency stop button, and the room immediately fell silent.

"What did I tell you?" he said with a wry smile. "I just praised you once, and you started acting like a sob story."

Nana's scan data: "Insufficient lubrication is causing localized overheating. It is recommended to increase the frequency of grease supply."

“The problem is we don’t have an automatic fuel supply system.” He opened the gear cover and looked at the blackened gear teeth. “Now even doing it manually is too much trouble.”

He found a discarded IV bottle, removed the tubing, and taped it to a stand, attaching a dropper to the other end and aligning it with the gears. "Emergency plan: manual IV therapy, three times a day, on time every time."

Nana paused for two seconds: "The suggested name for this device is 'Continuous Lubrication Assist System'."

"Just call it 'Drip Hero'." He unscrewed the cap and poured in engine oil. "Anyway, it's all about being kept alive by an external plug-in."

The second start-up was much smoother. The spindle rotated steadily, and the saw disc rose slowly, leaving a silver streak in the light.

"It's done!" Chen Hao slapped the machine's casing. "It may be ugly, but as long as it can breathe, it's a good comrade!"

Nana simultaneously records the operating parameters: "Cutting preparation complete. Begin first piece processing?"

"Let's do it." He picked up a steel plate and placed it on the workbench. "First cut, a sacrifice to the heavens."

The steel plates clamped together, and the cooling nozzles began to drip water. Chen Hao took a deep breath and pushed the feed lever.

Sparks flew the moment the saw blade touched the metal. The motor speed dropped noticeably, but it didn't stop.

"Slow down," he muttered to himself. "I don't care about speed, I just hope it doesn't explode."

They would advance the incision every half centimeter, then stop and wait for it to cool before continuing. Ten minutes later, the incision had penetrated to one-third of its depth.

"With this kind of efficiency, farming is less profitable than selling time." He wiped his sweat. "But at least I'm not banging my head against a steel plate anymore."

Nana advised: "The remaining depth is 1.2 cm. It is recommended to reduce the feed rate in the final stage."

"I know, I know. It's like giving birth. The last part is the most dangerous."

The final cut took eight minutes. When the saw blade completely pierced the steel plate, Chen Hao almost knelt down.

"It's done!" He held the finished product up to the light to examine it. "The edges are neat, and the thickness is uniform—this old machine of ours can actually do a job!"

Nana's scan dimensions: "Error ±0.5 mm, in line with the experimental plow design standards."

"Then let's not waste any more time." He picked up the plate and walked toward the soldering station. "Strike while the iron is hot and finish the plowshare."

The welding process went more smoothly than expected. He cut the shape according to the drawings, sharpened the blade, and reinforced the back with angle iron. The weld was a little crooked, but it was sturdy.

"Its appearance is good enough to enter a beauty pageant." He blew away the welding slag. "As for its practicality, if it can be stuck into the ground, it's a win."

There was a slight mishap when installing the wooden plow frame. The connecting bolt holes didn't align, and they got stuck halfway through tightening.

"Who drew this diagram?" He used a file to smooth the holes. "Are you sure this is the same set of data?"

“The drawings are correct,” Nana said. “It’s probably due to slight deformation of the material during processing.”

"Why do your robots always sound like they're trying to shift blame?" He struggled for a while before finally screwing the bolt in. "Next time, could you add a note saying 'Human error is allowed'?"

After installing the last nail, he picked up the plow and walked to the door. The sunlight was perfect, reflecting off the newly welded iron sheet.

"Let's go inspect the goods."

The experimental field was right behind the workshop, a small plot of land, about the size of a palm. It had been plowed once before with an old plow, and the soil was so shallow that you could see the grass roots from last year.

Chen Hao attached the tow rope to the plow frame, while Nana held the plow steady. He gave the command "Go!" and the two pulled forward together.

The plowshare veered off course the moment it touched the soil, veering sharply to the left and nearly pulling him down.

"Who can drift while plowing their own field?" He steadied himself. "The angle is wrong. This isn't tilling the soil; it's just tickling the ground."

Nana checked the burial situation: "The current tilt angle is 23 degrees, which is higher than the optimal value. It is recommended to adjust it to 18 degrees."

How do I adjust it?

"A gasket can be added below the connection point."

He went back to the workshop and found two thin pieces of iron, which he then inserted into the bottom of the plow frame to re-secure it.

The second time it was put into the ground, the plow was much more stable. It entered the soil smoothly, and the turned-up ridges were continuous and curled, with a significantly greater depth than the old plow.

"Ouch?" Chen Hao's steps became lighter and lighter. "This thing is actually quite powerful."

I walked back and forth for ten meters three times, and the whole plot of land was almost completely turned over. The turned soil was black, shiny, and soft, like a freshly baked cake.

He put down the plow, squatted down by the field, and dug a handful of soil. "Before, I had to rest three times after plowing once, but now... I even have the energy to smoke."

Nana collected data: "The average tillage depth increased from 4.7 cm to 8.9 cm, and the resistance decreased by about 31%. The soil breakage rate met expectations."

"So, in the future, we won't need one ox and three overseers to finish the work?" He grinned. "Isn't that better than hiring people?"

He stood up and stretched his shoulders, and suddenly noticed a thin crack on the edge of the plowshare.

"Tsk, looks like we need to change the materials." He touched the crack. "The boards we used this time are too thin; they can't handle heavy work."

“We have thicker wear-resistant steel in stock,” Nana said. “It can be used as a replacement.”

"No rush." ​​He shook his head. "Let's get this process running first. We don't lack materials right now, we lack mass production capacity."

He leaned the plow against the edge of the field, took out a marker, and wrote a few words on the back of the wooden frame: **First Generation Electric Assisted Plow - Prototype - Passed Initial Testing**.

After he finished writing, he drew a smiley face.

Nana asked, "What's the next step?"

“Of course we’ll build another one.” He patted his homemade cutting machine. “One isn’t enough; two is what production is. More than three—that’s just a small workshop.”

He turned and walked toward the workshop, humming an off-key tune.

Nana followed behind, and the terminal automatically synchronized the test report. A prompt popped up on the screen: "[It is recommended to optimize the power transmission module to support continuous operation]"

Just as she was about to speak, Chen Hao suddenly stopped.

"Wait a minute." He turned around. "Do you think if we added a foot pedal to this machine, it would free up the space for manual material handling?"

“It’s technically feasible,” she said. “We just need to add a linkage control circuit.”

“Then add it.” He rolled up his sleeves. “Anyway, there’s nothing else going on today.”

He pulled out a relay board and rummaged through the scrap heap for a piece of copper wire. Just as he was about to connect it, the fluorescent light overhead flickered twice and went out.

"Another power outage?" He looked up. "This damn circuit is more fragile than my life."

Nana detected the following in the power supply system: "Overload. The current total power of the equipment exceeds the line's maximum capacity by 12%."

"So we can't turn on the lights and the machines at the same time?" he sighed. "So we can only work during the day?"

He removed the relay and casually placed it on the table. The lights flickered, making the entire workshop look like a stage that could fall apart at any moment.

He picked up a screwdriver and bent down to tighten the terminal block.