He sat against the rock wall for a while, his arms draped over his knees, looking like a reed with its core plucked out. Nana had already unpacked her backpack and spread the tent frame on the ground, the metal joints creaking.

"Can you still move?" She didn't even lift her head.

“I can, but I don’t want to.” He lifted one foot, the sole of his shoe covered in mud and gravel. “Even an ant wouldn’t want to stay in this place for long, and we’re going to sleep here for the night.”

"The campsite was chosen based on the principles of geological stability and wind direction avoidance," she said, flipping the support frame with one hand with clean and efficient movements. "It's not to please you."

"I know, I know, you're the scientist, and I'm just an exhausted man." He slowly moved over and took a horizontal bar. "Do you think I look like one of those temporary workers? A hapless guy pulled in by high-tech robots to do hard labor?"

“Your vital signs do indeed match the common fatigue patterns of ‘temporary workers’,” she paused, “but there is no database to support this analogy.”

He grinned, almost hitting his foot with the pole in his hand.

The wind suddenly picked up, causing the support frame to sway. He had just tightened one clip when the entire rod was tilted to one side. Nana reached out to stop it, and the robotic arm precisely engaged the node, pressing down gently to lock it in place with a click.

“You really are…” he gasped, “a combination of a human tripod and an electric screwdriver.”

"I simply execute the most efficient solution."

It took them forty minutes to fully set up the tent. The outer layer was windproof and heat-insulating fabric, the inner layer had an airtight zipper, and there was a power outlet in the corner. Chen Hao slumped down in the sheltered spot, holding the water bladder to his chest, took a breath, and found it was warm.

"You even heated the water?"

"The temperature will drop to 12 degrees Celsius at night, so avoid drinking cold liquids to prevent gastrointestinal cramps."

"You even want to interfere with my pregnancy?"

"I just don't want you to cry out in pain in the middle of the night."

Too lazy to argue, he climbed into his sleeping bag and wrapped himself up like a bulging cocoon. His propulsion suit was half-off and hanging beside him; the indicator light on his shoulder flashed red twice, then automatically entered sleep mode.

Nana stood outside the tent, her blue eyes scanning the surroundings. She then took a flat box from her backpack, opened it, and six sensor poles popped out, forming a ring that inserted into the ground. A slight buzzing sound rang out, and a circle of pale red light slowly rotated, like decorative lights from some cheap night market stall.

"Is this a security system?" He poked his head out.

"Infrared + vibration dual-mode monitoring, covering a radius of fifteen meters." She adjusted the panel, "It will emit an alarm sound when a living person is detected approaching."

"Could it be a bird? Or the wind blowing the plastic bag? I don't want to jump out of bed in the middle of the night over a mosquito."

“The possibility exists,” she nodded, “but security protocols require a response to all unusual movements.”

"So I have to be ready to use my hiking pole to swat alien cockroaches at any time?"

This species has not been recorded at present.

"That's exactly what I was afraid you'd say."

After it got completely dark, the wind subsided a bit. The distant mountain shadows sank into darkness, like a pile of burnt-out charcoal. He huddled in his sleeping bag, his eyelids drooping, yet he dared not actually fall into a deep sleep.

“Nana,” he suddenly said, “if you spot something approaching, don’t just yell ‘Enemy situation!’ It’ll scare people to death.”

"I will use the lowest volume prompt."

"It would be best to add the line, 'Don't panic, it's just a mouse.'"

"I will explain if it is confirmed that there is no threat."

He nodded, zipped up his sleeping bag, and closed his eyes.

He didn't know how much time had passed when a soft sound pulled him out of his light sleep.

drop.

The sound was very short, like the sound of a digital watch changing numbers.

He suddenly opened his eyes, his heart pounding in his throat.

Outside the tent, Nana's blue eyes were already glowing. She didn't move, but just tilted her head slightly, her gaze fixed in a certain direction.

A few seconds later, she turned to the edge of the sleeping bag and whispered, "11 o'clock, 9 meters away, heat source moving slowly, body size less than 30 centimeters."

He swallowed hard, his hands and feet feeling numb. "Was it... a large insect? Or a venomous snake?"

“Unable to identify at the moment,” she said, “but the attack warning threshold has not been triggered.”

"So what is it doing now?"

"Standing still, suspected of rummaging through items."

He gritted his teeth and grabbed the trekking pole leaning against him—it was an alloy pole used during the day to secure the ropes, with one end sharpened.

"Are you going out?" she asked.

“I have to check!” he whispered. “What if it’s a thief stealing equipment? Even though there’s nothing here but junk.”

"Food scrap bags were left on the open ground to the west."

"So maybe it's stealing food?" He breathed a sigh of relief, then tensed up again. "But what if it's pretending! It's pretending to gnaw on the packaging, but actually waiting for me to come out so it can pounce on me!"

"Based on behavioral model analysis, the probability of a surprise attack is less than 4%."

“But I still have to go.” He shakily unzipped his pants, revealing one leg. “Otherwise, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

He crouched low as he went outside, and it took him two tries to turn on the flashlight. The beam pierced the darkness, shining directly westward.

A furry little creature was scratching at a food bag with its front paws. It was covered in thorns, its back arched, and it immediately curled into a ball when it heard any noise, like a cactus that had been kicked.

Chen Hao was stunned.

The flashlight beam shone on the spiky ball, and there was half a flattened energy bar package on the ground.

"This is... that terrifying living being?" His voice trembled.

Nana followed, scanning the small animal with her light. "Species classification: Hedgehog-like mammal, omnivorous, nocturnal, no record of active aggression."

"So he's a scavenger?" He put down his trekking pole, both amused and exasperated. "I thought I'd stumbled upon some ancient mountain monster, but it turns out he's just an environmental volunteer?"

“It’s cleaning up organic residue,” Nana said. “From an ecological point of view, it’s a beneficial behavior.”

"So, when I rushed up there with that stick like a miser, I was actually disturbing their work?" He scratched his head. "Sorry, brother, I didn't know you were so dedicated."

The little spiky ball slowly unfurled, glanced up at him with a blank look, and then continued rummaging through the bag.

"It's eating quite diligently." Chen Hao squatted down. "Look at its enthusiasm, it's even more focused than I am when I'm studying my textbooks."

“You’ve never seriously studied your textbooks,” Nana said.

"How do you know? Maybe I memorized the entire political science textbook by staying up all night for the last three days of my senior year of high school."

"The database shows that your graduation thesis was submitted two minutes before the deadline, and the content has an 87% similarity rate."

"You even investigate this?" He stood up, patted his pants, and said, "Fine, I won't argue with you. Anyway, you can dig up my ancestors for eight generations now."

He turned and walked towards the tent, but turned back halfway. "Hey, let it finish eating, don't chase it away."

"It will leave on its own after it finishes eating."

“That’s good.” He crawled into his sleeping bag and zipped it up again. “At least someone is hungrier than me tonight.”

Nana stood outside, continuing to monitor the perimeter. The red light swirled silently, like a circle of small lanterns that would never go out.

He closed his eyes, but couldn't fall asleep. "Do you think... it will come again tomorrow?"

"Individual behavior cannot be predicted."

"I mean, if I leave some food outside, wouldn't that become a system of feeding them at a fixed location?"

"It may attract other similar entities."

“That’s not bad either,” he murmured. “At least it’s not so quiet at night.”

A moment later, he opened his eyes again. "Nana."

"exist."

"Next time you call the police, can you tell me what kind of animal it is first? Don't just say 'there is a live animal,' it scared me into thinking I was about to do a survival show in the wild."

"Next time I will retrieve the image in advance for prediction."

"That's more like it."

He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. "But then again... it's actually quite cute."

Nana did not respond.

In the distance, the hedgehog finally finished the last crumb, slowly moved its body, and disappeared into the crevice between the rocks.

The red light continued to rotate.

The wind blew close to the ground, swirling up a small piece of paper, which twirled twice in the air before falling.

A soft snore could be heard coming from inside the tent.

Nana stood still, her eyes flashing with a faint blue light, maintaining a standby posture.

At 4:17 a.m., the alarm system sounded another short alert.

She quickly turned to the southeast corner, and the optical lens focused.

At the edge of the aperture, a blurry shadow is slowly approaching.

She raised her hand and pressed the communication button, her voice calm: "Chen Hao, wake up."

He groggily lifted a corner of his sleeping bag. "It's here again? Is it a tiger this time?"

“No.” She stared at the screen. “It was that hedgehog from before.”

"It's back?"

"Bring your companions."

He sat up abruptly. "Wait, you mean... it invited its friends over to eat the leftovers?"

"Based on preliminary assessment, it appears to be a family unit traveling together."

"Goodness." He rubbed his face. "I thought I was camping in the wild, but I turned out to be a wildlife canteen manager."