Chen Hao stood against the wall for a few seconds, his hand still pressed against his chest. His breathing gradually calmed down, but his heart was still beating incredibly fast.

Nana's robotic arm had retracted, emitting a soft hum as the anti-gravity device shut down. She stood still, the optical mirror sweeping across his face.

“You were daydreaming again,” she said.

“I know.” He looked down at his feet. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Last time you were just standing there in a daze, this time you fell off the ladder. Your body reacted 0.7 seconds slower than your mind.”

"What can I do?" he said with a wry smile. "I'm not a robot, I can't upgrade myself."

"You can rest."

“I’ve been sitting here all afternoon.” He looked up at the garden. “If I sit here any longer, I’m afraid I’ll really become a vegetable.”

Nana didn't reply. She turned and walked to the control panel, pulling up the real-time data for the vanilla evaporation system. The concentration of Blue Vein vanilla had just reached its peak, and the bittersweet scent in the air was much stronger than yesterday.

"I suggest staying for another twenty minutes," she said. "Cortisol levels haven't completely dropped yet."

"I don't want to stay here anymore." He waved his hand. "I'm going to the control room to see if there are any errors in the irrigation system."

He finished speaking and walked out. His steps were a little dragging, his shoulders were still crooked, and his left shoulder was noticeably lower than his right.

Nana followed.

The lights in the control room were steady, and the curves on the screen were neatly aligned. The irrigation module was functioning normally, and the drainage system was in standby mode. Everything seemed fine.

Chen Hao sat in the chair, tapped his fingers on the table twice, and then stopped.

"You think this thing is really useful?" he suddenly asked.

"What?"

“Planting these grasses helps me relax,” he said.

"The data shows it is valid."

“But I don’t feel any change.” He rubbed his neck. “I just don’t feel like swearing as much anymore.”

"This is progress."

"Progress my ass." He rolled his eyes. "I'm still tired, I still can't remember things, and I still fall off the ladder."

"But when you fell, I caught you."

He was taken aback, then burst out laughing: "You still remember this? I thought you deleted it a long time ago."

"Archive all events."

"So, do you still remember when I poured breakfast into the vent last week?"

"I remember. Misoperation number 321."

"...Do you really have to bring this up?"

"I'm just illustrating the importance of the memory system."

"Alright." He stood up. "Since you say this herb is useful, let's try some other uses."

"for example?"

“Extracting essential oils,” he said. “I’ve seen tutorials; the fragrance of plants can be made into medicinal oils that can make people fall asleep when applied to the temples.”

Nana stared at him for two seconds.

When did you watch the tutorial?

“Last night,” he scratched his head, “I couldn’t sleep, so I browsed databases to pass the time.”

"Do you take the initiative to learn?"

"Don't make it sound so shocking." He pursed his lips. "I know I can't rely on you to save me forever."

Nana accessed the knowledge base and found the vanilla distillation process. The equipment list was simple: heating tank, condenser, collection flask, and temperature controller. There happened to be some spare experimental components in the base's warehouse.

The two carried the materials back to the east greenhouse. Nana assembled the distillation apparatus in a corner, while Chen Hao was responsible for harvesting the raw materials.

He climbed the ladder and cut a bunch of bluegrass. The silvery-blue leaves shimmered slightly in the light.

“This grass grows pretty fast,” he said.

"The light and humidity are well controlled." Nana tightened the last section of pipe. "We can begin."

Chen Hao placed the leaves into the heating tank and poured in water. Nana set the temperature to 85 degrees Celsius to avoid damaging the active ingredients with high temperatures.

“Wait for forty minutes,” she said. “The steam will carry the essential oil into the condenser and eventually drip into the collection bottle.”

"It's that simple?"

"At this stage..."

They sat on the bench waiting. Music began to play—a purely instrumental version of Jay Chou's "Rice Fragrance." The rhythm was upbeat, without the sound of wind chimes.

Chen Hao closed his eyes, then opened them again shortly afterward.

"I always feel like something's missing."

"patience."

“That’s not what I meant.” He frowned. “I think I smell something strange.”

Nana immediately stood up and scanned the distillation apparatus with the optical mirror.

The liquid in the heating tank was boiling, but the steam coming out was yellowish and had a pungent smell.

"Stop heating!" She rushed over and cut off the power.

Chen Hao covered his nose: "What's this smell? It's like rotten onions mixed with disinfectant."

“Stardew roots got mixed in.” Nana opened the jar and picked out a brownish lump. “You threw it in with the sample.”

How was I supposed to know it couldn't go in the pot?

"The root contains irritating substances and releases alkaline gas when heated."

"So we almost got poisoned?"

"Air quality alarm has been triggered, and the ventilation system is operating."

Chen Hao coughed a few times, and his eyes began to sting. Nana pulled him to the other end of the garden and took out some chilled honey from a storage box.

She dipped a cotton pad in a small amount and gently wiped the edge of his eyelids.

"It's cool." He blinked. "It's quite comfortable."

Honey has a protective effect on mucous membranes.

"You really know a lot."

"The knowledge base contains 3,700 emergency response plans."

"Could you please tell me in advance next time which herbs shouldn't be cooked?"

"Now you know."

The air gradually became fresher. Nana re-inspected the equipment and cleaned away any residue.

“From now on, we’ll only use the leaves,” she said. “Roots, stems, and flowers will all be processed separately.”

"I understand." He sighed. "Looks like I'm not cut out for scientific research."

"The first-time error rate is as high as 68 percent."

"You even keep statistics on this?"

"Every attempt has value in being documented."

Looking at the empty collection bottle, Chen Hao suddenly said, "Let's try again."

Are you sure?

“Anyway, I have nothing else to do.” He smiled. “Besides, I don’t believe I can’t cure my insomnia.”

This time, he personally selected the materials, checking every single leaf. Nana supervised from the side, ensuring precise control of temperature and time.

Forty minutes later, the pale yellow liquid slowly dripped into the glass bottle.

"It's oily." Chen Hao leaned closer to look. "Just this little bit?"

"The initial production volume is normal."

"Is this enough for several applications?"

About three times.

"Then use it sparingly." He carefully put the bottle away. "Let's try it once."

Nana took out a small roller bottle, poured in a few drops of essential oil, and diluted it with a carrier oil. She had him sit down and began massaging his temples.

The technique was very light, like drawing circles.

Chen Hao was a little nervous at first, his shoulders tense. After a few minutes, his breathing gradually became deeper.

"Your hands... are quite nimble."

"Simulated Human Massage Program, Version 7".

"Don't explain, it affects the feeling." He closed his eyes. "Just like that, don't stop."

Ten minutes passed, and his head kept nodding; he was almost asleep.

Nana stopped what she was doing.

"How was the result?"

"I'm sleepy." He yawned. "It feels more natural than taking sleeping pills."

"I recommend using it before bed tonight."

"Okay." He stood up and stretched his neck. "I didn't expect this herb to actually be useful."

"You've started to believe."

“It’s not about believing,” he shook his head, “it’s about feeling something is different.”

The following evening, Chen Hao voluntarily went into the garden.

He held a roller bottle in his hand, squeezed out a few drops of oil, and applied it to his temples. Then he sat down on the bench and closed his eyes.

Nana stood not far away, and monitoring data showed that his heart rate was decreasing and his muscle tension was decreasing.

"I didn't fall today, and I didn't get distracted," he said. "Does that count as progress?"

"Calculate."

"And what about the reward?"

What reward do you want?

"Play some new songs tomorrow?" He opened one eye. "I'm tired of Jay Chou."

"You can change the playlist."

“Then let’s change it.” He closed his eyes again. “I hereby announce that herbal therapy will be officially added to my daily wellness routine.”

Nana didn't say anything. She simply marked today's record as "intervention response successful" and updated the volatile release plan for tomorrow.

The garden lights dimmed, and the shade netting automatically closed. Chen Hao leaned back in his chair, his breathing steady.

The massage oil bottle was beside me, and it was half full.

His fingers were loose, his palm facing upwards.