Chen Hao squatted beside the half-buried rock, his hands still clutching the dirt. He looked up at Nana: "This thing is really something else?"

Nana didn't speak, but simply placed the stone in her palm, her fingertips tracing its surface, and the blue light in her eyes flashed much faster than before.

“Confirmed,” she said. “It contains rare metals, with a content of 6.3%, and belongs to a high-purity associated mineral vein.”

"What do you mean?" Chen Hao patted the mud off his hands. "Can I exchange it for money?"

“No.” She put the stone away and placed it in a sealed bag. “But it can be used to make parts, repair equipment, and improve the base’s operational efficiency.”

Susan walked over and looked at the bag: "Are you sure it's not a stone that has come to life? I've never seen this kind of mineral in this area before."

“Database records show that such mineral deposits are mostly found in deep geological fault zones,” Nana said. “There may be an undiscovered vein beneath our feet.”

Chen Hao grinned: "So, have we struck gold? We can rename ourselves the 'Mining Commando Team'."

“You can barely walk now, and you still want to start a mine?” Susan slung her backpack over her shoulder. “Carry yourself back first.”

"I'm your pillar of support." Chen Hao slowly stood up, patted his pants, and said, "Without me, you wouldn't even know what a rock looks like."

Nana put the sealed bag into her bag and adjusted the shoulder strap. Her robotic arm made a slight clicking sound, like gears recalibrating.

“Resource collection complete,” she said. “The return route has been updated to avoid foggy areas and scree slopes.”

"Avoid?" Chen Hao pointed to his shoulder. "Then tell me how I can carry fifty pounds of stuff up a mountain and still find a detour?"

“I will share some of the load,” Nana said. “Your backpack is already 42 percent overloaded; you need to lighten it.”

"I've forgotten how much I weigh," he muttered, bending down to pick up his bag from the ground.

Susan reached out to stop him: "Wait."

She untied one strap of her bag, pulled out a folding bracket, unfolded it with a click, and attached it to Chen Hao's backpack. The other end of the bracket was attached to a strap that hung directly on Nana's back.

“Triangle formation,” she said. “Nana will lead the way, I’ll support you in the middle, and she’ll drag the bags from behind. Stop talking nonsense, just admit it if you can’t walk anymore.”

Chen Hao opened his mouth, but in the end he only said, "Are you going to transport me like cargo?"

"Almost there." Susan gave him a push. "Get moving."

The three began to walk downhill. The ground was soft and slippery. With each step Chen Hao took, his right arm throbbed with pain, but he gritted his teeth and didn't cry out. Nana walked ahead, her steps steady, like a machine programmed with a set routine. Susan followed closely beside him, one hand ready to support him at any moment.

"Stop every ten steps," she said. "Don't push yourself."

"Ten steps?" Chen Hao gasped. "I'd sit down even if it took five."

“Then five steps.” She didn’t object. “Count the steps and don’t worry about anything else.”

They trudged down step by step. The sun beat down on their backs, and their clothes quickly became soaked. Chen Hao's breathing grew heavier, and his forehead was covered in sweat. When they reached a patch of loose rocks, his foot slipped, and he lurched forward, nearly falling to his knees. Nana immediately turned around and caught him on the back.

“Vital signs are abnormal,” she said. “Heart rate is 140 and blood pressure is high. I recommend immediate rest.”

"I'm fine," he waved his hand. "I just... slipped and fell."

“If you keep acting tough, I’ll tie you to my bag and drag you back.” Susan crouched down to examine his wound. “The gauze isn’t bleeding, but it’s swollen.”

"So what if it's swollen?" Chen Hao sat down against a rock. "Anyway, I don't make a living based on my looks."

Nana took out tools from her bag, quickly disassembled a section of the robotic arm's outer frame, assembled it into an L-shaped support, and then secured it to the bottom of Chen Hao's backpack with straps. The support slid along the ground, distributing most of the weight.

“Now the load is reduced by thirty percent,” she said. “We can continue.”

"It's a waste that you're not using your skills to repair cars." Chen Hao stood up, feeling a bit more relaxed. "Make me a wheelchair next time."

“The energy supply is insufficient to support the long-term operation of auxiliary equipment,” she said. “This is only a temporary solution.”

"Can't you say something nicer?" he rolled his eyes. "Like, 'You're great, just hang in there and you'll be home soon.'"

“I’m stating the facts.” She turned around. “Let’s go when we’re ready.”

As the sun began to set, they passed through the last patch of bushes. Ahead lay a gentle slope, at the bottom of which was a dry riverbed, beyond which lay the familiar wasteland. The base was in that direction.

"How much longer?" Chen Hao asked.

“At the current speed, it will take one hour and twenty-three minutes,” Nana replied. “We can arrive before dark.”

"I hope I still have legs by then." He dragged his feet to catch up.

After walking for a while, he suddenly spoke up: "Do you think bringing these things back will really change the base?"

Nana turned around and said, "The lighting system can be upgraded, the water purification device has a higher repair probability, and the food storage cycle can be extended."

"That sounds like an advertisement," Chen Hao chuckled. "I mean, can we stop eating dry rations every day? Can we get a good night's sleep? Can we... have a decent room?"

Susan interjected, "We can build warehouses to store supplies. We can set up warning lines to keep out wild animals. If we have enough ore, we can even build simple workshops."

"What happens after the workshop?" Chen Hao took a breath. "Will we be able to grow vegetables? Raise chickens? And not have to worry about the roof leaking when it rains?"

“It’s theoretically feasible,” Nana said. “A closed-off ecological dwelling can be built within two years, achieving basic self-sufficiency.”

“Then it’s not just about existing.” Chen Hao looked up at the sky. “It’s about truly living.”

No one responded, but they didn't stop walking.

After walking for another ten minutes or so, Chen Hao suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?" Susan asked.

He pointed to a low earthen wall in the distance: "Is that the boundary line we marked last time? Once we cross this wall, we'll be there soon."

“Correct.” Nana nodded. “The three-kilometer stretch ahead is a safe zone, with no record of large predator activity.”

“Three kilometers…” he touched his arm. “It feels farther than landing on the moon.”

“If you dare lie down, I’ll stuff you into the recycling bin and treat you as scrap metal.” Susan tugged at him. “Let’s go.”

They continued on. A wind blew from behind, carrying a dusty smell. Chen Hao's shoes were worn down, making a creaking sound with each step. Nana's robotic arm made a faint grinding sound, like gears turning wearily. Susan's backpack strap had broken, so she temporarily tied it with a rope and slung it diagonally over her shoulder.

“When we get back,” Chen Hao suddenly said, “I want to set up a small kitchen.”

"Dream on." Susan sneered.

“It’s not a dream.” He grinned. “I’ll find a piece of sheet metal, build a stove, and get some oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar. I want to eat stir-fried cabbage, preferably hot.”

"You'll talk about this once you're old enough to hold a spatula."

"Nana, do you support me?"

“Optimizing the diet can help improve the team’s survival rate,” she said. “I suggest adding a vegetable cooking module.”

"Look!" Chen Hao raised his eyebrows at Susan, "The robot agreed!"

"Both of you combined aren't enough to take down one of my punches." Susan quickened her pace. "Shut up and let's get going."

As darkness fell, the outline of the mountain ridge on the distant horizon became blurred. But they could already see the shadow of the makeshift fence surrounding the base.

"Forty minutes left," Nana said.

Chen Hao took a deep breath and took a step. His left foot tripped, but he didn't fall. Susan reached out to support his elbow without saying a word.

"You said..." he asked in a low voice, "Will we have electric lights in the future? The real kind, the kind that lights up with the push of a button, so we don't have to use them sparingly."

“Yes,” Susan said, looking ahead. “And not just one.”

"Then I want to install three," he laughed. "One in the living room, one in the bedroom, and one in the kitchen. It'll be brightly lit at night, and no one will be able to steal my food."

"If you dare to sneak a bite in the middle of the night, I'll turn off the lights and make you choke."

"Then I'll gnaw on it with a flashlight."

"Can you two just shut up for a bit?" Nana suddenly spoke up. "We've spotted traces of small animal activity ahead. We advise you to remain vigilant."

"Even rats won't starve in this place, why are you afraid it will bite us?" Chen Hao muttered as he walked forward.

Their shadows stretched long, forming a continuous line on the ground. The straps of their backpacks dug into their shoulders, their steps grew heavier, but no one stopped.

Chen Hao counted his steps, panting after every five. Susan stayed by his side the whole time. Nana walked in front, the lamplight sweeping across the ground, illuminating the next stretch of road.

“When I get back,” he added, “the first thing I need to do is get a full twelve hours of sleep.”

“Take a shower first,” Susan said. “You smell so bad it could scare away wolves.”

"That's perfect as a beast repellent."

"Shut up."

They climbed over the last dirt slope. Below the slope lay flat wasteland, with the faint reflection of tin roofs visible at the far end.

“That’s the entrance.” Nana pointed to a collapsed bunker. “We left a mark there.”

Chen Hao looked in that direction and grinned.

He lifted his right foot and took a step forward.