Footsteps approached from afar, and a cloud of dust rose as the equipment room door was pushed open.

Chen Hao rubbed his eyes, still sleepy, and said, "Can't you at least give me a heads-up before putting on an electric spark show this early in the morning?"

Carl didn't turn around, his fingers firmly planted on the edge of the connector: "Wait three more seconds, either the light will turn on or the circuit breaker will trip."

Nana stood at the door, her robotic arm slightly raised, scanning the voltmeter on the wall: "Current input current 1.8 amps, exceeding the safety threshold by 12 percent."

“I know,” Carl said, “but the old system needs a high voltage charge for a cold start, otherwise the insulation won’t wake up.”

Susan climbed down the ventilation shaft and clapped her hands: "Found the switch, it was rusted, I pried it open."

“Okay.” Carl nodded. “Now listen to my instructions. Nana, disconnect the backup battery pack; Susan, push the reset lever all the way; Chen Hao, get ready to press that red button—the one you used to distract me when you were sneaking a bite of the compressed biscuits last time.”

Chen Hao grinned: "You still remember this?"

“I remember,” Carl said, looking at him. “So don’t let your hands shake.”

Chen Hao took a deep breath and pressed the button.

The machine vibrated with a hum, like a cough that had been held back for three years finally being released. The light at the end of the corridor flickered and went out. Everyone's faces darkened.

Carl smiled and said, "It's done."

As soon as he finished speaking, the LED lights in the entire corridor lit up one by one, as steadily as if they had never broken down.

"Would you call this a resurrection?" Chen Hao looked up at the ceiling. "I think I just heard the light bulbs chanting."

“It’s the sound of a relay closing.” Carl let go of his hand. “It’s just been too long since anyone called it to work.”

Susan walked to the refrigerator and opened the door. The compressor gave a low growl and started running.

"It's iced." She took out a bottle of water. "It's cold, not at room temperature."

Chen Hao took the bottle and pressed it to his face: "I hereby declare that today is Easter at the base."

Nana brought up the control panel: "Main power supply restored to 60%, lighting, refrigeration, and monitoring systems are connected. Remaining load capacity can support the continuous operation of two small devices."

"That's enough." Karl wiped his hands. "Let's stabilize this wave first, and then we can fix it slowly later."

"Why didn't you say you knew this trick sooner?" Chen Hao leaned against the wall. "Where were you when we burned books for warmth in the winter?"

“Back then I wasn’t sure if you guys would use me as fuel,” Carl chuckled. “Now I know you’d only use me as a tool.”

“That’s different.” Chen Hao waved his hand. “Before, it was about survival; now it’s about living. You’re helping us upgrade from ‘just surviving’ to ‘living like a human being.’”

Susan put the toolbox back on the shelf: "What's next?"

“Voltage stabilization.” Carl pointed to the distribution box. “Right now, the voltage is like a patient with an irregular heartbeat; we need to add a buffer.”

He walked to the pile of discarded solar panels in the corner: "Take out a few capacitors and put them together as a temporary array."

“I’ll solder.” Susan picked up the soldering iron. “You draw the design, and I’ll do the soldering.”

"I'll move things." Chen Hao hoisted a metal plate onto his shoulder. "Although I don't understand it, I'm strong."

Nana stood to the side, calculating the connection sequence in real time: "I suggest using a triangular topology, which has stronger anti-interference capabilities."

“Do as she says.” Carl spread out the blueprints on the floor. “We’re not fixing circuits now, we’re building blood vessels for the base.”

The three people surrounded them and took their positions.

Susan was in charge of the interface soldering, and her movements were swift and efficient; Nana kept reminding her of the temperature and resistance values; Chen Hao used his body to block the draft from the window to prevent the solder joints from getting damp.

Half an hour later, the voltage regulator module was connected to the main line.

The fluctuating curve on the dashboard gradually flattened out, and the lights stopped flashing.

"It's done." Susan put down the soldering iron. "Ten minutes faster than expected."

“Because no one argues anymore.” Chen Hao stretched. “Before, even installing a light bulb required a meeting and a vote, but now it’s much simpler.”

“Trust saves time.” Carl looked at the screen. “You have to spend ten times the effort watching someone if you doubt them, but if you trust someone, you only need to give them a screwdriver.”

Just then, the kettle in the kitchen made a "click" sound and automatically shut off.

Chen Hao rushed over, poured a glass, blew on it twice, and drank it.

"Hot," he grinned, "but it feels so good. It's the first time in three years that I've seen water boil by itself."

Susan poured herself a glass: "We won't need to burn firewood for bathing anymore."

"Let me make this clear first," Chen Hao raised his hand, "Anyone who dares to take my hot water will be stuffed into the ventilation shaft."

“Then you’ll have to climb in first,” Susan sneered. “Let’s see if you can squeeze in.”

"Hey, I'm a model worker now," Chen Hao patted his belly. "High energy conversion efficiency."

Nana recorded the data: "The system ran for 45 minutes without any abnormal alarms. The power load remained stable within the safe range. This restart assessment is successful."

"Let's celebrate then." Chen Hao pulled out half a bag of potato chips. "Even if they're not spicy strips, it's still a reward for the spirit."

Karl took a piece, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly.

"It smells a bit damp," he said.

"As long as it's edible, it's fine." Chen Hao shrugged. "In the wilderness, snacks that are six months past their expiration date are considered fresh."

“I’m not being disgusted,” Carl looked up. “I just never imagined that one day I could be fixing circuits while eating potato chips.”

"Welcome to the civilized world." Chen Hao patted him on the shoulder. "Although this world is only forty square meters."

Over the next few hours, the four began discussing how to improve their daily efficiency.

“The most difficult part is transporting supplies,” Susan said. “It takes twenty minutes to haul clean water and gravel from the warehouse each time.”

"And the rainy season is coming soon," Chen Hao sighed. "The roads will be muddy then, and one trip will be exhausting."

Carl squatted on the ground and sketched a map on the concrete with a carbon stick: "We can make a slide."

"A slide?" Chen Hao leaned closer. "You mean we have to sit in baskets and go down?"

“Use the difference in elevation.” Carl pointed to the slope of the ground. “There’s a 2.3-meter height difference between the warehouse exit and the back door of the residential area. Install a simple pulley track, and heavy objects can slide down by themselves.”

"It sounds like an amusement park ride," Chen Hao laughed. "But I like it."

"Nana, calculate the load-bearing limit," Carl said. "If we use double-strand steel cables for traction, what's the maximum load it can withstand?"

Nana's screen flashed: "The theoretical load limit is 80 kilograms. It is recommended to keep the actual load under 50 kilograms to ensure safety."

“Then I can give it a try.” Chen Hao stood up. “Anyway, it’s been a long time since I’ve experienced high-altitude rappelling.”

"Stop messing around." Susan frowned. "The first run must be an empty-load test."

"Listen to her," Carl said. "Put the sandbags down first."

The three worked together to build the track. Susan secured the anchor points, Nana adjusted the angles, and Carl adjusted the pulley system.

Chen Hao was in charge of carrying the sandbags for the test. As he walked, he muttered, "I feel like a mule right now."

“You’re a tester now,” Carl said. “Mule doesn’t have a permanent position; you’re a full-time employee.”

The first empty basket slid down and landed smoothly.

The second trip, carrying 30 kilograms of sandbags, successfully arrived.

The third trip involved 50 kilograms of material; the track wobbled slightly, but did not derail.

"Alright," Karl nodded. "It's ready for use."

“Then I’ll do something more exciting.” Chen Hao climbed onto the starting platform. “I want to personally test the comfort level.”

"Don't do anything reckless!" Susan shouted.

"Don't worry." Chen Hao sat down in the wooden basket. "I tied a safety rope—uh, actually it's a clothesline."

He loosened the fastener.

The wooden basket slid down the track, getting faster and faster, and finally stopped gently at the end.

Chen Hao sat inside, his face a little pale, but a smile played on his lips: "This is awesome! It's even more exhilarating than riding a roller coaster!"

“You almost hit your head on the wall.” Susan walked over and pulled him away. “If you do that again, I’ll tie you up outside and leave you to bake in the sun for three days.”

“It’s worth it.” Chen Hao patted the bottom of the basket. “This thing can save half the manpower.”

“Not only that,” Carl said. “With the addition of a steering mechanism, it can be extended to the greenhouse area.”

"Your brain is worth more than a generator," Chen Hao slapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Don’t flatter me.” Carl bent down to tidy his tools. “I just don’t want to carry fifty kilograms of stones by hand anymore.”

After noon, the base looked brand new.

The lights are stable, the refrigerator is running, hot water is readily available, and the chute is in use.

Chen Hao stood in front of the control panel, holding a newly printed power load diagram in his hand.

“Look at this curve,” he said to Carl. “It’s as flat as my belly.”

“Your belly isn’t flat,” Susan said as she disassembled a welding torch.

“That’s muscle.” Chen Hao touched it. “It’s bulked muscle.”

Nana archived this upgrade as follows: "Record No. 473, Title: Base's First Autonomous Technology Iteration. Status: Completed."

"What's next?" Chen Hao asked Karl. "What else can be changed?"

Carl sat at his workbench, drawing new blueprints.

“Rainwater harvesting system,” he said. “Currently, we rely entirely on manual water collection, which is too inefficient. I can make a buoyancy valve to achieve automatic water diversion.”

"Sounds like a high-end toy." Chen Hao leaned closer to take a look. "What materials are needed?"

“A few sections of PVC pipe, an old float, and…” Carl looked up, “How long has that solar panel under your bed been sitting idle?”

"Ouch." Chen Hao clutched his chest. "You even knew I was hiding something?"

“I have the entire circuitry of the base memorized,” Carl said, “including the little bedside fan you secretly connected.”

“That’s called a quality of life improvement device,” Chen Hao argued.

Susan put away her tools: "I'll go find some materials this afternoon."

"I'll help you," Chen Hao said, unusually proactive. "Anyway, I'm an unofficial member of the technical team now."

Nana updated her task list: "New project: Automated rainwater diversion system. Estimated duration: two days."

Sunlight streamed in through the repaired skylight, illuminating the smoothly functioning dashboard.

Carl lowered his head and continued drawing, the tip of his pen scratching across the paper.

Chen Hao stood behind him, watching the lines on the drawing extend little by little.

"Have you done this kind of thing before?" he asked.

Karl didn't look up.

“Many times,” he said, “but this time someone helped me hold the ladder.”