Chen Hao's finger hovered in mid-air, particles of soil still clinging to his fingertips. He was about to ask Nana if she could make a water level warning rod when he saw a flash of blue light in her eyes. A slender probe silently slid from her wrist and plunged straight into the seemingly soft ground at her feet.

"Where are you reaching for this time?" He withdrew his hand and took a small step back. "You scared me, it was like magic."

“Deep soil sampling,” Nana said calmly. “Surface observation is insufficient to determine the feasibility of cultivation.”

Before the words were even finished, the probe had already sunk thirty centimeters into the ground, remaining silent for a few seconds before slowly retracting. A set of data charts then appeared in the air, their colors chillingly cold.

“Organic matter content 0.8%.” She read out the list one by one, “pH value 5.2, weakly acidic; clay content less than 12%, poor water and fertilizer retention capacity. Overall assessment – ​​unsuitable for the growth of most edible plants.”

Chen Hao leaned closer for a look, then scratched his head: "So, it looks like a good piece of land, but it's actually a hollow radish?"

“The analogy is inaccurate,” she said. “It’s more like a bed sheet that looks clean but is actually full of mites and mold.”

"Fine, scientific explanations always seem to make people depressed." He squatted down, grabbed a handful of soil and rubbed it. The soil, which had previously felt dry and even, now felt a bit prickly to the touch. "So, according to you, we can't even grow wild onions properly?"

“It’s not entirely impossible.” Nana pulled up a chart. “We can make small-scale artificial improvements by adding organic matter to adjust the structure, while controlling the amount of watering to avoid nutrient loss.”

"That sounds like having to memorize a recipe before you can cook at home." He stood up and dusted himself off. "Forget it, since this place won't work, let's look for another one. This desolate planet is so big, it can't all be 'looks like it can be planted, but it'll die if you plant it's a total disaster'."

Nana nodded, and the database updated the coordinates accordingly. "I suggest expanding the exploration area upstream of the river bend, where the lighting and drainage conditions may be better."

"Let's go." Chen Hao flexed his wrists and led the way. "We have to find a patch of land where the seedlings can survive today."

The two walked north along the river for about twenty minutes, and their view gradually opened up. The first potential site was located at the foot of a sunny slope, where the sunlight was abundant and the grass was lush.

"This patch is pretty good." Chen Hao bent down and parted the weeds. "The soil is yellowish, so it should be well-drained."

Nana's sampling analysis and projection results show that the proportion of sand and gravel is too high, and the effective root zone is less than ten centimeters.

"How about planting some shallow-rooted shepherd's purse?" he persisted.

"If there is no rain for more than three days, the surface moisture will evaporate completely within 48 hours," she said. "The survival rate of the seedlings is expected to be less than 20 percent."

"Then just water them more often."

“The water source is 300 meters away, and manual transportation is inefficient,” she added. “Based on your current physical condition, you can only make a maximum of six round trips a day, which is enough to maintain irrigation for half a square meter.”

Chen Hao was silent for two seconds, then sighed: "So I have to work as a water pump too?"

The second plot of land was in a low-lying area, near a small tributary. The soil was moist, and it would sink slightly when you stepped on it.

"This should work now, right?" He pointed to the ground. "It's wet, it looks perfect for growing vegetables."

After Nana finished scanning, a yellow warning sign immediately lit up on the projector.

“The groundwater level is only 35 centimeters below the surface, and water easily accumulates after rain,” she said. “If it’s cloudy for more than two consecutive days, this place will turn into a temporary swamp.”

"You mean... growing vegetables and raising lotus roots?" He grinned. "That's not bad, we can at least make some lotus seed and white fungus soup."

“The lotus seed growth cycle is eight months.” Nana said calmly, “The current climate does not provide suitable conditions for overwintering.”

"You really are something, you even go after my dreams." He rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

The third plot of land was hidden behind a low hill. The terrain was slightly higher, with sparse vegetation but decent soil quality. The only problem was that it was right next to a steep rock face, with a few loose stones hanging over the edge, making a slight scraping sound when the wind blew through them.

“This place…” Chen Hao looked up, “is a bit risky.”

“The risk rating for falling rocks is B,” Nana said. “It has a medium probability of triggering, and if it does occur, it could destroy all vegetation and equipment within a two-square-meter area.”

"What if I plant during the day and move the tools away before I finish work at night?"

"The risks have not been eliminated, and long-term use is not recommended."

"Got it." He waved his hand. "We're looking for land, not risking our lives."

Despite the rejection of three plots of land in a row, Chen Hao was not annoyed. Instead, he took out a small piece of charcoal stick he always carried with him and drew a simple diagram on a flat stone, marking the problems of each plot.

"The sand is too heavy, the water is too much, and the rocks are going to hit my head." He muttered as he wrote, "The land on this desolate planet is even harder to manage than the property management downstairs from my apartment."

“Your analogy is flawed,” Nana said, “but the way you’ve documented it meets basic archiving standards.”

"Thank you for the compliment." He chuckled. "I used to struggle with writing essays in exams, so I would just make up jokes to get points. Now I've discovered that you can use jokes to improve your agriculture too."

At midday, when the sun was high in the sky, the two rested for a while. Chen Hao sat down against a rock, took out half a compressed biscuit from his pocket, and started eating it.

"We've been working so hard all this time, and we haven't even found a single suitable plot of land," he said, chewing on a dry biscuit. "Shouldn't we start questioning our existence?"

“Suspicion cannot change the soil composition,” Nana said. “But continued exploration can increase the probability of finding suitable areas.”

"You actually believe in the idea that 'if you search long enough, a good place will eventually appear'?"

“Statistical data supports this conclusion.” She paused. “It’s like sewing clothes; after failing seven times, you succeed on the eighth.”

Chen Hao almost choked on his pancake: "You even remember how many stitches I needed?"

“All key operational points are recorded,” she said, “including your breathing disturbances during the fifth injection and adjusting the rhythm starting from the sixth injection.”

"Robots can be terrifying when they hold grudges." He wiped his mouth, stood up, and stretched. "Alright, if the clothes can be made, the land can definitely be found. Let's go take another look ahead."

They continued north, through a thicket of bushes. Branches rustled against their newly made leather coats. The last candidate site came into view—flat, densely vegetated, with a thin layer of leaf litter and dark brown soil, it looked ideal.

“This time…” Chen Hao carefully squatted down, “I think we can take a gamble.”

Nana inserted the probe, and the detection time was longer than usual. After a moment, the projection appeared: the surface humus was good, but there was a weathered rock crust forty centimeters below, and the effective cultivation depth was only thirteen centimeters.

“Deep-rooted crops cannot thrive,” she said. “Beans, radishes, and potatoes are all unsuitable.”

Chen Hao didn't speak, but reached out and brushed aside the fallen leaves, digging down little by little. When his fingers touched the bottom layer, he indeed encountered a hard, shell-like substance, like the earth covered with a sheet metal lid.

"Soft on top, sealed off at the bottom," he murmured. "Turning vegetables into potted plants?"

“Raising the soil to create a raised field can solve the depth problem,” Nana said. “But it requires a lot of filling material and drainage design.”

"We have to move soil and build ditches. We haven't even started planting yet, and we're already exhausted." He sat back down on the ground and shook his aching fingers. "But... it's not entirely hopeless."

He looked up at Nana and said, "What do you think? Can we pick a piece of land that's closest to the standard first, even if we can only grow fast-growing vegetables like watercress, and try it out for a while? It's better to plant and adjust as we go than to just wait around."

“That’s feasible.” She nodded. “I suggest we start with the second-best option: select suitable marginal areas and implement localized soil improvement.”

“Then it’s settled.” He patted his pants and stood up. “The starting point doesn’t have to be perfect, but there has to be a beginning.”

He casually smoothed out the charcoal marks he had just drawn and turned his gaze to the distance. There, the mountain's outline was slightly recessed, and a crack in the rock wall could be vaguely seen, as if it had been forcibly torn open by something.

"Hey," he pointed, "isn't there a hole over there?"

Nana scanned in the direction, and the optical lens flickered slightly.

“An unregistered geological structure has been detected,” she said. “It is about 170 meters from our current location and is preliminarily identified as a rock fissure or shallow cavity.”

Chen Hao narrowed his eyes: "cavity? What's that?"

"Chinese translation: hollow cavity"