As dawn broke, the control panel lights were still on. Nana sat in front of the terminal, her fingers lightly tapping on the keyboard, the data stream on the screen scrolling slowly. She hadn't turned off the monitoring program, but had simply lowered the output mode to the lowest setting and even turned off the notification sounds.

Chen Hao pushed open the door and came in, carrying two lunchboxes. He placed one of them next to Nana, the plastic lid making a soft click.

“Oat protein powder,” he said. “This time, I didn’t add any salt.”

Nana looked up at him, and the optical module flickered slightly. "Thank you."

“It’s fine if we don’t eat it.” Chen Hao plopped down. “Anyway, Karl said yesterday that the soybean flour in the warehouse is about to expire, and if no one eats it, it will have to be used as fertilizer.”

He opened his lunchbox, took a bite of the cold bread, and chewed it with a crunching sound. The room was quiet, with only the low-frequency sound of equipment running, like someone snoring softly.

A moment later, Susan came down the hallway, carrying a stack of papers. She paused as she entered and looked at the two of them.

"You didn't sleep all night?"

“No.” Chen Hao swallowed what was in his mouth. “I slept for three hours and dreamed that I was late for the exam, and the proctor was my mom.”

Susan placed the papers on the table and pulled one out. "I've compiled some data on locally available materials. We've been keeping an eye on the standard supplies on the list, but some of these things can actually be obtained locally."

Nana took the document and glanced at it. "Plant fiber woven mesh frame, silicate insulation layer... Have you tried it?"

“I didn’t try them all,” Susan shook her head. “But I’ve seen others weave ropes from vines, and they’re very strong. The cold-resistant, grayish-green vines on this planet have been tested once, and they can withstand eight kilograms per square centimeter.”

Chen Hao whistled. "Much better than the clothesline we use to hang clothes downstairs in our dorm."

“The key is that we don’t need to start up large equipment.” Susan pointed to the record sheet. “The data collection and preliminary processing can be done manually, without any electromagnetic leakage.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Carl arrived. He stood at the door, dusted off his coat, and casually hung his tool bag on the back of his chair.

"I heard there's going to be a meeting?" He looked at Chen Hao. "No internet connection, no peripherals, just the few of us talking?"

“Yes.” Chen Hao nodded. “There might be people eavesdropping outside now, so we have to speak and act like ordinary people chatting casually, and we can’t appear too clever.”

Carl grinned. "Then you take the lead, and I'll cooperate."

“Let’s begin.” Chen Hao stood up, walked to the whiteboard, and drew a circle. “We have three categories now: daily necessities, tools and parts, and energy navigation. Which one should we start with?”

“Lifestyle-related topics,” Susan said. “They’re the easiest to revise.”

"Okay." Chen Hao wrote down the four characters "material substitute". "How much can that vine you mentioned make?"

“Storage nets, shoulder straps, and simple tent frames are all possible.” Susan flipped to a sketch page. “If you add a resin coating, it will also be waterproof. I’ve processed volcanic ash mixed with pine resin before; it has a good hardness after drying, and you can scrape it off, grind it into powder, and use it as an anti-slip agent.”

Carl chimed in, "I know where there are resin trees. There are a few on the edge of the northern slope forest area, and the bark oozes sap year-round from the cracks. When collecting it, you scrape it with a ceramic shard; it won't damage the tree or leave any metal marks."

"Okay." Chen Hao noted it down. "Then this part will be led by the two of you?"

“Okay.” Susan nodded. “I’ll lead the team to collect the materials, and Carl will oversee the processing.”

“Wait a minute,” Nana suddenly said. “There’s a low-energy purification method in the database that’s suitable for separating mineral powders. It doesn’t require electricity; it just relies on gravity sedimentation, and the process is completely silent.”

She pulled up a simplified diagram and projected it on the wall. "The equipment assembly only requires three containers, one tubing, and a filter cloth. The signal emitted throughout the process is lower than the background noise."

Chen Hao stared at it for two seconds, then laughed. "Is it like pouring water through a funnel?"

"More or less," Nana nodded.

“I like this high-tech approach.” Chen Hao crossed out a line from the original plan on the whiteboard. “For the supplies line, we’ll switch to using locally sourced materials. Susan and Carl will be in charge of organization, and Nana will provide technical support. Any questions?”

Both of them shook their heads.

"The second part is tools," Chen Hao continued writing. "We originally planned to use the new process to make structural components, but now the data is inaccurate, so we dare not rush into mass production."

Carl snorted. "I told you not to rely too much on machine calculations."

“It’s not a dependency,” Nana replied calmly. “It’s cross-validation. Since some parameters are missing, we can only prioritize known and reliable methods.”

"So I came up with a compromise," Chen Hao interjected. "We'll still use the old methods to back up the critical parts, such as the mounting brackets and load-bearing shafts. At the same time, we'll test the new materials in small batches, installing them in non-critical locations to observe their effects."

Carl thought for a moment. "Okay. I can bring people to replicate the old connectors; we have enough materials."

"What about the innovation team?" Susan asked.

"Reduce the quantity but not stop production," Chen Hao said. "We'll continue production, but only operate one small molding machine with the power set to the lowest level. The resulting signal fluctuations will be close to daily electricity usage, making it less likely to be detected."

Nana added, "I will turn off all remote feedback modules and only keep local records."

“That’s good.” Carl nodded. “They work quietly, like they’re cooking porridge.”

"The last part is energy and navigation." Chen Hao's tone became more serious. "These two cannot be changed arbitrarily. The battery pack repair will proceed as planned. We will try to replicate the missing navigation chip parts after confirming their safety."

The room was quiet for a few seconds.

Susan said, "I think the direction is clear. Everyone should prepare, and we can get started today."

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao didn't put down his pen. "I have one more thing to say."

All three of them were looking at him.

“We’re like a bunch of students skipping class, hiding in the bathroom and figuring out how to copy homework without getting caught by the teacher.” He chuckled. “But we still have to hand in the homework and pass.”

Carl laughed. "That's a pretty apt analogy."

"So I set a principle." Chen Hao wrote a line at the bottom of the whiteboard: "Everything should have at least two ways to be made."

He turned to face the three men. "If one of them can't handle it, there's always another to take their place. We're not afraid of being slow, we're afraid of things breaking down."

Nana looked at the line of text, and the optical module slightly adjusted its angle. "This strategy logic holds true. Redundant design can increase the probability of survival."

“Then it’s settled.” Chen Hao tossed his pen into the pen holder. “Now we’ll split up. Susan and Carl will go to the warehouse to check the available raw materials, Nana will organize the gravity purification flowchart, and I’ll rearrange the supplies list.”

Susan got up to take her files, and Carl picked up his toolbox. As they reached the door, Chen Hao called them back.

"By the way, don't go too far when picking vines. Stay within the visible range of the base, so we can call for help if something happens."

“I understand.” Carl waved his hand. “It’s not like I want to go on a picnic.”

After the door closed, only Chen Hao and Nana remained in the room.

He sat back in his chair, opened his tablet, and began cutting back on the original plan items. Nana, meanwhile, accessed the database and filtered out process documents suitable for the current conditions.

A few minutes later, she suddenly stopped.

“I’ve discovered something,” she said.

Chen Hao looked up. "What?"

"The silicate vein that Susan mentioned is located in the valley on the east side. According to the geological scan map, there are cavity structures underground in that area."

"Oh?" Chen Hao leaned closer. "How big?"

“It’s about 15 meters in diameter and covered with permafrost on top.” Nana zoomed in on the image. “Thermal imaging shows that there is a small amount of residual heat inside, not enough to sustain life, but enough to support the operation of automated devices.”

Chen Hao stared at the screen, his fingers tapping the table unconsciously.

"Do you think... it's possible that someone might bury the device there first and then trigger the signal remotely?"

“It’s possible,” Nana replied. “Moreover, the launch site is 6.7 kilometers away from us, which happens to be in the blind spot of conventional monitoring.”

Chen Hao didn't say anything, but silently noted down the coordinates.

Just as he was about to continue revising the list, Nana spoke up again.

“There’s another record,” she said. “At 3:42 a.m., a brief moving heat source was detected in the infrared monitoring of the northern ridge. It lasted for less than a second, but the trajectory did not conform to natural phenomena.”

Chen Hao slowly raised his head.

"You didn't sign up for this before?"

“No.” Nana looked directly at him. “I think we need to confirm the value of the information before deciding whether to disclose it.”

Chen Hao was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled.

"You've even learned to keep things to yourself?"

"I'm just learning how humans make judgments."