Chen Hao crumpled the tattered piece of paper into a ball in his pocket, his fingers twitching, but he didn't take it out. He straightened up and stretched his shoulders, as if trying to shake off the emotions of last night.

“Let’s go,” he said. “It’s time to check the spaceship.”

Susan opened her eyes and glanced at him. Carl was coming out of the kitchen, holding a water glass. Nana was already standing in front of the terminal, the screen lit up.

No one spoke, but everyone moved.

Chen Hao was the first to walk out, his steps a little slow. He only realized his shoelaces were untied when he reached the door. He bent down to tie them, muttering, "If I tripped and fell now, people would definitely say I'm so fat I can't even walk properly."

“You’re not very agile to begin with,” Carl said, following behind.

"I'm just being steady," Chen Hao straightened up. "Leaders always walk slowly."

Nana walked last, and the door closed automatically. The lights inside the base dimmed, and the gray-white light of the early morning shone through the corridor at the end.

The spaceship sat on the tarmac, its hull reflecting a faint light. Several anchor cables connected it to ground points, and the cargo hold door was ajar, as if it were opening its mouth to be fed.

Chen Hao climbed the gangway, his movements not very nimble, and he had to hold onto the railing halfway up. He turned back and shouted down, "I didn't fall, see?"

Nobody paid him any attention.

The cockpit lights came on, and the system self-test program started. Status prompts skipped across the screen, with green text scrolling rapidly.

"Power unit is normal."

"Navigation module is ready."

"Life support system on standby."

Nana stood beside the control panel, her finger swiping across the interface. "The main control system is normal, but I suggest checking the backup power connector again. There was a 0.3 millivolt fluctuation during the last test."

"Wasn't it fixed?" Chen Hao asked.

“Fixed doesn’t mean there won’t be new problems.” Carl crawled into the equipment compartment. “You robots always like to treat ‘no problem for now’ as ‘no problem forever’.”

“I’m speaking based on data,” Nana replied calmly, “while you’re guessing based on experience.”

“Experience is more reliable than data.” Carl unscrewed the panel screws. “At least we won’t blow up the ship because of a missing decimal point.”

Chen Hao chuckled to himself, leaning on his chair. Susan sat in a folding chair in the corner, checking the medical kit checklist item by item.

"All four oxygen masks are in place."

"Three sets of emergency medications, unopened."

"The fetal heart rate monitor is charged."

She reads a sentence and then puts a checkmark on the tablet.

There was a noise coming from the cargo hold. Chen Hao peeked out and found that one of the straps had come loose and the box was tilted.

"Who tied this up?" he shouted. "It's tied up like a sausage."

“You tied it up yesterday,” Nana said.

"Huh? Impossible." Chen Hao's eyes widened. "I clearly remember tying a knot that couldn't be tied."

“You used a slipknot.” Carl climbed out of the equipment compartment, his hands smeared with oil. “He also tucked the clips under the box.”

“That’s called strategic reserve,” Chen Hao argued. “What if we need to unpack it in an emergency?”

“We have to take it apart now.” Carl used a wrench to pry open the corners that were being held down. “Otherwise, the vibrations during takeoff will cause the box to crash through the bulkhead, and we’ll start leaking air before we even leave the atmosphere.”

The two worked together to re-secure the straps. Chen Hao tightened the straps, while Karl locked the buckles. After the last loop, Karl gave them a couple of strong tugs.

“This is sturdy,” he said. “It won’t fall apart even if it hits a meteorite.”

"Don't jinx it," Chen Hao patted him on the shoulder. "We don't want to actually run into a meteorite."

“The probability is 0.7 out of 10,000,” Nana said from the side. “And most of them are particle-level impacts that won’t cause structural damage.”

"Can't you just not give me specific numbers?" Chen Hao complained. "It sounds like something bad is about to happen."

“I’m stating the facts.” Nana turned on the recorder. “Now we’ll begin recording the results of the supplies inspection.”

Susan closed the medical kit and gently placed it in the designated compartment. She reached out and touched the corner of the kit to make sure the clasp was closed.

"I have enough food for thirty days," she said. "The compressed biscuits, nutritional paste, and dehydrated vegetables are all within their expiration dates. I also packed an extra packet of coffee powder."

"Finally, someone understands life." Chen Hao gave a thumbs up.

"That's only enough for five drinks," Susan reminded her. "Use it sparingly."

“Five times is enough to write a memoir,” Chen Hao grinned. ““My Days in Space Surviving on Coffee”.

“The title is too long,” Carl said. “How come the fat man didn’t starve to death?”

“If you call me Fatty again, I’ll donate all the chocolates you’ve hidden to the Navigation Fund,” Chen Hao threatened.

“I don’t have any chocolate,” Carl said without changing his expression.

“There’s a foil packet in the third compartment of your toolbox,” Nana suddenly said. “It’s labeled ‘Emergency Energy Supply’.”

Karl was silent for two seconds. "...That's for moisture protection."

“You even licked it.” Chen Hao laughed. “I saw it.”

“The environment is dry, and metals oxidize easily,” Carl insisted. “I’m just checking the surface for corrosion.”

"Were you particularly thorough when you examined the tongue?" Chen Hao winked.

No one responded, but the atmosphere became more relaxed.

Nana retrieved the navigation system log. "After replacing the backup power interface, the system is running stably, and voltage fluctuations have returned to zero. It is recommended to conduct a final cross-validation of the entire system."

“I’ll go check on the robotic arm.” Carl turned and walked out. “It was a bit choppy when it was retracted yesterday.”

"I'll go check the cargo hold seals too." Chen Hao followed him down into the hold. "The last leak was caused by this."

Susan remained in the cockpit, continuing to check the medication temperature records. She pressed the refresh button, and the data stream reloaded.

A few minutes later, Carl's voice came through the communicator: "The robotic arm's hydraulics are normal, and there is no wear on the joints. The lubricant is full."

"The cargo hold sealing strip is intact," Chen Hao reported. "The rubber ring isn't cracked, and the groove is clean. It's just a little dusty, so I wiped it off."

“The air filter replacement is complete,” Nana added. “All sensors have been calibrated.”

Susan looked up. "The medical supplies are confirmed to be correct."

The cabin quieted down.

Nana walked to the control panel, her finger hovering over the final confirmation button.

"All items have been reviewed and verified," she said. "Nothing has been missed."

Chen Hao leaned back in his seat and let out a long sigh. "Finally... everything's here."

Carl came in, carrying a toolbox. He placed the box in the corner and locked it.

"Is there anything else to do before we leave?" he asked.

“That’s all,” Chen Hao said. “We’ve fixed everything that could be fixed, investigated everything that could be investigated, and argued about everything that could be argued about.”

"Then can we board the ship?" Susan asked softly.

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao suddenly stood up. "There's still one thing missing."

Everyone was looking at him.

He walked to the locker, opened the bottom drawer, rummaged through it a few times, and pulled out a small cloth bag.

Inside was a handful of soil.

“We dug it from the north slope,” he said. “The wind was so strong that day that sand was getting into our mouths. The three of us crouched down to avoid the wind, and Nana stood in front of us to block it.”

“I remember,” Susan smiled. “You said the soil was so salty it felt like it had been soaked in tears.”

“That’s how it is.” Chen Hao put the cloth bag into his bag. “Just to keep it as a memento. If the kids ask me what this place looks like in the future, I can pour some out for them to see.”

“Maybe he’ll come back someday,” Carl said.

"What are you coming back for?" Chen Hao retorted, "To relive the joy of starvation?"

“Let’s see if the base is still there,” Carl said. “And while we’re at it, let’s carve the name on the wall.”

“You carved it a long time ago,” Chen Hao said. “Last time when we were fixing the roof, we wrote ‘Karl was here’ on the beam.”

“I didn’t write that,” Carl frowned.

“The handwriting analysis has been done,” Nana said. “There’s a 90% chance it’s you. You drank three bottles of electrolyte water at the time, and you were in a state of heightened excitement, so you tended to leave evidence of your presence.”

Karl was stunned. "...How come I don't remember?"

“Water intoxication syndrome.” Chen Hao patted him on the shoulder. “We’ve all been through it.”

The light outside the cabin had brightened a bit. A morning breeze swept across the tarmac, stirring up a small cloud of dust.

Nana pressed the confirmation button. The system emitted a short beep.

“All indicators are normal,” she said. “The ship is on standby.”

Chen Hao walked to the porthole and looked out at the desolate wilderness. The distant mountain ridgeline was clearly visible, and the wind-eroded rocks resembled crouching animals.

He pressed his hand against the glass.

"Just like that, you're leaving?" Susan said softly.

"Why not wait here for takeout?" Chen Hao withdrew his hand. "Besides, I still have Wi-Fi and hot pot waiting for me on Earth."

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Carl asked.

"You have to adapt, even if you don't want to," Chen Hao shrugged. "I can't expect Nana to keep cooking for me."

“I can upgrade the cooking module,” Nana said.

"Absolutely not." Chen Hao waved his hand. "Last time you said you wanted to try Chinese stir-frying, and the wok was already red-hot."

“That was a temperature control error,” Nana explained. “I’ve already corrected the algorithm.”

"I don't believe you." Chen Hao took a step back. "If you really make an edible dish, I'll swallow the pot right here and now."

“You might choke,” Carl said. “After all, you’ve even chewed on the packaging.”

"I was starving that time!" Chen Hao protested. "Besides, the bags were made of cornstarch, which is environmentally friendly!"

Susan smiled and looked down. She placed her hand on her abdomen and moved it gently.

Nana closed the terminal interface, and the data synchronization was complete.

The four men stood in the center of the cockpit, and no one moved.

Chen Hao took a deep breath, turned around, and faced the cabin door.

“Everything is here,” he said.

Carl locked the last toolbox.

Susan checked the medical kit again.

Nana stood by the control panel, quietly waiting for instructions.

Chen Hao lifted his foot, ready to take a step.

Just then, the power cord under the driver's seat trembled slightly.