The snapping sound from the port side had barely faded when the entire ship lurched violently, as if a muscle had been pulled out of its body. Chen Hao's veins bulged on the back of his hand as he gripped the control stick tightly, managing to pull the bow back from the brink of collapse.

"Don't give up." He gritted his teeth. "I'll hold on for another ten seconds."

Nana stood in front of the control panel, her fingers rapidly swiping across the screen. The backup gyroscope array activated, injecting current into the damping system, and the ship's swaying finally began to decrease. Susan scrambled to her feet, ignoring the sweat on her brow, and rushed to the life support panel, switching to low-power mode.

Karl lay on the ground, one hand pressing against the bleeding wound on his forehead, the other unplugging several redundant wires. Energy was redistributed, the cooling pump power briefly rebounded, and the core temperature curve shifted from a rapid surge to a gradual climb.

“It didn’t explode.” Susan gasped for breath. “We’re still alive.”

"He's alive." Chen Hao loosened his grip a little, his arm trembling, "but the boat is about to break down."

The alarm stopped for a few seconds, then went off again. This time it wasn't a loss of control, but rather a flurry of red lights flashing on the resource monitoring system.

Nana pulled up the list: "13% of high-energy crystals remain. Three tubes of sealant. Only two complete medical kits left. Drinking water recycling agent inventory is zero."

"What?" Chen Hao's eyes widened. "Didn't you just get it fixed?"

“Make amends.” Karl sneered. “The pirates attacked for a round, the turbulent currents swayed for twenty minutes, and each repair was a painful struggle. Now even the backup power for the welding torch is almost gone.”

Susan flipped through the log, her voice growing softer: "Food reserves... rationed in reduced quantities, enough for five days. If no one gets injured, no one gets a fever, no one gets diarrhea."

The cabin was quiet for a few seconds.

"So," Chen Hao grinned, "we're in a state where—the ship is about to fall apart, the oil is about to run out, we're starving, and we don't even have enough band-aids to cover our fingers?"

“Pretty much.” Karl leaned against the wall, wiping the blood from his face. “I used to think escaping the pirates was a close call, but now it seems like it was just a warm-up.”

"What should we do then?" Susan asked.

"What else can we do?" Chen Hao stood up and stretched his numb shoulders. "We'll look for it. The ship is so big, there are bound to be things that people have forgotten."

“You expect there to be a hidden warehouse?” Carl looked up.

"I'm hoping someone will sneak snacks," Chen Hao said. "I used to like to put chocolates under my desk before exams, and nobody would know. It's a universal thing."

Susan smiled and said, "There's an abandoned storage room in the lower cargo hold. They said they were going to demolish it during the last cleanup, but then they forgot about it."

"Let's start there." Chen Hao walked towards the door. "Who's coming with me?"

“I’ll go.” Susan stood up.

"I'll go too." Carl tried to stand up, but his legs gave way and he sat back down.

"Don't move." Chen Hao stopped him. "You hit your head pretty hard. If you pass out again, we'll have to carry you back."

“I’m not dizzy,” Carl mumbled. “It’s just that my vision went black and my ears were ringing.”

"Then you keep it." Chen Hao looked at Nana. "The control room is yours. If all the lights go out, remember to call out."

“I will,” Nana nodded. “I’ve already pulled up the original design drawings of the ship and am comparing them with any possible hidden compartments or old pipeline passages. I will notify you immediately if I find anything unusual.”

“Okay.” Chen Hao patted the door frame. “We’ll split into two groups. Susan, come with me to the ground floor. Carl, you rest for ten minutes. Once you’re able to move, go to the middle floor and check on the mezzanine. That’s where junk is most likely to pile up.”

“Okay.” Karl leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Don’t hoard food if you find it.”

"Don't worry," Chen Hao laughed, "I'll only eat half at most."

The two left the control room, the corridor lights flickering. A section of the ceiling had collapsed, exposing cables underneath, like a beast's ripped belly. They walked forward, stepping on the fallen metal plates, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

"Do you think there might be something missed?" Susan asked as they walked.

"Not necessarily." Chen Hao pushed open a deformed hatch. "But people always hide something. They're afraid someone will take it, or they're afraid they'll forget it, so they hide it. By the time they remember, they've long forgotten where they put it."

"You know so much?" Susan raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a bad student, not an idiot." Chen Hao turned around and smiled. "Bad students are the best at hiding things. Homework is hidden under the bed, cell phones are hidden in the shoe cabinet, and report cards are hidden in the freezer."

"Then what?"

"Then my mom found out when she got the frozen chicken wings."

Susan laughed out loud.

The cargo hold entrance door was jammed; Chen Hao kicked it twice before finally opening it. Inside were several old, dusty crates with faded labels. In the corner lay a wrecked robot skeleton, its age unknown.

"Look over here first." Susan moved a box, raising a cloud of dust that made her cough twice.

Chen Hao flipped to another one and opened it, finding several old data tapes that were long unreadable. "Can this stuff be sold for scrap metal?"

“No,” Susan shook her head, “but maybe we can disassemble the parts.”

They continued searching. In the third box, they found two unopened bottles of lubricant, which Chen Hao immediately put into his backpack. "This can fix joint bearings."

Further on, a metal box caught his attention. The box was locked, but the latch was rusted. Chen Hao used a wrench to pry it open.

Inside were six packs of compressed biscuits, produced three years ago.

"Wow!" Susan's eyes lit up. "Can we still eat it?"

"The packaging isn't broken." Chen Hao squeezed it. "The expiration date is marked as last December."

"Expired one month ago."

“In space, a month is nothing.” Chen Hao put his backpack away. “Compared to starving to death, diarrhea is the least of your worries.”

They searched for another half hour but found no more food. However, they found a canister of high-pressure nitrogen in the corner, labeled "Backup Pressurization Source." Chen Hao picked it up and shook it; it was still more than half full.

“This is useful,” he said. “It can temporarily replenish the pressure in the sealed chamber.”

Just then, the communicator rang.

"Chen Hao." It was Karl's voice, a little hoarse. "I found an old toolbox in the repair compartment. Inside were three energy rods, their condition unknown."

"Energy rod?" Chen Hao's spirits lifted. "Can it still be recharged?"

"I don't know. The casing isn't cracked, but the reading is zero. It might be due to self-discharge from being stored for too long."

"Bring it back and try it," Chen Hao said. "What if it's full?"

“Hmm.” Karl paused for a moment. “There’s one more thing. There’s a hidden door at the end of the mezzanine. It’s very narrow and has a manual latch.”

"A hidden door?" Susan leaned closer to the communicator.

“It doesn’t look like a standard design,” Carl said. “I checked the drawings Nana gave me, and that location should be a ventilation duct, but the actual structure has changed.”

Chen Hao and Susan exchanged a glance.

"Don't touch it yet," Chen Hao said. "Let's open it together when we get back. Who knows if it's treasure or a trap inside?"

“I understand,” Carl said. “I’m not stupid; I won’t go in alone.”

Communication was cut off.

“It seems there really are some who slipped through the net,” Susan said.

"Not necessarily." Chen Hao patted his backpack. "It could also be a place where someone throws away their trash."

"But we have to take a look."

“Of course.” Chen Hao turned and walked back. “Otherwise, what would we be doing here? We can’t expect supply boxes to fall from the sky.”

They returned to the main passage, and had only gone halfway when a lamp overhead suddenly exploded, showering sparks down. Chen Hao raised his hand to shield himself, and a red mark appeared on his palm from the burn.

"This ship is really just taking it one day at a time." He shook his hand.

"Are you alright?" Susan asked.

"I won't die," Chen Hao laughed. "At most, my handwriting will tremble in the future."

Back in the control room, Karl hadn't come down yet. Nana was analyzing the structural diagram of the hidden door.

"Based on the material's resonant frequency," she said, "the internal space is about 0.8 cubic meters, with no signs of life and no high-energy reactions."

"In other words," Chen Hao said, "it's neither a bomb nor a person."

"It is currently considered safe," Nana said, "but caution is still needed when opening it."

“Let’s wait for Karl to come back.” Chen Hao sat down. “Four people are better than three. In case it’s an alien cockroach nest inside, at least someone will be there to take the fall.”

Susan rolled her eyes at him: "Can't you say something auspicious?"

"To be honest," Chen Hao shrugged, "in a place like this, surviving until tomorrow is the greatest blessing."

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes to rest. His body was exhausted, as if it had been run over, but his mind was still working.

Food was scarce, energy was tight, and the ship was severely damaged. Every step was teetering on the brink of collapse.

But as long as you keep moving forward, you haven't lost yet.

The communicator suddenly rang.

"I've arrived," Karl's voice came through. "I brought the energy bars. Get ready to open that door."

Chen Hao opened his eyes.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s see if God will give us a bite to eat.”