As soon as the voice on the communicator finished, Chen Hao stood up. He stretched his wrists and slapped his face a couple of times to clear his head.

“Alright, this is the moment we’ve been waiting for,” he said. “It’s either treasure or scrap metal, I have to take a look either way.”

Susan slung her backpack back on and picked up the emergency light from the ground. The light flickered twice before finally turning on. She held it up to shine the light forward, but the end of the passage was completely dark, and she couldn't see where the door was.

"Aren't you tired?" she asked.

"I'm so tired," Chen Hao said as he walked. "But being hungry is worse than being tired. Right now, all I can think about is food. I even want to kiss a compressed biscuit."

The two returned to the control room. Carl was already standing at the door, carrying a tattered toolbox, with a bandage on his forehead and a pale face.

"You look like you just crawled out of a grave," Chen Hao said.

“It feels about the same,” Carl scoffed. “But I can walk, and I can tighten screws. Don’t even think about leaving me behind.”

Nana looked up from the console: "I've completed the third structural scan. The door is indeed not in the original layout. The wall thickness has been reduced by forty percent, the interior space is sealed, there's no airflow, and no energy leakage."

"In other words, no one has used it or repaired it," Chen Hao said. "It's been hidden quite well."

“Or maybe nobody even knows it exists,” Nana added.

"Then we should definitely go and take a look." Chen Hao looked at the others. "Is everyone ready?"

Susan nodded, and Carl lifted the toolbox. The four of them set off together.

The path to the repair room was difficult. The ceiling was low, the pipes were exposed, and in some places you had to bend over to get through. The air was stuffy, with a metallic rusty smell and the odor of old engine oil.

After walking for about ten minutes, a wall appeared ahead. It looked the same as other walls on the surface, but upon closer inspection, an extremely thin crack was found, running vertically through the wall.

“This is it.” Carl pointed to a small protrusion in the corner. “The manual unlocking bolt is here, but it’s rusted shut.”

Chen Hao crouched down to examine it. It was a round knob, half of the edge of which was welded shut, as if someone had deliberately sealed it off.

“Who would do that?” Susan asked in a low voice.

"I'm afraid someone will open it," Chen Hao said. "Either it contains contraband, or... something that can't be thrown away."

"Don't force it," Nana cautioned. "I detected an abnormal resonant frequency in the door, indicating that there may be a cavity or precision structure inside. Forcing it open could cause it to collapse."

“Then be gentle.” Chen Hao took out a high-pressure nitrogen canister from his backpack. “You said this thing could repressurize last time, now it’s going to do something new.”

He aimed the nozzle at the knob's opening and slowly released the gas. A slight hissing sound rang out, and the dust was gradually blown away.

“It’s loosening a bit.” Carl lay on the ground staring at it. “Five more seconds.”

Chen Hao did as instructed. Then he picked up the wrench and gently tapped the back of the knob. With a click, the latch popped open slightly.

"It's done," he said.

The four held their breath. Chen Hao gripped the knob with both hands and slowly turned it.

At first, it was very tight, as if it hadn't been moved for decades. With a dull metallic scraping sound, the entire door shrank inward and then slid open horizontally.

A cold wind blew out from inside, carrying a faint smell of electricity.

The emergency light shone inside, revealing a small room less than a person's height. The walls were silver-gray metal, and the floor was so clean it didn't look like an abandoned area.

In the very center is a device. It is shaped like an upright cylinder with several heat dissipation ridges on its surface and a dark red indicator light on top that is slowly flashing.

"This thing... is still running?" Susan frowned.

“Impossible,” Carl said. “This old model should have been scrapped long ago.”

Nana immediately stepped forward and placed her palm on the side of the device. A faint light shone from her fingertips as she began reading data.

“Model identification in progress…” she said. “Matching successful. This is the mK-3 fusion voltage regulator unit, designed for energy buffer systems in small and medium-sized spacecraft.”

"Can it be used?" Chen Hao asked.

“Theoretically, yes,” Nana said. “Its core is undamaged, and the fuel level is 62 percent. Although the output power is not high, it is enough to sustain the life support system and basic navigation for three months.”

“Three months!” Susan blurted out. “We had calculated that it wouldn’t last more than ten days!”

"And it's been here all along?" Carl looked around. "Nobody noticed?"

“It’s not in the main power network,” Nana explained. “This device is isolated and not connected to any lines. It may have been temporarily installed by the previous crew and forgotten, or it may have been disconnected during an emergency evacuation.”

"Then why can it still flash?" Chen Hao pointed to the red light.

“Self-sustaining mode,” Nana said. “When the external signal is interrupted for more than 72 hours, it will enter a low-power standby state, periodically perform self-checks and retain basic functions.”

“So it’s been waiting for us,” Susan said softly.

No one spoke.

Just seconds ago they were worried about where their next meal would come from and how to conserve their oxygen supply. Now, a life-saving machine sits quietly in front of them, waiting to be remembered.

“I suddenly realized,” Chen Hao grinned, “that our old, dilapidated ship is actually quite loyal.”

“Don’t get too excited.” Karl reached out and touched the casing. “Whether it will even connect is the real question. This thing has an old-fashioned three-pin interface, while our mainline uses a five-rail slot.”

“I can modify it,” Nana said. “It requires a conversion wire and two stabilizing resistors. If we can find spare parts, we can complete the docking test within two days.”

"Do you have any tools?" Chen Hao asked.

“I have them in my toolbox,” Carl said, “but the resistors have to be removed from other equipment.”

"Let's tear it down," Chen Hao said. "It's going to fall apart anyway, so it's better than starving to death."

Susan chuckled: "Now you're being decisive."

"People become smarter when they're pushed to the limit." Chen Hao squatted down and tapped the base with his hand. "Listen, old buddy, if you really put in the effort, I'll wipe the dust off for you every day from now on."

“Provided it can understand,” Carl said, already checking the interface location.

Nana projected the scan results onto the portable screen. The chart expanded, and rows of parameters popped up.

“The fuel activity is normal, the magnetic field shielding is intact, and although the cooling system is shut down, there are no signs of blockage.” She read out the list one by one. “As long as the power line is not short-circuited, the risk of restarting is less than eight percent.”

“Eight percent is not low,” Susan said.

“But we have no choice.” Chen Hao stood up. “We either try, or we wait for our resources to run out. I’d rather take the gamble.”

Carl nodded: "I'll remove the wires. You help me secure the support frame so the wall doesn't collapse."

"Susan, turn the lights down a bit," Chen Hao said. "Don't let us touch high-voltage electricity in the dark."

"Understood." She moved the lamp forward.

Nana continued to stare at the screen: "I suggest conducting a low-voltage power-on test first, and then connecting it to the main circuit after confirming the control module's response."

"I'll listen to you." Chen Hao held the equipment base. "This thing is worth more than any of us. Don't break it."

Carl opened his toolbox and took out insulated pliers and a wire stripper. He glanced at the connector, then looked up at Chen Hao and said, "Do you know what the most ironic thing is?"

"What?"

"We were exhausted from chasing pirates, battering turbulent waters, and repairing our ship. In the end, what saved us was a lazybones who forgot to unplug his plug."

Chen Hao was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing.

“So,” he patted the equipment, “sometimes being lazy can actually do good.”

Everyone laughed.

Laughter echoed in the cramped space, drowning out the occasional metallic creaking from the ship's hull in the distance.

Nana lowered her head to record the parameters, Susan held onto the lamp without daring to move, Carl began to carefully disassemble the old wiring, and Chen Hao squatted to the side, handing over tools while keeping an eye on the red light.

It's still flashing.

One after another.

Like a heartbeat.