Chen Hao put his pen on the corner of the table; he hadn't finished writing the last word of the sentence "Why did the sound come from inside the wall?" on his notebook. He stared at the crooked words for two seconds, then reached out and tapped the projection screen, enlarging the cave photo that Nana had shown him.

“Let’s tackle this first,” he said. “The rocks make a sound, and there are patterns on the cave walls; Guo Wu specifically asked about them. This indicates that this matter is not simple.”

Susan immediately nodded. "I also think we should start with the phenomena. The blue crystals heating up at night and the Earth's surface opening and closing like breathing are not isolated events. If we can connect them, we might be able to grasp the laws governing the planet's operation."

She opened her notebook, the pages filled with various arrows and circles, as well as some hastily drawn annotations: "Heat source → crystal → ground expansion" and "Wind sound → resonance → structural feedback".

“Look, these are all clues. We didn’t realize their importance at the time, but looking back now, they are all signals.”

Carl looked up, his brow furrowed. "But the problem is, we're not writing science fiction; we're participating in a research project. What's the use of guessing at phenomena without supporting data?"

He spread the glossary on the coffee table and tapped one of the lines with his finger: “The energy density of lithium vanadium oxide may be more than three times that of current lithium batteries on Earth. If we can determine its distribution and extraction methods, this is not just a scientific discovery, but an energy revolution.”

"So all you're thinking about is mining?" Susan's tone suddenly rose. "We finally got research qualifications, and your first reaction is to calculate how much it's worth?"

“I didn’t say how much it’s worth,” Carl’s voice hardened. “I’m talking about feasibility. Simulations require material parameters, and modeling requires resource distribution maps. If you don’t figure these things out first, how can you verify the ecosystem hypothesis? Just some ideas floating in the air?”

“At least I’m concerned with what the planet itself looks like!” Susan slammed her hand on the table. “Instead of coming up with the idea of ​​dismantling it and selling the parts!”

“I’m not saying I want to tear it down!” Carl stood up, his words quickening. “I mean, research needs to be done systematically! You can’t expect a lab to create a rattling rock out of thin air, can you? They need to know its composition, structure, and formation conditions. These all fall under the category of resource exploration.”

“But we don’t even understand why it makes a sound!” Susan retorted. “How do you know which stone to start analyzing? Are you like the blind men and the elephant?”

The two stared at each other, neither willing to back down.

Nana sat beside her, her eyes slightly darting, as if she were processing information rapidly. When she spoke, her tone was calm: "Based on existing data, the average cycle for ecological observation studies is eight to twelve weeks, requiring the deployment of multi-dimensional sensors; resource exploration studies can complete preliminary sampling and modeling within four cycles, but rely on existing geological frameworks."

She paused for a moment, then said, "Both tasks can be started, but the team currently has limited manpower, so priorities must be clearly defined."

Chen Hao looked down at the line he had written, then looked up at Susan's excited face, and then at Carl's tense expression. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but then closed it again.

“You all… have a point.” He finally spoke. “Susan is right, those phenomena are definitely related. But we really can’t get their lab to simulate a geological structure that makes sounds out of thin air. Carl is right too, without basic data, we can’t do anything.”

“Then let’s do a resource survey first,” Carl said. “Once we have the mineral composition and rock sample parameters, we can come back and explain the phenomenon.”

“No way,” Susan shook her head. “Once the direction is set, all subsequent funding and manpower will be poured into it. If you try to switch back to ecological research later, nobody will listen to you. That’s the reality.”

"So what do you plan to do?" Carl asked. "Have us write a report titled 'Philosophical Reflections on a Singing Cave'?"

"At least it sounds more like a scientific project than 'How to efficiently mine alien minerals'!"

"Enough." Chen Hao suddenly raised his hand. "Stop arguing."

The room fell silent immediately.

He rubbed his temples, feeling a slight throbbing in his head. The excitement he felt during the meeting was long gone, replaced by a feeling of tightness in his chest.

“We’re all just getting started,” he said. “Guo Wu was willing to let us join because we’ve seen those things with our own eyes. It’s not because we know a lot of theory, but because we know what has happened there.”

He pointed to the cave photos on the projector, "This cave, this rock, these things are real. No matter which direction we choose, we will eventually have to come back to them."

“The problem is that we have to choose now.” Carl sat down, his tone softening. “The project team needs to submit the first phase of the research plan next week. We need to provide specific topics and implementation plans.”

“Then let’s register both together,” Susan said.

“Impossible,” Nana responded. “Official procedures require each collaborating unit to submit only one main research direction. Duplicate submissions will be considered invalid proposals.”

Susan bit her lip and didn't say anything.

Chen Hao stared at the screen, his mind switching back and forth. On one hand, there was Susan's talk of "rules," and on the other, Carl's talk of "practicality." He didn't want to favor either of them, but both of them seemed to be right.

"How about... a compromise?" he tentatively suggested. "We can initiate the project under the guise of resource exploration, but simultaneously record ecological phenomena during data collection? For example, while analyzing rock composition, we can also measure its resonance frequency?"

“It’s feasible in name only,” Nana replied. “But in practice, without a dedicated budget, additional observations may not be included in the formal results.”

"So, all that work for nothing?" Susan sneered. "All the data we painstakingly collected, only half of it will be accepted?"

“It’s better than doing nothing,” Carl said. “At least we get access to the lab and the specialized equipment. We can borrow their instruments and do some other tests while we’re at it, right?”

“You’re skirting the line,” Susan said, staring at him. “And do you think they won’t notice? If you’re found to have deviated from the research topic, your entire collaboration qualification could be revoked.”

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Carl snapped. "The four of us sitting here with a tablet and expect to rebuild the ecosystem? Are you dreaming?"

“I’m not saying we can build it right now!” Susan stood up. “I’m saying we have to stick to the essentials! The most special thing about this planet isn’t how many minerals it has, but that it doesn’t conform to any known laws of nature! A rock can make a sound, a piece of land can breathe like lungs—this goes beyond the realm of resources!”

“Science won’t accept you just because you’re ‘special’,” Karl retorted. “It requires a chain of evidence and reproducible results. You can’t produce samples, models, or even a decent dataset right now. You can’t survive the second meeting just by telling stories.”

"So you'd rather treat it as an untapped mine?"

"I just want the research to continue!"

With a "smack," Chen Hao slammed his pen on the table.

"That's enough!" he yelled. "I've heard enough!"

The two of them turned to look at him at the same time.

He took a breath and lowered his voice: "I know you're not doing this for yourselves. Susan wants to understand how that world works, and Carl wants people to believe what we say. I understand."

He paused for a moment, then said, "But I don't know what to choose now. You all have valid points, but I can't decide which path to lead everyone down alone."

The room fell silent again.

Nana said softly, "I suggest we hold a vote."

"This isn't something that can be solved by voting," Chen Hao waved his hand. "It's a matter of direction. If people disagree after the vote, the team will still fall apart."

Susan sat back down on the sofa, clutching her laptop, her eyes still stubborn.

Carl looked down and flipped through the terminology table, his finger forcefully tracing a line as if trying to cut out the words.

The projection screen was still lit, and the photos of the cave hung silently in the air, their groove-like patterns resembling unsolved engravings.

Chen Hao reached for his pen and wrote a new sentence on his notebook:

"If a stone makes a sound, what is it trying to tell us?"

He had just finished writing when his phone vibrated.

New information from Guo Wu:

"Is there a backup of the audio recordings from the Wind Sound Cave? We'd like to do an acoustic spectrum analysis."

Chen Hao raised his head and looked at the three of them.

“We never recorded any sound,” he said. “Back then, who would have thought… a rock could sing?”

Susan jumped to her feet. "Wait, I remember! There was a buzzing sound outside the tent that night. I thought it was equipment malfunction, but Carl said it wasn't electronic noise—"

“There was a low-frequency vibration,” Carl nodded. “I initially thought it was a micro-earthquake.”

“That was the sound,” Susan said, her voice trembling. “We missed the most crucial piece of evidence.”

Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his finger hovering over the reply box.

He slowly typed out a line of text:

“We don’t have an audio backup, but we can try to reconstruct the scene.”

He paused before sending it.

Nana suddenly spoke up: "According to the log records, there were a total of seventeen abnormal sonic fluctuations during the mission, with the longest duration being four minutes and thirty-six seconds. The last one occurred two hours before the evacuation."

Chen Hao raised his head.

"You knew all along?"

Nana's eyes flickered slightly.

"I thought it was just ambient noise."