The light was still on, casting its glow on the spread-out blueprint on the corner of the table. Chen Hao had just written the three characters for "firewood shed" crookedly, his wrist flicking, the pen tip drawing a half-line of ink.
Just then, the light bulb above my head flickered twice, as if someone had slapped me on the back of the head.
Nana stood in front of the control panel, the blue light in her eyes instantly turning red, and her voice tightening: "Abnormal fluctuations in atmospheric pressure, the front of the cold wave is expected to arrive in 48 hours, with peak wind speeds exceeding level 15."
Chen Hao's hand trembled, and the remaining half-sip of hot drink in the cup spilled onto his thigh. He didn't bother to wipe it off, but just stared blankly up at the table: "Isn't there still seventy-two days left?"
“The original prediction model was based on stable airflow data.” Nana spoke faster. “Three hours ago, the polar vortex shifted, and the cold front’s advance speed increased by 43 percent.”
Chen Hao looked down at the wet stains on his pants, then looked up at her: "So now, we've gone from 'slowly getting through the winter' to 'the countdown to emergency repairs'?"
“To be precise, we completed the reinforcement of the entire base in 72 hours.” A projection appeared in Nana’s palm, and the building structure diagram quickly unfolded, with yellow warning dots appearing on the surface. “Priority sorting has been completed: door and window sealing, roof joints, ventilation opening protection, and energy pipeline insulation.”
Chen Hao put the cup on the table and stood up: "Fine, I wasn't planning on getting a good night's sleep anyway."
He rushed into the storage room, kicking aside an empty pottery jar blocking his path. His tool bag spilled out, revealing stone axes, ropes, and wooden wedges scattered on the floor. He crouched down, rummaged around for a moment, then picked up a thick plank and weighed it in his hand: "This thing can probably hold out a gust of wind, right?"
“Insufficient wind resistance.” Nana appeared behind them, her robotic arm gently pushing another reinforced panel. “I recommend using the old protective panel removed from the south wall; it’s stronger.”
"You should have said so earlier!" Chen Hao turned around to move it, but got stuck in the door frame for a long time. "Who designed this? Even a pig could squeeze through, but a person gets stuck."
“You were the one who said last time that ‘the door should be wide enough to make it easy to carry the prey in,’” Nana said calmly. “At that time, you didn’t specify the size of the species.”
“I wanted to lift a deer! Not a dinosaur!” He finally squeezed out, staggering a few steps while carrying the board. “Next time I make a request, I will definitely add a note: only small and medium-sized mammals are allowed.”
---
The east-side window frame was the first to be worked on. Six wooden planks were nailed together in the shape of a cross, crisscrossing to cover the window gaps. Chen Hao's arm trembled with soreness as he swung the hammer to drive the nails in.
“Your movements are inefficient.” Nana looked at it for two seconds, then walked over and took the hammer. “The angle of your wrist is off by seventeen degrees from the optimal trajectory.”
"Then you do it?" Chen Hao let go, rubbing his shoulder. "I'll supervise the work and check if you're slacking off."
Nana gripped the hammer with one hand, each strike landing precisely on the center of the nail head, her rhythm as steady as a metronome. Five minutes later, the entire window was sealed shut, not even a crack remained.
"The east side is complete, with a sealing rate of 98.6%," she reported. "The west side window frame has a higher deformation rate and needs to be corrected before sealing."
Chen Hao was about to go over to help when he slipped and almost stepped on the nail he had thrown. "Hey, can we send a notice to these little things? Like, 'Construction today, please do not roll around'?"
“They don’t have the ability to receive instructions,” Nana said, bending down to pick one up. “But I can suggest you wear shoes while working.”
"The soles of my shoes are worn through a long time ago," he muttered. "How about we divide the work? You take care of everything with 'precision' in the name, and I'll take care of all the breathing-intensive tasks?"
"This mode is already in use by default."
The two worked together seamlessly. Chen Hao pried open the rusted clips, while Nana used a robotic arm to directly tighten the bolts; he handed her the materials, and she installed and secured them. In less than three hours, all the windows and vents were sealed.
"The last seam on the west side has been patched up." Chen Hao wiped his sweat and looked at the gray-purple sky outside the window. "The wind hasn't come yet, but I already feel cold."
“Psychological expectations can affect the perceived temperature,” Nana said. “It is recommended to supplement calorie intake.”
"Let me nail the last board up first." He picked up the ladder and walked outside. "I still need to check the roof."
---
The ladder creaked as it touched the wall, as if it were about to give up at any moment. Halfway up, Chen Hao turned back and asked, "Do you think this thing can support me?"
“The current weight-bearing capacity is within a safe range,” Nana said, looking up. “But your weight distribution is not conducive to balance.”
"Thank you, I'm glad you still remember I was fat." He continued climbing and finally reached the edge of the roof.
The tiles were a bit loose at the joint, so he grabbed a wooden wedge and tried to wedge them in. He'd only knocked twice when Nana's voice came from below: "Stop moving them! There's a structural problem at the joint on the right front."
Chen Hao stopped what he was doing: "How big of a problem?"
“A 0.3 mm crack, located at the main cabin connection.” Nana marked it with a red circle in her palm. “If left untreated, the metal’s ductility will decrease in low-temperature environments, potentially causing localized cracking.”
"You can see something so small?" He leaned closer for a look. "I can't even see where the crack is."
"My visual resolution is 0.01 millimeters."
"Then you must have crushed everyone in the exam." Chen Hao smiled wryly. "I didn't even need to do the math on the physics paper, I could just look at the answers."
"Exams are not within my scope of function."
He jumped down the ladder and followed Nana into the storage cabinet to rummage through the materials. When they took out the resin bottle, only one-third remained.
"Not enough?" Nana confirmed after scanning, "The current supply can cover 61% of the high-risk areas."
"Then let's save our lives first." Chen Hao unscrewed the bottle cap and took a sniff. "The smell is quite strong."
"Low-temperature resistant epoxy resin, the volatile substances can cause slight irritation to the respiratory tract." Nana put on protective gloves. "It is recommended to wear a simple face mask while working."
Where is the mask?
"Not yet made."
"...When you gave your suggestion just now, did you forget the premise?"
“There is indeed a break in the logic chain.” She paused. “I’m sorry.”
Chen Hao waved his hand: "Forget it, I'll just bear with it. It'll only be for a little while anyway."
They climbed onto the roof, and Nana used a fine-nozzle nozzle to evenly inject resin into the gaps. Chen Hao stood beside her, steadying the container, his hands trembling as if he were lifting dumbbells.
"Are you nervous?" Nana asked.
"It's not that I'm nervous, it's that I'm cold." He grinned. "And this bottle is almost empty, I'm afraid of spilling even a drop."
"The remaining amount is sufficient to complete the filling of the primary area."
"What about the secondary areas?"
"Cover it temporarily with waterproof cloth, and repair it later."
"It sounds like a makeshift patch." Chen Hao stared at the distant mountain silhouette. "Hopefully, it won't crack open on its own."
“I will continue to monitor stress changes.” Nana put away her tools. “The next step is to check the junction between the ground moisture barrier and the exterior wall.”
"Digging again?" Chen Hao wailed. "I just got up here!"
"No need for deep excavation, surface inspection is sufficient."
"That's alright." He patted his leg. "But speaking of which, your alarm went off at just the right time, interrupting my idea of writing in my diary."
“You wrote down ‘Winter Preparations’ yesterday.”
"It's embarrassing to change the plan before even filling a single page." He scratched his head. "Now it's become an 'emergency repair log'."
“Documenting the process helps with post-mortem analysis,” Nana said. “For example, ‘detecting roof cracks early to avoid major losses.’”
"Sounds like an end-of-year summary," Chen Hao laughed. "If someone actually comes to rescue us in the future, will they think we're having an infrastructure construction competition when they see this notebook?"
"The possibility exists."
"The first prize is a return boat ticket, and the second prize is a thermal undershirt." He stood up and stretched, his bones cracking. "Let's get back to work. Let's try to make this shabby house look habitable before the wind comes."
---
By the time the last piece of tarpaulin was nailed onto the slope, it was completely dark. The wind began to sweep across the ground, carrying a force that threatened to overturn everything.
Nana brought up the sealing report on the console, and the red warning dots went out one by one. Only the seam on the roof was still flashing, marked "Under Repair".
"The main structural protection is 89 percent complete," she said. "The remaining part will be completed tomorrow."
Chen Hao sat at the control panel, holding a cup of hot water, his clothes covered in sawdust and resin stains. He stared intently at the red light, his gaze never leaving it.
"Do you think you can hold on?" he suddenly asked.
“With the current measures, the wind resistance can reach level 12,” Nana replied. “If it exceeds this value, we cannot guarantee it.”
"That means it can't be guaranteed."
"All predictions have a margin of error."
He took a sip of hot water, which burned his mouth, but he didn't put the cup down.
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have skipped those electives,” he said. “At least I would have studied civil engineering, and we wouldn’t be relying on you to support us now.”
"You are also involved in the construction now."
"I'm a bricklayer," he said with a self-deprecating laugh, "the kind who takes three steps and then rests twice."
Nana didn't say anything, but quietly switched the background program to "material consumption simulation", and the numbers on the screen jumped rapidly.
The wind outside was picking up, and a slight creaking sound came from somewhere on the roof.
Chen Hao looked up at the ceiling, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything.
Nana's robotic arm slightly adjusted its angle, turning towards the ladder.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com