When Chen Hao took off his helmet, his hands were still trembling. Not from fear, but from the cold. On the way back from the deep sea, the temperature control system of his new diving suit malfunctioned, and he had to rely on his body fat to tough it out for the latter half of the journey.
"It was worth it." He rubbed his face and said to Nana in front of the control panel, "Did you bring back the light?"
"All seven samples have been successfully stored." Nana turned around, her mechanical finger pointing towards the laboratory. "The temporary chamber has been activated to simulate the deep-sea environment, with temperature, salinity, and pressure maintained at the values at the time of collection."
"Don't let it die yet." Chen Hao took off his soaking wet inner lining. "Otherwise, we'll have wasted our time soaking in the water."
Susan walked in carrying a recording tablet, her hair plastered to her temples. "Sample number three is starting to wilt, with a 60% drop in light intensity. The others are also showing varying degrees of degradation."
"Not adapted to land?" Karl followed behind, wringing the water out of his shoes. "I told you this thing can only live on the seabed."
“It’s not death.” Nana pulled up the data chart. “The cells are still active, but the osmotic imbalance is causing water loss. The culture medium formula needs to be adjusted.”
"Can you figure it out?"
“The knowledge base has a corresponding model.” She paused for a moment, “Adding trace amounts of magnesium ions and organic colloids can stabilize the cell membrane.”
"Let's do it then." Chen Hao slammed his hand on the table and stood up. "I don't want to have to carry batteries next time I go underwater."
No one objected. Carl, though saying he was "exhausted," still went to the tool shed and retrieved the outer casing of an old oxygen cylinder. Susan began preparing the solution, while Nana connected the analyzer to rescan the sample structure.
Three hours later, the first dose of the modified culture medium was injected into the temporary chamber. The edges of the wilted vines slowly regained their luster, and the blue light returned, weak but persistent.
“Okay.” Chen Hao leaned closer to the observation window. “They can still be saved.”
“It’s not just about saving it.” Nana pulled up the spectrum. “Its luminescence mechanism relies on the slow oxidation of sulfides, with a stable energy release. Theoretically, its lifespan exceeds three years.”
"What do you mean?"
“It doesn’t need charging, it won’t burn out, and it doesn’t get hot,” she said. “As long as the environment is suitable, it can stay lit.”
“That’s a lamp.” Karl was stunned. “A living lamp?”
“It’s easier than using an electric light,” Chen Hao grinned. “And you don’t even need to run a wire.”
Susan looked up: "If placed in the hallway and storage area, it can cover more than 70% of the basic lighting needs. The annual electricity savings are equivalent to the load of two backup generators."
"Then replace them." Chen Hao gave the order directly, "Remove all the old lights in the east passage and try planting one."
“You make it sound so easy.” Carl walked over carrying the empty bottle shell. “This thing is vine, not wire. How are we supposed to install it?”
“Encapsulation,” Susan said. “Wrapped in a transparent gel, mimicking the environment of a deep-sea membrane. It keeps the water moist but allows light to pass through.”
“Sounds like raising bugs in jelly,” Carl muttered.
“You’re in charge of making the frame,” Chen Hao said, pointing at him. “Take those discarded oxygen cylinders and convert them into hanging troughs, adding a nutrient pad layer in the middle.”
"I'm not a carpenter."
"You are now."
For the next two days, the east corridor of the base became a construction site. Carl got sparks flying through his pants while welding the frame and cursed for half an hour. Susan mixed the gel ratios and repeatedly tested its light transmittance and moisturizing effects. Nana wrote a program to automatically adjust the humidity and ion concentration in the culture tank.
Chen Hao stared back and forth, occasionally reaching out to touch the newly installed tank.
"Don't touch it," Susan stopped him. "It's not stable yet."
I saw it flash.
"You're seeing things."
On the evening of the third day, the last set of culture tanks was installed. Seven sections of vines were fixed in the gel and neatly hung on both sides of the channel. The moment the lights were turned off, a faint blue light slowly emerged.
There was no sound, and no heat.
Only soft light spread across the floor, as if bringing a galaxy from the ocean floor into the room.
“It’s really bright now.” Carl stood in the doorway, still in his slippers. “It’s much brighter than that old lamp by my bedside.”
Chen Hao looked up and put his hands in his pockets. "I won't have to worry about stepping on a wrench when I get up at night anymore."
“I need it to find my slippers.” Carl bent down and looked at his feet. “I think I kicked them somewhere.”
Susan is recording the light intensity. The numbers on the display are stable at around eighty lumens, with very little fluctuation.
Nana updated the energy report: Daily electricity consumption decreased by 41.6% year-on-year.
“We can expand the application scope,” Chen Hao said. “Let’s replace the entire living area first.”
"The air circulation system needs to be adjusted," Nana reminded. "Plants release trace amounts of gases, and long-term accumulation may affect the balance of components."
"Then let's add a filter module." Chen Hao said casually, "It's a small matter."
“Nutrient fluid replenishment also needs to be done regularly,” Susan added. “We can’t just leave it unattended.”
"Just arrange a duty roster," Chen Hao waved his hand. "It's better than changing fuses every day."
Carl squatted in front of the first cultivation tank, staring at the vines inside. "Won't it grow too big and entangle the whole corridor?"
“No.” Nana brought up the growth rate model. “It grows an average of 1.2 centimeters per month, which is manageable.”
"What if it mutates? What if it crawls out in the middle of the night and strangles people?"
“It’s a plant,” Susan said, closing her notebook. “Not a monster.”
“Who knows if things from the deep sea are safe?” Karl shrank back. “You remember those scratches on the rock, right? Who carved them?”
No one responded.
Chen Hao glanced at him. "The problem now is how to get more people to use this light, not a riddle."
“I’m just saying it’s possible.” Carl stood up, patting his pants. “What if it suddenly stops working one day? Wouldn’t we all be blind?”
"Then let's fix it again." Chen Hao walked towards the exit. "There's always a way."
Susan uploaded the data to the main system and made a copy. Nana started the nighttime monitoring program, setting it to automatically check once an hour.
The lights in the base gradually went out. Only that row of blue lights remained quietly lit in the east corridor, stable and silent.
Chen Hao walked to the end and looked back.
The light shone on his face, like a silent response.
The next morning, Carl was the first to arrive in the corridor.
He stood in front of the third culture tank, holding a pair of slippers in his hand, lost in thought.
The color of the vines has changed.
It was originally a uniform deep blue, but now the area near the bottom has turned a bit bluish-gray, and the light is also dimmer than last night.
He looked closer and noticed a fine line on the surface of the gel, as if it were cracked.
"Hey!" he called out, "Susan! Nana! Come and see this!"
Susan came out of the lab when she heard the noise, still holding a pen in her hand.
She walked to the trough and frowned. "It was fine yesterday."
"Is it because you're not getting enough nutrition?" Carl asked.
“Impossible.” Susan checked the interface. “The supply system is normal, and the ion concentration is up to standard.”
Nana walked over, and the scanner lit up. A few seconds later, she said, "Local cell activity is decreased, the cause is unknown."
"Could it be an infection?" Karl took a half step back. "What contaminated it?"
“No traces of foreign microorganisms were found.” Nana continued the testing, “but the oxidation rate in this section decreased by thirty-seven percent.”
"So that means I'm going to die?" Karl's voice rose.
“Not necessarily.” Susan touched the outer wall of the gel. “It’s possible that the environmental adjustments weren’t precise enough.”
“But the other slots are fine,” Carl said, pointing to the side. “Only this one has a problem.”
Chen Hao arrived at that moment. He looked at the faulty section and then at the other normal sections.
“Try a different slot,” he said. “Move it to the middle and see if the problem is in the original spot.”
“I’ll dismantle it right now.” Carl rolled up his sleeves.
Susan recorded the current status and prepared to transfer the sample. Nana recalibrated the monitoring parameters.
Chen Hao stood still. His shadow, stretched long by the blue light, was cast on the wall.
Just as Carl opened the locking clip, the vine suddenly trembled slightly.
It's like breathing.
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