The needle tip flashed in the firelight, and Chen Hao's fingers trembled slightly, causing the thread to veer to one side. He didn't continue, but instead gently inserted the wooden needle into the cork, as if giving it a break.
"We'll talk about reinforcing the trouser legs later." He straightened up, stretched his shoulders, and the leather jacket made a slight rustling sound. The newly made clothes were tight on him, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about being woken up by the cold wind in the middle of the night.
He looked up into the distance; the morning mist hadn't yet dissipated, and the edge of the woods was shrouded in a gray haze. The sun had just risen, its rays slanting across the blades of grass, causing the glistening dewdrops to flash and disappear in an instant.
“You know, we travel so far every day to pick wild vegetables,” he suddenly said. “Not only are we tired, but last time, half of that clump of purple-backed amaranth was eaten by some unknown thing, leaving only the stem.”
Nana stood to the side, the blue light slowly sweeping across her eyes, as if to confirm whether he was about to start talking nonsense again.
"How about... we grow our own?" Chen Hao turned his head. "We have time now, and the clothes are all ready. Shouldn't we start a side business? We can't keep relying on scavenging."
Nana didn't answer immediately. Her camera panned slightly, and a faint blue light spread out from her, like invisible ripples across the ground, rocks, and grass. A few seconds later, the outlines of three areas appeared in the air, each with a different shade of color.
“Three potential planting areas were detected,” she said. “Based on a comprehensive analysis of sunlight, distance to water sources, and terrain, we recommend prioritizing the investigation of forest edge slopes, river bend terraces, and south-facing scree slopes.”
"Hey, it even has a rating system?" Chen Hao leaned over to take a look. "Lin Yuan's is pretty good. It's cool under the trees and the sun can shine in. It's like a private room in a farmhouse."
“The area is severely shaded in the morning, with less than four hours of effective sunshine,” Nana said calmly. “The leaf litter layer is an average of 18 centimeters thick, and the humus is highly acidic with a pH of 4.8, which is not suitable for the growth of most edible plants.”
"Only four hours? That can't be right." Chen Hao scratched his head. "When I was a kid, the vegetable garden in my hometown wasn't exposed to the scorching sun every day, and the vegetables still grew pretty well, didn't they?"
“Your vegetable garden has undergone three years of crop rotation improvement and the application of lime to adjust the soil pH,” Nana added casually, “but the current environment does not have such conditions.”
Chen Hao choked for a moment, "You remember this so clearly? I thought you only stored high-tech information."
“All basic agricultural data comes from the Earth Ecosystem Database,” she said, “including a guide to traditional vegetable cultivation methods in 20th-century rural China.”
“Alright, alright, science triumphs over experience.” He waved his hand. “Then let’s go take a look at that ‘ideal plot’ you mentioned.”
The two walked south along the path outside the camp. Chen Hao walked briskly, kicking pebbles as he went, humming a tune that sounded like a fragment of some kind of advertising jingle.
The first stop was a gentle slope at the edge of the forest. The terrain was indeed flat, with a grove of low trees behind it and an open space in front. As soon as Chen Hao arrived, he squatted down, reached out and brushed aside the thick layer of fallen leaves to reveal the dark brown soil underneath.
"Look how loose and soft this soil is!" He rubbed his fingers together. "It's so fertile, anything can grow here."
"The humus has too high a moisture content and poor aeration." Nana took out a thin probe, inserted it into the soil, and withdrew it after a moment. "The organic matter is not completely decomposed and there are a large number of fungal hyphae, which can easily cause root diseases."
"Just tell me if it's possible to plant it," Chen Hao said, frowning.
"If the surface layer is not removed and the plant is not turned over and dried to improve its condition, the survival rate will be less than 30%."
“Then let’s get started!” He stood up and clapped his hands. “I’m a professional when it comes to hands-on skills—you even said I’ve improved my workflow yesterday when I was sewing clothes.”
“It’s a logical fallacy,” Nana said. “Process optimization does not equate to complete agricultural knowledge.”
Chen Hao rolled his eyes. "How come you, robot, are even more critical than my mother?"
The second plot of land is a south-facing gravel flat. There are too many stones, making it uncomfortable to walk on. It's barely possible to level a small area, but its water retention capacity is extremely poor.
"Even grass is too lazy to grow here." Chen Hao shook his head after taking a couple of glances. "Give up."
The last stop was the river bend terrace. The terrain was flat, the sun was shining brightly, and it was less than fifty steps from the river. You could see the water shimmering as soon as you looked up.
"Oh my goodness!" Chen Hao spread his arms and spun around on the spot. "This place is simply blessed by God! Plenty of sunshine, close water, and the soil isn't too hard. Growing vegetables here is like having all the right time, place, and people!"
“This plot of land is located on the first terrace of the river.” Nana projected a dynamic model. “When the rainy season comes, if there is continuous rainfall for more than 48 hours and the water level rises by more than 30 centimeters, this area will be completely submerged within two days.”
In the scene, the river rises rapidly, overflowing the grassland and swallowing the entire terrace, leaving only a few withered grasses floating on the surface.
Chen Hao stared at it for a long time, then muttered, "This is too tragic...it's like a disaster movie."
“This isn’t a simulation effect,” Nana said, turning off the projector. “It’s based on the actual risk probability derived from local weather cycles.”
“But we don’t have to plant it for the rest of our lives,” Chen Hao retorted. “Short-term trial planting is fine, right? We can harvest it before the rainy season, can’t we?”
“Wild vegetables have an average growth cycle of six to eight weeks,” she said. “And the local rainy season can begin to see continuous rainfall as early as the fifth week.”
“Then… we can build ridges and dig drainage ditches!” Chen Hao waved his hand. “Everyone in the village used to do this! Which piece of land wasn’t being cultivated and renovated at the same time?”
“Your village’s land is not in the flood discharge area,” Nana said calmly.
“But there’s no sign saying ‘No Cultivation’ here.” He squatted down, grabbed a handful of soil, and rubbed it in his hands. “Look how dry and uniform this soil is. It’ll thrive if you plant shepherd’s purse or purslane.”
“The topsoil is loose, lacks clay structure, and has poor fertilizer retention capacity.” Nana took another probe sample. “Furthermore, it is close to the river and has a high groundwater level, which can easily lead to root hypoxia.”
"How do you know everything?" Chen Hao looked up at her. "Can't there be even one time when I'm right and you're wrong?"
“I can make mistakes,” Nana said, “but all the data points to a high risk right now.”
“But we can’t just stop farming because we’re afraid of rain, can we?” He raised his voice a little. “Yesterday when we were sewing, you said the parameters weren’t right, but what happened? We adjusted the method, and we still managed to make the clothes, didn’t we?”
“Failure to provide clothing won’t kill anyone,” Nana said, looking at him. “But if the food system collapses, it will directly impact survival.”
The air was still for a few seconds.
Chen Hao looked down at the soil in his hand and slowly scattered it back onto the ground.
"So you mean... you'd rather go without fresh vegetables than wait for a perfect plot of land to appear?"
“I suggest setting up a temporary experimental zone,” Nana said. “We can conduct small-scale trials and monitor soil and hydrological changes simultaneously. If the risks escalate, the trials can be terminated promptly.”
"So...it's possible to grow it?"
"If conditions permit."
Chen Hao grinned. "I knew you'd be accommodating. So that flood warning you gave me just now was purely to scare me, wasn't it?"
"I'm just stating the facts."
“Alright, alright, you are the embodiment of truth.” He stood up, patted his pants, and said, “Then it’s settled—we’ll set aside two square meters of this land to try it out. We’ll plant some easy-to-grow plants, like wild onions and watercress, which grow quickly and are easy to manage.”
Nana nodded, and the blue light flashed as she began recording coordinates and preliminary soil scan data.
Chen Hao bent down and drew a square on the ground with his finger, about one meter square. "This will do. It's an auspicious spot, with the Azure Dragon on the left and the White Tiger on the right... Oh no, there's a river on the left and a river on the right as well."
He straightened up, looked around, and suddenly felt a little dazed.
Yesterday I was worried about my clothes cuffs digging into my arms, and today we're already discussing where to grow vegetables. In just a few days, from not having enough clothes to wanting to grow crops, the progress bar has been faster than a food delivery rider delivering food.
"Do you think we could start a vegetable garden someday?" he suddenly asked. "Build a shed, put up a fence, and raise a couple of chickens?"
“Currently, there are no aquaculture resources or building materials to support this,” Nana said.
“Hey, I don’t really mean to build it.” He waved his hand. “I mean, in case people come later, we can be a demonstration household. Chapter 1 of ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Growing Vegetables on a Wilderness Planet: How to Persuade Robots to Let You Grow Farm’.”
Nana didn't respond, but the blue light flashed slightly, as if it was recording something.
Chen Hao squatted back down beside the patch of land, his fingers tracing the dry, light brown soil, his brow furrowed slightly. The morning breeze ruffled the hem of his newly made leather jacket, and the distant river shimmered with fragments of gold.
He suddenly raised his head.
"Hey, if it really floods, could we make an early warning system? Like sticking a bamboo pole into the riverbank and marking the water level?"
Nana was about to answer—
His fingers suddenly stopped.
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