As soon as it was light, Nana stood in front of the control panel in the planting shed. The data stream on the screen kept scrolling, and she stared at those few lines of green characters for a long time.
Chen Hao was still sitting in the corner folding chair, his head tilted to one side, fast asleep. His coat had slipped to the floor, and an empty bottle rolled around at his feet. He snored, his hand jerked, and he almost fell off the chair.
Nana didn't say anything, but simply dimmed the lights by five percent.
A few minutes later, Chen Hao suddenly opened his eyes, his neck cracking from stiffness. "Holy crap... he was sleeping so soundly?" He propped himself up on his knees, his legs throbbing from numbness. "What time is it?"
"6:17," Nana said. "The crop is in an abnormal state."
"What?" He rubbed his eyes and walked to the edge of the shed. He peeled back a radish leaf and frowned immediately. "Why are these leaves yellow? They were fine yesterday."
“The growth rate is 37% lower than the theoretical value,” she said. “The temperature and humidity are normal, but the light distribution is uneven and there is a lack of spectrum in some areas.”
Chen Hao squatted down to look at the LED light, then looked up at the plastic canopy. "Is the layer of dust on top too thick? It's blocking the light."
“The dust coverage is less than three percent, so the impact is negligible.” Nana pulled up a heat map. “The problem is that the output in the blue light band is too low, and the existing light source cannot meet the needs of root and tuber crops in the early stages of development.”
"Do you have a solution?"
“Yes.” She tapped her finger, and a piece of program code popped up on the screen: “Adjust the light cycle to ten hours of strong light, two hours of weak light, and twelve hours of darkness, and increase the proportion of blue light to 40%.”
"It sounds like a nightclub party." Chen Hao grinned. "Okay, change it."
Nana began reprogramming. A few seconds later, the light flickered twice and turned into a cool white light.
"Okay," she said.
"What about the soil?" Chen Hao poked at the black mud in the seedling tray with his finger. "I think it's a bit hard."
"The soil density is 1.3 grams per cubic centimeter, indicating a 22% decrease in permeability." After scanning the results, Nana immediately gave her conclusion, "It is recommended to inject inert gas to improve porosity."
"Stop with all that nonsense." Chen Hao shook his head. "I remember when we used to grow vegetables, if the soil got hard, we'd mix in some sand and rotten leaves to improve aeration and fertilize the soil."
“That’s not feasible,” she immediately objected. “Dried leaves carry unknown microorganisms and could cause cross-infection.”
“We can’t just let the potatoes suffocate in the soil, can we?” He stood up, walked around the shed, and suddenly his eyes lit up. “Wait, isn’t there a pile of volcanic rock particles behind the warehouse? They’re leftover from when the underfloor heating was installed. They were burned at high temperatures and are clean.”
“It’s usable.” Nana nodded after confirming. “After processing, it can be used as a filling medium.”
The two immediately got to work. Chen Hao brought over half a bag of volcanic rock granules, filtered out the powder with a sieve, and then mixed it into the soil. The black nutrient soil immediately became loose, and could be easily crushed with a handful.
"That's the only way to survive." He clapped his hands.
Three days later, in the afternoon, Chen Hao was inspecting the shed when he suddenly stopped in front of the third row of seedling trays.
"Huh?" He bent down and approached a potato plant, turned over the leaves and saw several small white worms, about the size of sesame seeds, crawling on the back of the plant, huddled together and wriggling.
"Nana! Something's happened!"
She appeared instantly beside her, her optical lens aimed at the leaf. "Mimic mealybugs have a short reproductive cycle and spread rapidly."
"Can we kill him?"
"Standard pesticides are ineffective. It is recommended to seal off the isolation area and activate ultraviolet sterilization lamps."
"No way!" Chen Hao waved his hand. "If the lights are on, the seedlings will be roasted too."
"So you have a solution?"
“Of course.” He turned and walked out. “Go to the kitchen and get a few dried chilies.”
"use?"
"Homemade insect repellent." He turned around and smiled. "My dad used to treat aphids this way when I was a kid, and it always worked."
In the kitchen, he chopped up the chili peppers, soaked them in hot water, added some soap flakes, and stirred. Nana, watching nearby, calculated the concentration using a model, and after confirming that a low dose of capsaicin would not damage the plant cell structure, she agreed to use it.
They sprayed each plant individually with small spray bottles, working from morning till night, and it took them four hours to finish all the plants.
"I'm exhausted." Chen Hao slumped in his chair, unable to even lift his arms. "Where did these bugs come from? Our base is sealed like a can."
"It cannot be ruled out that it may have adhered to the surface of the seeds or the packaging materials," Nana said. "A pretreatment process needs to be established subsequently."
"I'll let you know in advance next time," he muttered. "I don't want to be a human sprayer anymore."
On the morning of the fifth day, the data comparison was completed.
Most of the radishes and potatoes have recovered their growth, with their leaves turning a darker color and their stalks becoming much thicker. But the two radishes in the far corner are still drooping and haven't grown at all.
"I suggest removing it." Nana pointed to the screen. "The survival rate is less than 20%, and continuing to invest resources in it is too costly."
"No way." Chen Hao walked over and squatted down in front of the two radishes. "They haven't resigned themselves to their fate yet, so what gives you the right to sentence them to death?"
"This is a scientific decision."
"Science also needs to consider human feelings." He reached out and touched the withered yellow leaves. "Give me three more days."
Nana paused for a few seconds. "Okay. But the intervention process needs to be recorded."
"No problem." He stood up and looked around. "Do you still have any wood ash?"
"About three kilograms were stored in an iron drum on the west side of the warehouse."
"Give it to me," he said. "Soaking wood ash in water helps replenish potassium."
He personally prepared the solution, erring on the side of too low a concentration, and poured it into the soil little by little. Then he found a discarded heating pad and placed it under the seedling tray to prevent the roots from getting cold.
On the seventh night, he went to check as usual.
From the center of those two radish plants, tender green leaves sprouted, so thin they were translucent, yet they stood straight and tall.
"It's alive." He laughed. "I knew it."
Nana came over and scanned the area. "Chlorophyll content has returned to the normal range, and root activity has increased. The combined intervention was effective."
“You see, sometimes machines don’t calculate accurately,” he said, pointing to the new leaves. “That’s hope.”
“It’s a biological stress response,” she said. “Not hope.”
“It’s the same thing.” He yawned. “Anyway, it hasn’t given up.”
On the morning of the eighth day, the entire greenhouse was in a stable state. The drip irrigation system was operating regularly, the lights were switching on schedule, and the temperature control was automatically adjusting. The average growth rate of all crops had recovered to more than 80% of the theoretical value.
Chen Hao sat in a chair, holding a newly sprouted radish leaf in his hand, and gently rubbed it. The leaf was soft and slightly damp.
“This is getting interesting,” he said.
Nana stood in front of the control panel, uploading the latest data to the log database. The progress bar reached 100%, and a notification sound rang.
"The survival rate has increased to 89.6%," she said. "The trend is positive."
"Once they grow up, we'll be able to eat fresh vegetables." He looked up at the light. "The first stir-fried radish dish must have garlic in it."
"Our garlic stock is insufficient to support long-term cooking plans," she cautioned.
"Then let's just stir-fry it." He didn't care. "It's better than freeze-dried food."
He looked down and took a sip of hot water, noticing a layer of limescale buildup at the bottom of the cup. He casually placed it on the floor, near the heating pad.
Nana suddenly turned her head and glanced at the sensor in the corner.
The value fluctuated slightly.
She didn't say anything, but simply increased the local temperature control precision by 0.3 degrees.
Chen Hao was still staring at that leaf.
The lights suddenly flickered once.
He looked up.
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