The projector flickered, the light spot swayed, then stabilized. Chen Hao still had his eyes closed, his fingers resting on the edge of the table, his breathing slowly becoming calm.
Nana stood motionless in front of the control panel, the optical mirror scanning his facial contours, the data stream rolling in the corner of his field of vision—low heart rate, disordered brainwave frequency, and blink intervals prolonged by forty percent.
She pulled up her records from the past thirty days. Her sleep duration was getting shorter and shorter, her error rate was rising from 3.2% to 8.7%, and on three occasions she paused for more than ten seconds while entering commands, as if she had forgotten what to do next.
"Are you asleep?" she asked.
Chen Hao's eyelids twitched, and he opened them a crack. "No, I was thinking about something."
"You were in a light sleep state for six minutes and seventeen seconds, during which you experienced two micro-awakenings."
“That counts as thinking.” He sat up straight and rubbed his temples. “People can’t stay tense all the time, right? I’m not like you, I can’t be on 24/7.”
“But you need to stay focused now,” she said. “The irrigation system has just finished its tutorial adaptation, the drainage module hasn’t even started training yet, and the sheep pen temperature control will be entering its automatic adjustment cycle next week.”
"So you're just using a bunch of data to say I'm dying?"
“I’m stating the facts.” She threw the report on the wall. “Look at this curve. This is your daily cognitive reaction speed. It’s been declining since day 370. Now it’s at its lowest point.”
Chen Hao stared at the crooked line for two seconds, then reached out and turned it off. "I know I've been a bit tired lately. But who isn't? There's no one here to chat with except you, who can talk."
"I can chat with you."
"What are you going to talk about? 'According to database records, humans experience social hallucinations on average every seventy-three days in a lonely environment'? Forget it."
"You just said that no one is chatting with you, which means you've already realized the problem."
“I’m not…” He paused, realizing he couldn’t refute it, “Okay, I admit it, I’m a little annoyed. Annoyed by these buttons, annoyed by these alarms, annoyed by having to work every day as soon as I open my eyes.”
Nana paused for a few seconds. “I suggest adjusting the functional layout of the living area. Transform the east greenhouse into a sensory-regulating space, and plant blue-veined vanilla and soft-light vine. The volatile components they release have a stabilizing effect on the nervous system.”
"Planting flowers?"
"It's an environmental intervention therapy."
“This is a base, not a park,” he waved his hand. “Don’t waste resources. I’ll build you a welcome garden when aliens come to visit.”
"You don't have to participate. I can do it myself."
“Then go ahead and do it.” He leaned back in his chair. “Anyway, I don’t believe this thing can make me happy.”
Nana turned and left the control room. Chen Hao sat alone, his fingers tapping on the table again. After a few taps, he stopped and looked up at the ceiling.
Half an hour later, he walked to the entrance of the greenhouse on the east side.
Nana is dismantling the old support frame. The resin panels are being removed piece by piece and piled up in the corner, revealing the original metal mesh on the ground.
"Why are you here?" She didn't turn around.
"I see you're really serious about this." He walked in. "You're ignoring everything I say?"
"You said you didn't have to come."
“I didn’t want to come.” He looked around, “but I was afraid you would connect the main irrigation valve to the wrong place, and then all the vegetables would be flooded, and I would have to fish them out.”
Nana stopped what she was doing. "You want to help?"
“I want to keep an eye on you so nothing happens to you,” he said. “After all, you’re the only one who can fix things.”
She handed him a wrench. "Unscrew the floor clips in section B; I need to re-lay the water pipes."
Chen Hao squatted down to work. When he was tightening the third screw, his hand slipped, and the tool hit his foot.
"Does it hurt?" Nana asked.
"It doesn't hurt." He picked up the wrench. "It's just that I feel like I'm getting clumsier and clumsier doing this job."
"Your motor coordination has decreased by 12 percent compared to last week."
"You still remember this kind of number?"
“I record all the data.”
He snorted and continued tightening the screws. After a while, he suddenly asked, "You say planting these grasses is really useful?"
“Earth psychology research shows that the aroma of certain plants can reduce anxiety levels.”
"What if it doesn't work?"
"Then let's treat it as landscaping."
"Easy for you to say." He stood up and stretched his shoulders. "My back hurts from standing for too long."
"It is recommended to take a break midway."
“The more you rest, the more tired you become.” He walked to the window, where the wasteland stretched out before him, a hazy gray expanse. “Back when I lived, there was a park downstairs. I would lie there every day, sunbathing, and order takeout. Now, even lying down requires queuing.”
"You can lie down now."
"I'm not in the mood."
"This is one of the symptoms."
Chen Hao rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He took the flower trough from Nana, and the two of them carried it to its place together. After the pipes were connected, Nana started the water supply test, and water dripped down, accumulating into a small puddle in the empty trough.
She turned on the stereo and played a sound: water droplets falling into the pond, leaves rustling in the wind, and a faint sound like wind chimes in the distance.
"What's this?" Chen Hao frowned.
"Preset background sound effects to help regulate your breathing rhythm."
"It sounds like the beginning of a horror movie."
"You don't have to listen."
"Never mind." He sat down. "Anyway, there's no other noise."
They continued installing the scaffolding. Chen Hao was in charge of securing the ladder, while Nana climbed up to connect the shade netting. By afternoon, most of the structure was complete. The blue-veined vanilla seedlings were transplanted into the flower beds, their leaves gleaming with a pale silvery-blue sheen.
"That's about it." Chen Hao wiped his sweat. "Shall we finish moving the rest tomorrow?"
“It has to be done today,” Nana said. “The light program needs to be started before sunset, otherwise it will affect the growth rhythm.”
"Do you really have to time it perfectly?"
"Plants also have their own routines."
Chen Hao sighed and moved a ladder to install the top beam. He stepped onto the second step and reached for the bracket connector.
My foot slipped.
The ladder tilted, and he lost his balance and fell backward.
Nana leaped down instantly, her arms outstretched, the mechanical joints humming softly. Two hydraulic plates popped out from within her arms, activating the anti-gravity device, and the air on the ground seemed to freeze for a moment.
Chen Hao landed on a soft area, as if he had fallen into a thick mattress.
He froze for a few seconds, then caught his breath. "You... caught me?"
"Buffering successful." Nana put away the device. "You are not injured."
"I thought I was going to fall flat on my face." He pushed himself up and sat up. "You can use this function like that?"
"Temporary modification".
"Next time, could you please tell me in advance that you have this ability? You scared me to death."
"Too late."
Chen Hao leaned against the wall to stand up, his legs still a little weak. He took a few deep breaths and then stopped.
"Wait... this smell?"
A bittersweet scent wafted in the air, like mint mixed with wild chrysanthemum.
“Blue Vein Vanilla Volatile Agent,” Nana said. “The concentration has reached the effective range.”
Chen Hao didn't speak, but stood there smelling the air for a while. His heartbeat gradually calmed down from its rapid pace.
“I didn’t actually slip just now,” he said softly. “When I was standing, my mind suddenly went blank. I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing.”
“This is a typical case of attention dissociation,” Nana said. “It’s a common reaction in long-term high-pressure isolation environments.”
“So you’re right.” He looked at the newly planted plants. “This place… seems to actually be of some use.”
"You need to spend at least thirty minutes here every day."
"Thirty minutes?" He smiled wryly. "I can't even sit still for ten minutes now."
"You can start with five minutes."
Chen Hao walked to the newly decorated resin bench and sat down. Sunlight streamed through the roof, and the temperature was just right. The herbs swayed gently in the breeze, and the dewdrops on their leaves sparkled.
He closed his eyes.
Nana stood to the side, and monitoring data showed that his cortisol levels were slowly decreasing.
Three minutes later, he opened his eyes. "I'm hungry."
"There are still two hours until dinner time."
“I know.” He stood up. “But I just don’t want to stay here anymore. Staying too long will only make me more tired.”
"This is a normal reaction. Adaptation takes time."
"So I have to do it repeatedly?"
"yes."
"It's like clocking in for work." He patted his pants. "Then remember to remind me. Otherwise, I'll forget again."
"I will set up a timed notification."
"Alright." He walked towards the door, glancing back at the garden. "Don't play that wind chime sound next time; it's kind of creepy."
"It can be replaced."
"Change to some light music? Jay Chou's will do."
"It's included in the database."
"Then pick one." He walked to the door, then stopped. "Hey."
"I am here."
"Thank you... for not letting me break."
Nana didn't answer. She simply brought up the background program, marked today's events as "Successful Phase 1 of Psychological Intervention," and generated a plan for tomorrow's sunlight and fragrance release.
Chen Hao walked out of the greenhouse, his figure gradually disappearing into the distance.
Nana stood still, the optical mirror slightly rotating to lock onto his walking trajectory.
Suddenly, her system alarm went off softly.
An abnormal gait frequency was detected in the target object, and the left shoulder swing amplitude decreased by 18%.
She was about to send a reminder message.
Chen Hao suddenly stopped, his right hand gripping the wall, his left hand pressed against his chest.
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