Tang Yue stabbed a shovel into the soil with all his might, the vertical handle appearing like a tombstone.

Although he was supposed to head out and do his daily chores, Tang Yue had begun digging a pit with a shovel after he had finished moving the solar panels.

He had chosen a prime location that wasn’t too far from the Eagle. The ground was flat, and there was a shallow ditch ahead with a hill behind. In Chinese geomancy parlance, good sites for burials usually had mountain peaks at the back and rivers or lakes running in front. In the book “Burial,” written by Guo Pu, a famous geomancy theorist from the Jin dynasty, one had to follow water-related principles as they were essential. Tang Yue had no idea if such principles worked on Mars, for the godforsaken place hadn’t had water for millions of years.

Tang Yue dug a shallow pit and estimated the size with his footsteps. It was about two meters long, and about half a meter deep. It was more than enough for a person to lie down flat.

This was a grave he had prepared for himself. If there came a day when he collapsed to the ground, Tang Yue would crawl into the pit and lie down. Then, he would sever the oxygen and electricity to the Radiant Armor, dying peacefully without anyone knowing.

Tang Yue sat down and surveyed his surroundings. He found the scenery pretty good if he lay down there. Not far to the left was the Eagle, and to the right was Kunlun Station. These three points weren’t too far from each other. It could be imagined that Tang Yue’s corpse would be preserved for an extended period of time due to the low temperatures and aridness. If the EVA suit was opened, it wouldn’t take long for Tang Yue’s corpse to be as dry as a piece of firewood.

As for setting up something like an epitaph, there was no need. After all, no one would read it. From the moment Earth vanished, Tang Yue’s name no longer mattered. He was the only Earthling on this planet, so he no longer needed a name to represent him and separate him from others. He was unique.

Tang Yue got up and returned to Kunlun Station. He left the shovel there as a landmark to prevent himself from not being able to find the grave in the future.

What kind of person would use a shovel as their tombstone?

Perhaps the last man in the world would do that.

Mai Dong had finished scanning the photos by the time Tang Yue returned. The number of satellite photos had surged from 4,000 to 4,500. The search for traces of Tomcat had become part of Mai Dong’s daily routine.

“Good morning, Tang Yue. You woke up early today?” Mai Dong’s eyes left her screen. “Are you done with today’s work?”

“Good morning.” Tang Yue nodded as he paused for a few seconds. “Mai Dong, I might not be able to live long.”

The girl’s hands trembled.

“What… What are you talking about?”

“After Earth vanished, I spent a long period of time in a muddled state. I lived like a walking zombie.”

Tang Yue took off the Radiant Armor and sat down on a chair as he rubbed his hands to regain some warmth.

“I don’t know where am I, or what I’m doing, much less know my purpose in living on this planet… Since the Earth has vanished, with seven billion people gone, what’s the difference in having one more or less person?

“I don’t dare to think of Earth or the people on Earth. I’ve been numbing myself by repeating my daily work, afraid that I’ll mentally break down,” Tang Yue muttered softly. “Can you imagine that sense of hopelessness? Back then, I felt that perhaps a great office was to be placed on my shoulders for me to survive, but later, I realized that I might just be a pile of trash that had been forgotten in some corner of the Universe.”

“Tang Yue… Don’t have such thoughts. As long as we are alive, there will still be hope.”

“There’s not much hope left. My physical condition is terrible.” Tang Yue shook his head and rolled up his sleeves, revealing to Mai Dong his bruises and blood spots on his arm. “I’m bleeding everywhere under my skin. This is a symptom of scurvy. Perhaps in six months, I’ll be debilitated. Once I lose my mobility, it will definitely be an outcome worse than death. If that day comes, I’ll choose to end my life… I’ve already dug my grave.”

Mai Dong widened her eyes as she covered her mouth.

“I’ve chosen a prime location. The site contour corresponds to the four gods, allowing it to amass the essential powers of the world. If my corpse doesn’t rot for millennia, I might even become a huge dumpling.” Tang Yue laughed. “Then, I’ll climb out of the grave and begin dancing on Mars.”

“That’s not funny at all!”

Tang Yue wiped away his smile as he held his palms to his nose tip and let out a deep sigh.

“At times, I lie in bed and look at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. I keep wondering when such days will come to an end. What difference does it make to die one day earlier or one day later? What’s the difference between dying two years later and tomorrow?”

Mai Dong slowly lowered her head. She didn’t know how to answer Tang Yue. Her situation was identical to Tang Yue’s. To a young lady like her, when would such days come to an end?

“But I’m not dead yet. If I’m dead, what will happen to you? What about that darn cat?” Tang Yue smiled. “How can I just abandon both of you?”

Mai Dong nodded while biting her lip.

“That’s why I need to save myself.” Tang Yue looked up and clenched his teeth. “Regardless if Tomcat returns or not and regardless of whether the temperature control can be fixed or not, I need to save myself!”

He decided not to wait for Tomcat. Its return was still an unknown.

He needed to divert all his remaining efforts into saving himself!

The greatest threat facing him was scurvy, and the only way to treat scurvy was Vitamin C. It was common on Earth, and nearly every vegetable and fruit was rich in Vitamin C. However, it was extremely difficult to obtain on Mars, forcing one to rely on their supplies.

Resupplies had long come to an end. The multivitamins in Kunlun Station had already been finished, and at present, the most viable and sustainable source of Vitamin C was from vegetables and fruits.

Mai Dong had left plenty of tomato seeds in Kunlun Station. If Tang Yue was able to succeed in planting them and wait until they germinated and bore fruit, his predicament of a lack of Vitamin C would be resolved, treating his scurvy as well. However, the damaged temperature control was causing Kunlun Station’s temperatures to decrease drastically. This was the hardest obstacle in planting tomatoes.

“Tang Yue, do you have any solutions to maintain the temperatures?” Mai Dong asked.

“No.” Tang Yue shook his head. “But it’s not something I can bother about. I’ll just take it as it comes, and hope to make a Hail Mary effort… The lowest temperature needed is 20°C, right?”

Mai Dong nodded. “Tomatoes are plants that like warm temperatures. The best conditions are temperatures between 20 to 25°C. However, it’s fine if it’s a little lower. It will just take longer to grow and bear fruit.”

“I’ll try my best to give it a temperature of 20°C.” Tang Yue took a deep breath and swept his gaze across everything in Kunlun Station. He was going to use whatever he could. He no longer cared if he wasted resources. At worst, he would drink less water and use less electricity in the future.

“But Tang Yue, the tomatoes will need at least two months to bear fruit from the time they are planted.” Mai Dong reminded him. “What are you going to do during this two-month interim? If you don’t replenish your body with Vitamin C, your physical condition will only worsen.”

“That’s right. The tomatoes need time to grow, so I need to find a temporary source of vitamins.”

“A temporary source of vitamins?”

Tang Yue nodded. He took out a packet of compressed biscuits from the cabinet and shook it at the camera. “It’s this.”