A Guide to Farming in a Mobile City -
Chapter 61: Love on the Mobile City
A-Chen was awakened by the steam pipeline overhead.
The copper ventilation duct buzzed and trembled, most likely transporting scalding steam as usual.
This was not for daily water supply—Tomorrow did not yet have such luxurious living conditions.
When the steam engines of the Mobile City operated, they produced a large amount of high-pressure steam, which was then converted into mechanical energy through a series of operations, powering the steel treads and axles beneath the city, enabling the entire city to move slowly and steadily.
The Helmsman would use the voice tubes to inform the ordinary residents working in the lower Power District, instructing them to control the opening and closing of the steam valves to regulate output power.
These steam pipes extended throughout the entire Mobile City from top to bottom, like the blood vessels and veins of this steel behemoth.
In winter, they could temporarily serve as a heating system.
"It's time for work..." A-Chen muttered as he got up.
He climbed off the wooden bed and casually threw on the clothes hanging by the headboard.
He lived in the middle level of Tomorrow, and his room was only nine square meters, furnished with just a wooden bed, a small table, and a cabinet.Fortunately, his room had a small window.
During rest, A-Chen often liked to open this window, resting his arms on the ledge and gazing out at the moving scenery in the distance.
Sometimes when he pushed the window open, a morning breeze mixed with coal ash and engine oil would blow in.
This was mainly because a large chimney happened to be nearby.
In truth, A-Chen should have had better living conditions.
He was one of the former slaves who had joined Li Ye’s uprising.
With that kind of contribution, logically, he should have enjoyed better treatment—moving into the upper level with Old Zhou, Tang Fang, and the others, receiving more food and fresh water every day.
But A-Chen stubbornly refused his companions' goodwill and moved into the middle level on his own.
The reason was simple—he was embarrassed to accept such treatment.
Li Ye, as the Lord, exhausted himself daily for the development of the city.
Old Zhou, Tang Fang, A-Bai, and the others dutifully fulfilled their roles.
The rest of the companions served as combat personnel, standing on the frontline of external battles.
And he himself was just an ordinary man with limited abilities—unable to become a professional like a Helmsman or Mechanic, nor did he have the courage to become a combatant.
Even during the uprising aboard Mole, he lacked the courage to charge to the front.
The wishes of an ordinary person were simple: to have food and drink every day, a place to live, and to survive with some semblance of dignity.
A-Chen stepped out of his room and headed down the gangway toward the lower district where he worked.
As he left, he glanced at the room across from his own—its occupant had already gone out.
On the way, A-Chen passed by the warehouse and collected his dinner.
Two steaming hot steamed buns, a portion of cooked Blueheart Potatoes, and a cup of fresh water.
Originally, there was no breakfast provision on Tomorrow, but ever since the Morning Wheat had ripened, the city had begun supplying flour-based food.
Steamed buns, noodles, bread, and occasionally stuffed buns.
As the city had entered a state of full-scale war preparation, Tomorrow was cloaked in a tense and alert atmosphere.
Combatants were gradually taking positions on various armor plates. The vehicle convoy was already deployed outside.
Many residents were closely following Mechanic Lin Wu, conducting the final round of inspections and troubleshooting.
In this solemn mood of impending battle and collective readiness, A-Chen descended the gangway, but his thoughts began to drift.
He was thinking about his neighbor.
She was an ordinary girl around his age, with bright eyes.
She came from the fallen Roland Fortress.
Back then, she had boarded the armor plates with everyone under the lead of the fortress lord’s daughter, Lin Xia.
At that moment, she appeared especially panicked.
The hot wind from the explosions and fire in the fortress lashed her face, her bangs disheveled and clinging to her forehead.
The cheap earrings near her earlobes quivered slightly in the roar of Tomorrow.
Though her appearance was plain, she had a pitiful charm.
At the time, A-Chen had noticed her, but didn’t pay her much attention.
He had only worked with Li Ye and the others to help settle new members, moving furniture in the Production Workshop, distributing food and fresh water.
Just like all ordinary people, he did what he could within his capabilities.
It wasn’t until he dragged his exhausted body back to his room that he found the once-empty room across the hall was now occupied—by that girl.
She smoothed her disheveled bangs, biting on a hair tie as she tied her hair into a ponytail, seriously tidying up her room.
She arranged the bed, swept the floor, and placed her belongings in the small cabinet.
These ordinary actions unexpectedly stirred something in A-Chen’s heart.
...
With his thoughts adrift, A-Chen arrived at the lower Engine District via the gangway and began his work.
On Tomorrow, he served as a boiler operator, and his daily task was to regularly shovel coal into the boiler.
The lighting in the boiler room was dim, the iron shovel made a rasping sound as it scraped the coal heap, steam hissed overhead through the pipes, and white mist occasionally leaked from the joints.
Every so often, A-Chen would tap the pressure gauge with a wrench, the crisp clang of metal against metal sounded especially sharp in the hot and stuffy cabin.
He stared closely at the dial needle, and only when it was normal did he relax his furrowed brow.
He didn’t mind the hardship of this job—on the contrary, it gave him peace of mind.
Because being needed was the main way ordinary people resisted a mundane life.
Putting away the shovel, A-Chen began thinking about the moments he had shared with the girl.
She had a job too—on the Watchtower, serving as a Lookout with Lin Xia.
One lived amidst the sighing of steam pipes, the other among the wind atop the Watchtower.
Though they were neighbors, their interactions were scarce.
Their true meeting happened during a malfunction.
Once, during a routine pressure boost on Tomorrow, a pressure valve broke somewhere. Scalding steam rushed up the tower and burned the girl's hand as she gripped the railing.
A-Chen hurriedly rushed up to the Watchtower, wanting to apologize but not knowing how to begin.
When he nervously looked up, he saw the girl holding her hand and tilting her head to look at him.
"Eh? Aren’t you my neighbor?"
From then on, the two gradually started to interact.
Whenever A-Chen walked down the gangway to the lower district in the evening, the searchlight on the Watchtower would always sweep across the dim road ahead just at the right moment.
And in the mornings, he would sometimes bring breakfast to the Watchtower to share with her. When she woke up late, he would use steam leaking from the pipe joints to warm the food.
In their free time, the two would lightly tap on the voice tube to communicate.
One tap meant good morning.
One short and one long meant see you tonight.
Three short and one long meant let’s have lunch together.
His thoughts grew more and more, gradually filling his mind.
"So nice," A-Chen silently thought.
He quickly realized something and looked up at a section of the ventilation pipe wall.
It was already covered in tally marks he had carved with a screwdriver.
At that moment, his thoughts turned like jammed gears—full of contradiction.
"If everything ends tomorrow, should I let her know how I feel?"
But then what?
A voice echoed inside him.
His memory flashed back to a scene after a past battle, when he had been moving corpses off the armor plates.
One of the deceased wore a crude ring on their hand. He didn’t know to which girl this pain and regret belonged.
A-Chen unconsciously reached into his pocket and felt the small box made from a repurposed shell casing. Inside was a piece of paper he had revised over and over.
Noise came from outside. He turned his head and saw that everyone was still busily preparing for the upcoming battle.
He realized something and looked down in shame.
Right now, everyone was giving their all for tomorrow, while he was tossing and turning over such a trivial matter.
When the familiar tapping came through the voice tube, A-Chen hesitated for a long time before finally tapping out two long and two short sounds.
It meant: see you tomorrow.
But the response was two long taps.
A-Chen froze.
That meant rejection.
Just as he was at a loss, the sound echoed again, closer this time.
The young man realized something, and his heart began to pound uncontrollably.
He instinctively turned and saw the girl standing at the boiler room door, smiling at him.
...
"Tch, I was wondering why this kid was so dead set against moving to the upper level. Turns out he had someone on his mind," Old Zhou teased as he looked at the pair embracing at the boiler room entrance.
Li Ye smiled and shook his head, his brows gradually relaxing.
This small interlude on the eve of a great battle surprised him—but also felt incredibly beautiful.
In the harsh, post-apocalyptic Wasteland, the stubborn affection of ordinary people was like wild grass dancing in the wind.
As fragile as a streetlamp not yet dimmed in the morning mist.
Yet as resilient as...
The dawn that could illuminate the entire world.
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