Tomcat took a look at the time, packed up the tools, and turned to enter the driving compartment. "That's it for today. We shall continue the rest of the work tomorrow. We need to return to move the solar panels."
Tang Yue looked at the setting sun hanging above the red desert. It reminded him of a poem from the Tang dynasty poet Wang Wei—the solitary smoke over a desert is straight; the setting sun over rivers is round.
"I once had fertile soil placed before me, yet I didn't cherish it," Tang Yue said. "You don't know what you have until it's gone. Nothing else is more painful than this.
"If the heavens will give me a chance to redo things…"
Tomcat languidly cut him off.
"You still wish for Earth's disappearance to repeat?"
