Sol Three Hundred and Twenty-One, Lonely Spring

The sun rose as Tang Yue dragged his cart through the Battery Farm.

There was a saying that those who survive a catastrophe were bound to have good fortune later on, but Tang Yue didn't see any fortune. Of course, Tomcat would say that stirring feces from nine in the morning to nine at night, six days a week was a fortune.

In response, Tang Yue mused if he should thank the comet for giving him a chance to continue stirring feces.

Tomcat raised its dewclaw.

Tang Yue arranged the solar panels in the desert and carefully flicked away the sand on them. He looked up at the sky, but Mars didn't have any concept of weather since it lacked a complex water cycle. With 687 sols a year, it was daytime most of the time. Occasionally, there would be sandstorms and tiny amounts of dust would be pulled into the atmosphere, making the sky turn dusty. Sometimes it looked like orange smog.