"CP 1765, September 10. 61 days have passed since landing. Local time: AD 2016, October 17."

  "How ironic — this paper-writing exercise truly follows me everywhere."

  "I had to write papers back in Lierus, I had to write papers while piloting the spacecraft away from Lierus, and I still have to write papers after crash-landing on this alien planet. I suppose being an academic means you're forever cursed with this burden. Not only will I be writing about all the discoveries made during the exploration, I also have to translate them slowly into alien languages. It's even more troublesome than the reports I used to send back to the Central Research Institute from the science vessel. I honestly don't even know whether to feel regret or relief."

  "But at least one thing has changed: these papers aren't written for the nation anymore, but for my own benefit. It sounds strange to say it like that, but who cares here? I don't care, and no one knows I don't care..."

  "Besides, today's weather looks like the prelude to a storm — at least it's so on Lierus. The brightness has dropped so sharply that sunglasses are useless; humidity is rising rapidly, and strong winds have picked up. It might be inconvenient to go out tonight."

  ***

  He glances at the screen displaying the untitled paper he has just finished drafting. Essentially, it presents speculations about the surface environments of planets in several neighbouring star systems. This purely theoretical paper is designed to appear as revolutionary as possible. Admittedly, Xi P lacks concrete data on those planets. Yet during the interstellar exploration project, scientists gained entirely new insights into how different stars influence planetary surface environments. This process yielded nearly a dozen novel principles, vastly enriched their understanding of exoplanetary systems. These new principles merely require slight packaging — presented as deductions from existing theories rather than direct discoveries.

  The value of these principles far surpasses the conclusions presented in the paper itself. However, they cannot be revealed directly. They must be presented vaguely, imprecisely, and with some gaps; otherwise, others would question how Min had arrived at them...

  Sticking his head out the window, he closes his eyes and quietly savours the gale's caress. Though this will inevitably tangle his fur, the sheer exhilaration easily outweighs this minor inconvenience. With such low brightness, he needn't worry about being spotted.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  'Wait, why did the wind stop — '

  With a sudden , Xi P is instantly drenched in rainwater. He truly hadn't at all anticipated the storm arriving so precisely.

  After drying his head and combing his fur, he decides he can't be bothered to watch the storm anymore, maybe head back and refine that paper a little further. The weather is simply too distracting for research. At least while he's writing, he won't have to worry about shaking hands ruining anything.

  There is no helping it. This is just an ordinary house, with soundproofing and electrical shielding practically nonexistent.

  'Come to think of it, is 'don't use electrical appliances during thunderstorms' really that exaggerated? Could it be that their power poles get struck that often, or that this house's lightning rod is connected to the power lines? Either scenario seems absurd, unless lightning strikes are exceptionally frequent here — but that contradicts basic planetary environment assumptions.'

  'Ra, I'm such a humorist.'

  'I should refine the general planetary estimates... But the specific numbers should remain vague. Hmm, what's the typical margin of error for astronomy papers?... That's safer. After all, someone like Ye Min... well, Ye Min, I don't mean to belittle you, but this kind of thing really needs to be done gradually...'

  'And there's another problem: I know almost nothing about suitable papers to cite here. Their academic publication process must require citations, too. One can't just write a paper without citing anything. This is not something I can solve myself, I'll have to wait for Ye Min...'

  ***

  'How did I end up as a plagiarist?'

  As he edits, an odd sensation slowly creeps over him. Xi P feels increasingly as though he is committing plagiarism, even though the source material doesn't exist on this planet. Yet it is precisely this unease that makes him stop. He couldn't help but sigh. This must be the infamous downside of academic integrity.

  He decides to stop editing altogether. Leaning on the desk, he waits quietly. Min should be heading home from work soon. If he tells him about the surprise he has prepared, Min will be utterly shocked. Anyone with a shred of common sense knows that writing such a lengthy paper in a single afternoon is utterly preposterous. His expression then will be priceless...

  ***

  Min's reaction unfolds exactly as Xi P anticipated: his face contorts with utter disbelief. When the truth is confirmed, his facial muscles twist even more violently, as though they are malleable clay. The sight makes Xi P feel slightly uneasy.

  But soon, Min remembers what he was originally supposed to say. With a sly grin, he remarks: "Xi P, I stopped by the pet market earlier. There's this adorable pet I'd like to adopt. What do you think?"

  Xi P shoots Min a suspicious glance, utterly baffled by this sudden change of subject. Pet? If Xi P understood correctly, that word means exactly what it says, "Now that's interesting — an alien pet... But if he wants to keep it, why does he need my permission? It's his home, after all?"

  Regardless, Xi P nods.

  Seeing this, Min cannot suppress his laughter, which rages on for over ten seconds, leaving Xi P utterly baffled. When he finally manages to stop, he says to Xi P: "Perfect! It's a... silver fox."