"CP 1765, January 33. 185 days have passed since landing. Local time: AD 2017, February 18."

  "I doubt this is unique to me, but as time passes, I feel a kind of 'loneliness.' To be honest, it's tricky to put into words what it feels like. Unlike loneliness in the traditional sense, talking to Ye Min doesn't really help to alleviate it. Though I suppose its impact is less severe than typical loneliness. The most accurate description might be 'the sensation of a social animal enduring prolonged isolation from its kind'. I'm sure there's a technical term for this, and I know some people are skilled in mitigating it — especially those who have spent extended periods in the untamed jungle studying animal behaviour. Mine is worse though: even the jungle has satellite signals to connect with others... This suggests I subconsciously don't classify humans as my kind..."

  "Okay, consciously I don't either."

  "On another note, I've made new progress on removing the off-flavour from the local food. Though only meaningful for meat paste, the texture is utterly dreadful. Anyway, I've almost got used to the taste, it's not worth sacrificing so much texture just to forcefully remove it... They haven't invented beverages like meat juice. Mixing raw meat paste with water isn't safe, and it tastes awful. So I've pretty much given up on drinking it here."

  "Ironically, they do have fruit juice. But I simply can't stomach it — I'd rather add sugar to plain water and drink that. Or just use eggs instead."

  "The blog and research papers are progressing smoothly, truly thriving. However, the medical spray is still in the sample production phase. Hopefully Mark will have significant progress tomorrow. Some nations here are at war, and I believe the medical spray will prove far more useful here than in Lierus."

  "Honestly, I'm not sure whether to hope for an end to these wars and for humanity to form a unified global government. On the one hand, that would greatly increase my chances of returning home. On the other hand, a divided Earth is a better Earth for Lierus. Truly a dilemma…"

  "The weather has improved. This afternoon's fog finally dissipated, though it reappeared at night. But this is likely a sign that the foggy season is ending."

  ***

  Xi P's estimate is off — it doesn't even take until the next day. Shortly after he finishes the day's journal entry, Mark sends an email confirming that the synthesis succeeded. After several failed attempts and considerable material waste, he finally produced about 7 grams of powdered compound of decent purity. It's just that the photo's background, equipment, powder, and shooting style look suspiciously like drug manufacturing.

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  "...Considering the commotion I overheard during our earlier call, plus his attire and manner of speaking — well, in our culture, we sometimes label such people as 'well-dressed degenerates: outwardly mature and respectable, yet secretly engaged in unpleasant activities. Add the angle of this photo and the white powder, and it's easy to associate it with the illegal production of addictive substances. That's what I was laughing at. Please don't tell Mark I said that." Min is forced to explain to the curious Xi P.

  Over the past two weeks, Mark has finally started to open up to Xi P, even occasionally coming over to chat with him. Yet as Min says, the reason for this change is 70% down to the reconciliation and photos of the alien world, with the remaining 30% attributed to his exceptionally adorable appearance. Though Xi P knows Min likely speaks the truth, he struggles to accept it — especially knowing that "adorable" usually only refers to children or animals.

  Anyway, Mark comes over again the next morning, conversation starting normally enough, chatting about life on Earth and how it compares to their home planet. But as the saying goes, talking politics is human nature. Gradually, the conversation shifts to the political system on Xi P's home planet: "So, you don't have a democratic government over there?"

  Xi P nods: "Voting rights for leaders are held only by the government's high-ranking officials. Or non-government personnel like high-level scientists, like myself. I certainly can't vote now, but the next election will be in... our 36 years. I believe I'll be able to return and give my vote. That's how technocracy works."

  "Wait, so based on what you said earlier, you could actually become a leader?"

  "Theoretically, yes. But the chances basically don't exist. And, I've never been particularly close to those people.”

  Mark is momentarily at a loss for words. From his perspective, this sounds like the tuefue are hugely politically incorrect. However, he doesn't intend to ask what the commoners' views are on this — they are aliens, after all. Their values might be fundamentally different.

  "I find yours are odd too. People constantly throw around words like 'Jesus' and 'God'. You do it too. As a… Ra… materialist, is that the term? As a materialist, why do you speak that way?"

  "It's just a habit of speech. It doesn't mean the speaker truly believes it. You might not know since religion isn't big where you come from, but 'practising religion' and 'truly believing in it' are two different things. Cultural elements with religious undertones are also distinct from religious states. People may spout religious phrases, but deep down, they know gods don't exist. Those who genuinely believe in divine beings probably only live in places like the Vatican — whose former name meant 'the city where religious leaders reside'. Lastly, their faith is their own business, and they don't discriminate against us for not believing. So what's the big deal? Also, I have another question: did you ever have a Middle Ages?"

  Xi P falls silent for a long moment, seemingly processing Mark's lengthy explanation. Finally, he nods.

  "For me, it's hard to imagine a Middle Ages with widespread atheism... Did you ever have knights in heavy armour? Did your heavy cavalry need to pour cold water over their armour periodically?"

  This bizarre image nearly makes Xi P laugh.