Chapter 12: No Red Flowers
Lucas mentally gave the system ten thousand thumbs-ups.
Mastering a foreign language in three hours was honestly absurd. Compared with those brute-force daily check-in systems, maybe the speed didn’t look quite as exaggerated, but that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t just sitting there, waiting for the system to ram rewards into him.
He was keeping Cici company.
He was listening to his daughter teach him in that sweet, babyish little voice of hers, and somewhere along the way, Spanish just worked its way into his head. Honestly, he was enjoying the process.
"Daddy, you’re not paying attention."
Cici’s small voice tugged him back.
She sat across from him with a solemn little face, even tapping the table lightly with one tiny hand.
"Kids who don’t pay attention don’t get little red flower stickers."
Lucas snapped back to attention and immediately straightened up.
"Teacher Cici is right." He raised his hand. "Teacher Cici, I promise I’ll listen carefully. You can keep teaching now."
Cici nodded, satisfied.
"Okay!"
Then she went right back to teaching him.
Evelyn had taken her to Spain for a while before, and she’d also taught her Spanish at home. Cici was young, but she really did know a surprising number of words. When she spoke, she did it with that very proper little manner, like a tiny teacher taking her job way too seriously.
Lucas repeated after her.
Some parts of his pronunciation still came out a little mushy. Cici couldn’t hear the difference, but he could feel the change himself. Words, short phrases, grammar habits—they began settling into his mind. Not in a messy jumble, but slowly lining themselves up with Cici’s voice.
After half an hour, he’d already gotten more out of it than he had from years of studying foreign languages before.
Lunch was about due too.
Lucas raised his hand.
"Teacher Cici, can we study more this afternoon? It’s almost noon. I need to make lunch for Teacher Cici."
Cici covered her little mouth and giggled.
"Daddy, class is over, so you can’t call me Teacher Cici anymore."
She patted her small chest.
"I’m your baby."
Lucas rubbed the top of her little head.
"Right. You’re my baby."
Cici brightened right up and hugged her drawing things as she sat back down.
"Then Daddy’s going to make lunch for his little baby. You draw by yourself for a bit, and you can teach Daddy again this afternoon."
"Okay."
Lucas went into the kitchen.
The pot, cutting board, and ingredients were quickly laid out. Chicken sliced, vegetables washed, water heating on the stove. Steam began to rise in the kitchen, and the moment the oil started sizzling, the smell curled up along the edge of the pan.
Five minutes later, he could feel another batch of tiny, practical know-how settle into his mind.
Heat control. Knife work. The order of seasoning.
"System, the first five minutes don’t count?"
Lucas asked in his head.
The system answered quickly.
[Host, only continuous activity lasting more than five minutes will count. Once it counts, the first five minutes are included as well.]
"Got it."
Three minutes of enthusiasm wouldn’t cut it.
But the system wasn’t too harsh either. Five minutes was enough.
Half an hour later, lunch was ready.
The moment Cici smelled it, she came running over, her little footsteps pattering across the floor before she stopped at the kitchen doorway.
"Daddy, it smells so good!"
She stood on tiptoe, trying hard to peek at the counter.
"I’m gonna have a second bowl."
Lucas smiled and picked her up.
"Cici, let’s wash our hands first. Then you sit in your high chair and eat by yourself, okay?"
He looked down at her.
"You’re not a one-year-old baby anymore. You can eat by yourself now, right?"
Cici nodded again and again.
"Right. I’m two."
"Then you’re doing great."
Lucas took her to wash her hands. After her little hands were clean, he carried her back to the high chair and served her food with her baby utensils.
Cici looked at the dishes on the table, her eyes shining.
"Daddy, your food is so pretty."
She leaned closer and sniffed.
"It looks so yummy."
Then she lifted her head and added very seriously, "Daddy, you’re amazing."
Lucas placed a small piece of greens into her bowl.
"Cici, today we’re eating one extra piece of greens."
Cici’s little face immediately fell.
But she still picked it up and stuffed it into her mouth.
After chewing a few times, her expression wasn’t quite so pained anymore.
The greens didn’t seem as awful as yesterday.
Lucas watched her tiny expression and held back his laugh.
Improving his cooking skills really was useful.
A little over two hours later, Cici woke up from her nap and threw herself enthusiastically back into being a little teacher.
Lucas had studied for half an hour in the morning, then another hour in the afternoon. Cici would say a sentence, and he would repeat it after her. Sometimes even she forgot, so she’d wrinkle up her little face and think for ages before squeezing out, bit by bit, the words Evelyn had taught her.
As Lucas listened, before long, he could answer smoothly in Spanish.
The speed was almost unreasonable.
"System, what exactly is your standard for proficiency?"
Lucas asked in his mind.
The system said:
[Host, the standard for proficiency is being able to interpret in real time.]
Lucas nearly choked on that answer.
Some standard.
By that definition, plenty of native Spanish speakers could study their whole lives and still never manage simultaneous interpretation.
No wonder he’d only studied for an hour and a half and already felt pretty impressive.
"Cici, it’s time to get some exercise outside."
Lucas checked the time and said with a smile.
"Didn’t we buy a soccer ball? Daddy will take you out to kick it."
Cici instantly perked up.
"Okay!"
She slid down from the chair.
"Soccer time!"
Lucas got up to grab the soccer ball.
When they lived at Evelyn’s villa, of course the nanny would push Cici outside to play. But that kind of play was mostly getting some sun and taking slow walks. Real outdoor exercise probably didn’t happen much.
Rich kids were treated like glass.
What if she ran and fell? What if she got bumped while kicking a ball? What nanny would dare set that up on her own?
"Cici, Daddy will carry you, and you hold the soccer ball."
Lucas handed the ball over.
Cici hugged it with both little hands and nodded solemnly.
"Mhm."
Soon, Lucas carried Cici downstairs.
The Grove Apartments was a high-end apartment complex, and its central courtyard was one of the big selling points. Several buildings enclosed a clean green space, the lawn neatly trimmed, with an open area in the middle wide enough for children to run around.
For Cici, it was already huge.
