Free Web NovelChapter 4: Dinner for Two
Lucas sat down on the couch and settled Cici on his lap.
After a while, he asked, "Cici... what about your grandma and grandpa?"
Evelyn was busy. Lucas could tell she didn’t have much time to spend with Cici. But what about Evelyn’s parents? If they were around, there was no way Cici would have spent most of her time with two nannies.
Cici’s smile faded a little.
She lowered her head and picked at her fingers, her voice turning soft and muffled. freёwebnovel.com
"Grandma is sick," Cici said quietly. "Grandpa took her to another state to see a special doctor."
Her head dipped even lower.
"I miss them."
Lucas regretted asking so abruptly.
"Cici, your grandma and grandpa miss you too. When they have time, they’ll definitely come see you."
"Mm-hm."
Cici nodded obediently.
After a moment, she looked up at him and asked in a small voice, "Daddy... why didn’t you come find me and Mommy?"
Her little hand tightened around Lucas’s sleeve.
That question was even harder to answer than the last one.
He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t tell a little girl that he hadn’t even known she existed. He couldn’t explain the accident from three years ago, or why Evelyn had left, or how the words Don’t look for me on that note had kept him silent all this time.
That rainy night had been an accident for both him and Evelyn.
But what it left behind was far deeper than Lucas had ever imagined.
Evelyn had always felt too beautiful, too distant, too proud. Like a dream that had briefly fallen into his life, only to disappear before he could hold on to it.
It wasn’t as if Lucas had never tried to meet other people after she left.
But every time, he couldn’t help thinking of Evelyn.
In the end, he had stayed alone until now.
He had never imagined that the rainy night he remembered so clearly had left something else behind too.
Not only had he met Evelyn again.
He had a daughter.
"Ah..."
Lucas sighed and gently rubbed Cici’s little head.
Then he put on the warmest smile he could manage and said, "Your mom and dad’s situation is a little complicated. You’re still young, so you might not understand it yet. Go play for a bit, okay? Daddy’s going to make dinner for you."
Cici blinked.
It was the oldest parent trick in the book.
You’ll understand when you’re older.
Eat first.
"Okay."
Cici nodded obediently.
Lucas set her down beside the couch and picked up her little bag. After making sure she was sitting steadily, he got up and walked into the kitchen.
Usually, Lucas could survive on instant noodles or a sandwich.
When he lived alone, he had almost no standards for food. As long as it filled his stomach, it was good enough. Cup noodles, sandwiches, fried eggs—his kitchen was mostly used for boiling water and washing mugs.
But now Cici was here.
He couldn’t feed a little kid like that.
He could wing it when it was just him. He couldn’t wing it with her.
At the very least, she needed hot food, protein, and, if possible, vegetables. Cici didn’t have to like vegetables, but Lucas still had to put them on the plate.
He opened the refrigerator, took one look inside, and made a quick decision.
Chicken.
Eggs.
Carrots.
And a small handful of greens.
Lucas liked spicy food, but Cici definitely couldn’t eat that. So he made two portions: one spicy for himself, and one light and mild for her.
Once the pan was hot, oil began to hiss in the small kitchen.
Lucas poured in the chicken. Steam rose at once, and the smell of meat climbed toward the range hood. He turned the chicken while watching the heat, but in the back of his mind, he was still thinking about what Cici had said.
Five minutes passed.
Then a familiar yet unfamiliar voice echoed in his mind.
Your cooking skill has begun to improve, Host. Every hour spent in the kitchen equals one year of chef experience.
Lucas’s spatula froze in midair.
His eyes slowly brightened as he looked at the chicken in the pan.
One hour in the kitchen equaled one year of chef experience?
If he cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day, that would be about two hours a day. Give it ten days, maybe half a month, and he would practically be a professional. Give it a month, and even a five-star chef might have to call him big brother.
Three months?
He would be a cooking god.
Lucas’s mood shot up.
Even his stir-frying became lighter and quicker.
As the minutes passed, he realized the improvement wasn’t something as simple as an experience bar going up.
Little decisions began to come naturally to him.
When to lower the heat a little.
When to let the chicken brown for a few more seconds.
How to scramble the eggs so they stayed soft and easy for a child to eat.
How to cook the carrots so they tasted a little sweeter.
It wasn’t as if cold instructions had been shoved into his head. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
It was more like his hands were learning on their own, little by little, while he moved.
At first, he had cooked mostly out of habit.
But gradually, his wrist loosened. His timing changed. The order of seasoning became more natural. The smell coming from the pan grew richer than usual.
The chicken came out with a beautiful color on the outside.
The eggs stayed soft instead of turning dry.
When the last plate was finished, Lucas stood at the counter and stared at the food for a while.
Scrambled eggs.
Pan-seared chicken.
Buttered carrots with a few greens on the side.
For a moment, he almost couldn’t believe he had made it himself.
Sure, he had been cooking for two or three years, but what he usually called cooking was really just getting by. That didn’t count as actual skill.
This one meal had taught him more than all the sloppy meals he had thrown together over the past few years.
"It smells so good, Daddy."
Cici’s little voice came from the kitchen doorway.
Lucas turned around and saw her holding the doorframe with both hands. She sniffed, her eyes sparkling as she stared at the food on the counter.
"Are you tired, Daddy?" she asked.
Lucas’s heart softened in an instant.
"Not tired."
He laughed, put the plate down, and walked over to take her small hand.
"Daddy’s going to take you to wash your hands first. We always wash our hands before eating, right?"
"Mhm!"
Cici followed him obediently to the sink.
Lucas turned on the water and adjusted it to a comfortable temperature. Then he placed her small hands under the stream, gently helped her wash them, and dried them with a towel.
After that, he carried her back to the dining table in the living room.
That was when he discovered a very real problem.
He didn’t have a booster seat.
Cici was too short for the chair. The table was almost up to her chest. She stretched her little arms as far as she could, but she still couldn’t quite reach her plate.
The moment Lucas saw that, he moved "find a new place to live" straight to the top of his to-do list.
He had to move soon.
This apartment was too small. Everything was cramped. The living room was only about twelve square meters, and there wasn’t even a real dining room. His dining table was shoved into a corner.
When he lived alone, none of that mattered.
But if he bought a child’s high chair, he would seriously have to think about where the hell he was supposed to put it.
"Cici, sit next to Daddy."
Lucas pulled her chair closer to his.
"Daddy’ll feed you."
"Okay!"
Cici sat up neatly.
Lucas scooped up a spoonful of eggs. He tested it first to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then brought it to Cici’s mouth.
Cici opened her mouth and swallowed it. She chewed carefully, her cheeks puffing out a little.
Then her eyes lit up.
"Daddy," she whispered, leaning closer, "this is way better than Mommy’s cooking."
Lucas laughed.
Cici quickly put a finger to her lips.
"But it’s our little secret, okay? Don’t tell Mommy."
"Deal."
Lucas smiled.
"This is our little secret."
After Lucas filled his own plate and finished eating with Cici, he confirmed one more thing.
Cici really didn’t like vegetables.
Even the carrots he had deliberately cooked soft, she only ate a few bites of. As for the greens, she barely touched them.
Lucas didn’t force her.
She had only just come to him, and he didn’t want their first dinner together to turn into a war zone.
Besides, his cooking would only get better from here.
Once he truly mastered his skills, he refused to believe he still wouldn’t be able to get Cici to eat vegetables.
