Free Web NovelChapter 8: The Little Helper
Lucas carried Cici back into the place he’d just rented.
The moment he opened the door, it smelled faintly of fresh paint and new flooring. The living room was bright. Sunlight came through the windows and lay across the floor, showing a thin layer of dust. No one had ever lived here. There wasn’t much furniture, and everything looked clean and new, but because it had been sitting empty for so long, it still didn’t feel like a home.
Cici was still in Lucas’s arms. As soon as they stepped inside, she looked around, her little face full of confusion.
"Daddy, why are we here again?"
She tipped her face up to him and asked very seriously, "Aren’t we moving tomorrow?"
Lucas smiled, set her down, then crouched so they were eye to eye.
"No one’s lived here yet, Cici. Look—doesn’t it feel a little dusty?"
Cici looked down at the floor, then at the windowsill. Her tiny brows scrunched together, as if she was trying to decide how serious "a little dusty" was.
Lucas reached over and wiped along the edge of the window. Sure enough, a gray streak came away on his fingertip.
"I need to clean the place first," he said. "That way, tomorrow we can just move our stuff in."
Cici nodded right away.
"Daddy, I’ll help you."
Lucas looked at her very serious little face, and his mood lifted.
"Alright," he said with a grin. "With Cici helping me, we’ll definitely finish faster."
So they got to it.
Lucas rolled up his sleeves, opened the windows to air the place out, then pulled out the cleaning supplies he’d grabbed on the way over. The empty apartment slowly filled with small sounds—the bucket clunking down by the bathroom door, the mop dragging over the floor, a rag wiping across the windowsill and the tops of the cabinets.
After a while, the apartment started to look less like an empty unit and more like somewhere people could actually live.
Cici "helped" too. freewebnσvel.cøm
She was only two years and two months old—tiny, serious, and stubborn in the way only a toddler could be. She held a small cloth with both hands and rubbed it back and forth over a cabinet door that was already clean. She moved slowly, and it didn’t really clean anything. Sometimes she folded the cloth over itself by accident and ended up wiping her own hands instead.
But with her there, the apartment didn’t feel empty anymore.
"Daddy, I’m wiping here."
"Okay. Cici’s amazing."
"Daddy, it’s dirty here too."
"Then I’ll leave that spot to you, Cici."
Lucas answered her while he mopped. Her little voice echoed through the bare rooms. Cleaning should’ve been the most boring chore in the world, but with her toddling around beside him, it somehow became fun.
An hour later, the system’s voice sounded inside Lucas’s head.
[Host, your Constitution has increased by 1 point.]
[Today’s Constitution increase has reached the daily limit of 3 points.]
Lucas paused in the center of the living room, both hands resting on the mop. Slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted.
Carrying Cici, plus all this cleaning—he’d hit today’s cap without even trying.
If he could keep this up every day, getting three Constitution points daily shouldn’t be hard.
He lowered his gaze and flexed his fingers. He didn’t suddenly feel like a different person, but he did feel lighter than he had that morning. He’d spent an hour cleaning; in the past, his back would’ve been aching by now. Instead, he was only breathing a little harder, and his arms still had strength left.
A slow change like that felt safer than some sudden burst of power.
"Cici, we’re done."
Lucas gave the floor one last pass, checked the living room and bedroom, and only then set the mop aside.
"We got it pretty clean."
Cici held her little rag and turned in a slow circle in the living room, eyes wide.
"Daddy, you’re so good."
Then she added, even happier, "I wish tomorrow would hurry up so we can move into our new home!"
She really did like it here.
Seeing how happy she was, Lucas looked around the apartment too.
Now that it was cleaned up, the place looked even better. The living room felt wide open, the light didn’t glare, and through the windows, he could see the landscaped courtyard inside The Grove Apartments. The kitchen and bathroom were both practically new, and the bedroom was more than enough for him and Cici. For the life Lucas was trying to build, every corner of this place was better for raising a kid than their old rental.
He really was satisfied.
Maybe that was why the other thought came back heavier than before.
He had to figure out how to make real money—and buy this place.
Otherwise, if the landlord decided to sell, they’d be forced to move again. Cici would probably cry her eyes out.
The unit was listed for around $1.5 million.
And that was before property taxes, monthly building fees, and every other expense New York loved dumping on people.
If you’d told the old Lucas he was seriously considering buying a one-and-a-half-million-dollar apartment, he would’ve laughed and called himself insane. But right now, watching the little girl bounce twice in the living room, he couldn’t laugh at all.
If buying this place meant Cici never had to lose another home...
Then he had to at least try.
"Cici, let’s go."
Lucas packed up the cleaning supplies and scooped Cici into his arms.
"I’ll take you home and make you something good."
"Okay!" Cici wrapped her arms around his neck right away. "I want meat!"
"Got it, you little meat monster."
Cici giggled so hard she squirmed in his arms.
On the way back, Lucas passed a small sidewalk book stall. It was a simple setup—tables and crates stacked with used books and children’s picture books. Some of the corners were worn pale from handling, but the covers were still pretty clean. Lucas stopped, flipped through a few, and picked out several storybooks that looked about right for Cici’s age.
Cici hugged them to her chest like treasure. freēwebnovel.com
When they got home, she had barely made it through the door before she lifted the books up, eyes bright with anticipation.
"Daddy, can you read me a story first? Please?"
"Of course," Lucas said. "But let me get dinner started first."
He set Cici on the couch, went into the kitchen, brought a pot of water to a boil, and dropped in the pasta. The small kitchen filled with the sound of running water and the hiss of the burner. After checking the heat and setting a timer, Lucas carried Cici out to their tiny balcony.
The rental technically had one—though calling it a balcony was being generous.
It was so narrow it could barely fit a small chair and a couple storage boxes. Lucas almost never came out here before. Now, with Cici in his arms, he had to pull his legs in just to sit comfortably. Traffic noise floated up from the street below. The evening wind slipped through the gaps between buildings, carrying the smell of hot pavement, exhaust, and old brick.
Cici couldn’t stop smiling.
She sat on Lucas’s lap, opened the storybook, and pointed at the cover with one chubby finger.
Lucas glanced down at it, then began to read.
"Cici, this story is called The Ugly Duckling—"
He kept his voice soft and his pace slower than usual. Cici leaned into him, listening with her whole little body. Every once in a while, she tilted her head up at him, like she needed to make sure every word was something Daddy was telling her—and only her.
Five minutes passed.
Then the system’s voice chimed in Lucas’s mind.
[Host, your story-reading experience and storytelling ability have begun to improve.]
[These skills are easier to improve than Constitution. After ten total hours of storytelling, both will reach an advanced level.]
