wavenovel Chapter 41 High-Level Dirty Language
Chapter 41 High-Level Dirty Language
Without batting an eye, Zeke casually made up a story: "Of course I said that. I saw it on a TV program commemorating Elvis, absolutely right."
Judy closed her eyes with some skepticism, and when she spoke again, her voice was noticeably lower and had a lazy, grainy quality.
She opened her eyes, looking at Zeke with some surprise: "My God, this is completely different! The tension is gone. I thought I had to practice more scales, but you've made me imagine a dance floor... This doesn't sound like something taught in academia at all."
Zik shrugged, strummed a chord haphazardly, and continued to play the master: "I've also heard Aretha Franklin say that she never thought about technique when she sang, nor did she deliberately pursue perfect pitch. She said she was a storyteller. You're the same; you're an actor, so you should know better than me how to put emotion into your voice, instead of confining your voice to a cage of rules."
He actually saw this in the magazine "Record World" and used it to fool Judy.
Judy nodded vigorously, her eyes sparkling. "I understand. I was too focused on pronunciation and pitch before, and I lost the soul of the song. Thank you, Zeke. This was more helpful than my private vocal lessons last week."
Zeke pointed to his head and said half-jokingly, "Don't forget I'm from Casablanca. We don't sell musical notes, we sell magic that makes you want to dance."
Judy couldn't help but smile, picked up the basketball from the corner, and threw it at him.
"Hey buddy, when does our French class start?"
Zik caught the basketball steadily, his fingertips tracing its rough surface, a secret joy in his heart.
I finally got a free private French tutor! I'll never have to struggle with this again.
"Anytime, anywhere. My parents are in New York, so I have a lot of free time. I could start today without any problem."
"Emmm...maybe not today." Judy's eyes darted around, and she lightly tapped the piano keys with her knuckles, producing a crisp sound.
After a moment, she said in a serious tone, "Learning a language requires a gradual approach. I think you should first learn how to swear in French."
Insulting? That's actually a useful skill. If you don't get along with some wealthy or celebrity offspring classmates, physical violence is definitely out of the question, and you can't afford to offend them for the time being, so being able to vent your anger verbally is not bad.
Zik twirled the basketball between his fingers and agreed, "Sure, teach me the most satisfying one. Next time that Jason Robazs' son makes those sarcastic remarks, I'll use this to shut him down."
"Okay, let me teach you the most useful phrase first, Mon petit chou. Come on, repeat after me, Mon-petit-chou, make sure you distinguish the syllables."
"Mango...piqie...chou".
Zik repeated it with difficulty. The pronunciation was quite difficult for him, who only knew "boom-pig," especially the uvular trill, which made him feel like he was about to cough up phlegm from his throat.
As soon as he finished speaking, he couldn't help but frown.
Judy couldn't help but laugh out loud, and quickly waved her hand to correct her: "No, no, pay attention to the pronunciation of 'petit,' the tip of your tongue should lightly touch the upper gum, and the 'chou' sound, don't use too much force, just lightly pass through it, try again."
Following Judy's pronunciation, Zeke carefully repeated, "Mang...peite...chou."
This time, I could barely make out a few nuances of French.
"Yes, that's it!" Judy's eyes lit up. "Remember this, this line is extremely powerful. In the future, when you encounter someone who is arrogant, stupid, and clumsy, you can walk up to them, pat them on the shoulder, look them in the eyes, and say 'Mon. Petit. Chou.' It's guaranteed to infuriate them."
"Really?" Zike looked at her suspiciously, feeling that this tomboy was trying hard to suppress her laughter, as if there was something fishy going on.
But he really didn't understand any French, so we could only believe him for the time being.
He frowned, muttered the word a few more times, and asked in confusion, "This word sounds so soft and doesn't sound like an insult at all. What does it mean? Explain it to me so I don't use it in the wrong context and make a fool of myself."
“‘Mon’ is mine, ‘Petit’ is the little one,” Judy cleared her throat, trying to put on a serious face. “As for ‘Chou’… in French slang, it refers to a dimwit, a clumsy idiot. So, put together, ‘Mon petit chou’ means ‘you little idiot,’ or ‘my fool.’”
Hmm, that sounds pretty reasonable. In the context Judy was referring to, saying that to an arrogant celebrity offspring would definitely be incredibly sarcastic.
Judy leaned closer: "How about it? Pretty useful, right? These are some high-level swear words I secretly compiled."
Qi Ke looked at her face as she leaned closer, the faint scent of shampoo lingering around his nose, fresh and pleasant, quite a contrast to her tomboyish appearance.
A sense of absurdity suddenly rose in his mind. One second this girl was saying "Oh, Champs-Élysées~", and the next second she was seriously teaching him how to swear in French.
Although he doesn't understand French, he knows the tricks of pranks, and this is definitely a trap.
He didn't call him out on it, but instead feigned sudden realization, nodded, and looked into Judy's eyes, saying, "I see. Well... Mon petit chou, Judy, thank you for today's lesson."
Judy was visibly startled for a moment, then her cheeks flushed slightly. She quickly looked away and pretended to organize the sheet music.
"You—you'd better remember that word, Zick. Don't use it in front of real French people, or you'll embarrass yourself."
Seeing her flustered appearance, Zik couldn't help but laugh out loud, his tone teasing: "Don't worry, my French teacher."
Hehe, you look like a tomboy, but you're actually just a little girl. You think you can't be controlled?
The lunch break wasn't long, and class was about to start. He tossed the basketball back and muttered to himself as he left the classroom: What does that mean? But it certainly wasn't an insult.
Back in the student-filled corridor, Zeke chuckled to himself, thinking how naive Judy was; her little pranks were nothing compared to Neil Bogart's.
Don't forget that this is a pure French school, and everyone here speaks French. He can easily find someone to verify this.
Zik's gaze swept around the corridor and quickly locked onto a blonde girl with a sweet face and gentle eyes, perfectly fitting the stereotypical image of a blonde good girl in the public eye.
He smiled, stepped forward, and started a conversation.
"Excuse me, I'm a new transfer student. There's a French phrase I don't understand."
The blonde girl was visibly taken aback when the handsome new transfer student struck up a conversation with her. She then covered her mouth, her eyes filled with flattered surprise, and her cheeks instantly flushed red.
Zik didn't beat around the bush and asked her directly what the real meaning of the phrase "Mon petit chou" was.
The girl smiled gently and patiently explained to him that this was a very affectionate term of endearment in French, which translates directly to "My little sweetheart" in English.
Zeke was speechless. Sure enough, Judy had no good intentions and was just deliberately teasing him.
He couldn't even imagine what would happen if he were foolish enough to believe her nonsense, and then, in the future, he got into an argument with someone and, with a straight face, blurted out "My little darling" to them. The scene would be so embarrassing it would be enough to make him cringe.
He'd be instantly humiliated, and people would probably think he was gay, right? Definitely!
The girl was very helpful and even taught him the full usage of the phrase, softly reciting, "Mon petit, mon petit, mon petit chou chou~"
She added shyly in a low voice that her father was a French diplomat and often used this affectionate term to call her and her wife at home; it was a common and tender expression of affection among the French.
Zik felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and couldn't help but think to himself, "Everyone says the French are romantic, but I don't see any romance in them, all I see is frivolity."
He had a sudden inspiration and winked at the girl: "So, if I think a girl is very pretty, how do I compliment her in French? Like... someone like you?"
The blonde girl blushed deeply as he flirted with her, and whispered to him with her head down, "You can say 'Ma bichette,' which means 'my little beauty,' a very affectionate way to address someone."
"Horse nose shit?"
Zik repeated it, and it sounded more like swearing to him!
No, are you trying to prank me too? Do all French learners have such dirty minds?
Just as he was pondering this, suddenly, without warning, a soft and gentle female voice rang in Qi Ke's mind, followed by a light and soothing melody.
The Apocalypse cheat is back again.
Mon trésor, mon mignon
Ma bichette
Mon petit, mon petit, mon petit chou chou
J'aime tout, j'aime tout de toi
Mon petit, mon petit, mon petit chou chou
Ooh, mon petit chou chou
Oui, ma puce, mon monde