Sorry, Babushka

Nǎinai has moved in. Mandarin Chinese is the eighth language. • 150 levels of Mainland Mandarin as it is actually said now — thirty-six families of words, from the ones every schoolchild knows to the ones the internet invented, each written in characters with its pinyin and tones underneath. • Her kitchen is on the fifth floor, two floors above Auntie Zhang. She dances in the square at seven, forwards you health articles, wants to know whether you are wearing your long johns and has found someone for you to meet. Six times on the path she asks you something plain, and you answer her to her face. • She speaks English the way she really would — in the phone's own Chinese voice — and her Chinese words in Chinese. Settings › Her accent switches her English to plain English. • The microphone listens in Mandarin, and it knows how many Chinese words sound alike. • Find a word. The magnifying glass at the bottom of the path opens a search: type a word in English, in her alphabet or the way it sounds, and every place she teaches it is marked — one tap steps to the next one, and the path goes there. Her tests are searched too, so a word that is not a level of its own is still findable. • When you share your streak it now says what she actually taught you that day — the word itself, how to say it and what it means, not a polite summary of it. • The age setting holds everywhere it should: on an under-18 profile her path and her tests now stay inside the limit, as her dictionary always has. • The other seven grandmothers are exactly where you left them.