The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 102

In ancient times, people used coarse cloth and hemp as materials to make fishing nets through bundling and rolling methods.

They had coarse cloth but lacked hemp, leaving them short of materials.

Chang'an and Old Gu Six, accompanied by the white wolf couple, ventured into the mountains. The silver wolf had gone into the hills earlier to search for its mate and cubs but hadn’t returned yet.

After wandering around and hunting quite a few animals, they still couldn’t find any hemp.

They arrived at the mountain hollow where Wan Ke and the villagers from the fishing settlement had once lived. The neatly arranged earthen-walled houses formed a small village.

A narrow mountain stream split the hollow in two, its banks showing signs of having been widened.

The once-cultivated fields were now overgrown with weeds—the village had long been abandoned.

"This place has a nice environment. Why is no one living here?"

"Maybe something happened?" Old Gu Six recalled what Wan Ke had told him when he came looking for help. This must have been where the fishing villagers had settled.

Too bad that fool Wan Ke ruined it.

Since they found no hemp here either, they had no choice but to move on.

With the white and gray wolves by their side, they could roam freely without worrying about getting lost.

Old Gu Six even brought a compass, wanting to test whether they could find their way back without getting disoriented.

Finally, after half a month in the mountains, they found hemp plants.

"They look so ordinary—why were they so hard to find? Shouldn’t they be everywhere?"

Old Gu Six muttered, "What’s everywhere are weeds. Useful things are usually rare."

That made a lot of sense.

The father-daughter pair spent the entire morning harvesting the hemp plants, storing them all in their spatial storage to process later.

They also dug up some roots to take back and plant, ensuring they wouldn’t have to search the mountains again in the future.

On the way back, Old Gu Six didn’t rely on the white wolf to guide them. Instead, he confidently held the compass, looking self-assured.

And then… well, things didn’t go as planned.

"Kid, which way is home?"

Chang'an looked up at the sky—where exactly had they wandered off to?

"Maybe you should fly up a tree and check?"

Old Gu Six actually took her seriously, leaping onto the tallest tree. But he saw nothing—they had gone too far, and even the sea was blocked by the mountains.

So where were they now? Which direction should they go?

See? They still had to rely on the wolves.

The navigation wolves took the lead, strutting ahead with an air of pride.

With skills like this, how did they even plan to sail the seas? Two absolute fools.

Along the way, they encountered a group of hunters, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

They seemed to have had a good haul, including two sizable wild boars.

The two groups faced off—Chang'an’s side had wolves, while the other had numbers. Neither side backed down.

The white and gray wolves stepped forward, baring their fangs and growling to force the hunters to make way.

The men, seeing the wolves obeying Chang'an and Old Gu Six, assumed they were tamed.

The wolves were strong and fierce—even if domesticated, their wild instincts remained. If they could capture them and present them to the city lord, they’d surely receive a handsome reward.

Too bad they already had owners.

The hunters politely nodded at Old Gu Six and stepped aside.

The father-daughter pair didn’t hesitate, walking past them calmly.

Chang'an had initially intended to yield, but she didn’t expect the wolves to outright threaten the others.

With ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‍just two people and two wolves, they passed by quickly.

The hunters, too, carried their spoils and left cheerfully.

The summer mountains seemed unusually lively. Not long after, they met an elderly man in Taoist robes, gathering herbs with a basket on his back.

The old man glanced at the sky, wiping sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

"It’s going to rain," he muttered to himself. "Better head down now and come back tomorrow."

Chang'an and Old Gu Six also looked up skeptically—there were only a few clouds. It didn’t seem that bad.

The old man chuckled. "Don’t doubt me. It’ll rain within the time it takes an incense stick to burn. Hurry back—getting soaked can lead to illness."

Old Gu Six clasped his hands in respect. "Thank you, Master Taoist."

The old man waved him off without another word, swiftly descending the mountain with his half-filled basket, moving as if walking on flat ground.

After watching his figure disappear, the father-daughter pair continued at their usual leisurely pace.

They wouldn’t make it back before the rain, so they found an open spot to set up a shelter.

Summer storms brought thunder—they couldn’t take cover under trees.

Luckily, the area they were passing through wasn’t densely forested. They cleared a few trees to widen the space.

Chang'an pulled out an oilcloth from her spatial storage, using the felled logs as support beams. Together, they built a sturdy little shelter.

Just as they finished, thunder rumbled, and heavy raindrops began to fall.

"That old Taoist really knows his stuff," Old Gu Six mused, stroking his chin.

Chang'an replied absentmindedly, "So, you want to become his disciple?"

A living weather forecast? Not a bad idea.

"Nah, not interested," he dismissed without hesitation.

The rain grew heavier, trapping them for a while.

Chang'an took out firewood, beef, and lamb from her storage but skipped the vegetables and drinks.

She didn’t bring out the grill either—the mountains were too crowded today, and they might run into more people.

She handed Old Gu Six a full set of barbecue spices, and without a word, he took over as the grill master.

As for the wolves, Chang'an didn’t plan to feed them roasted meat. If they got used to it, they’d demand it every day—who’d want to be a full-time wolf chef?

She tossed them four pheasants and two rabbits, letting them eat in the corner.

Halfway through their meal, six people appeared at the entrance of their shelter.

Probably more hunters. Luckily, their shelter was small—just enough for two people and two wolves. There was no room for anyone else.

The newcomers realized this too and awkwardly smiled. "Sorry to disturb you."

They left, unsure how long the rain would last. They gathered the discarded branches Old Gu Six had chopped and cut more themselves.

Using leafy branches, they built a crude shelter, then braved the rain to collect less-damp firewood to dry their clothes by a fire.

The rain lasted until the next morning. Since they hadn’t taken out much, and with outsiders nearby, they couldn’t store things away openly. Old Gu Six folded the oilcloth and stuffed it into his backpack.

The rain-soaked forest was hard to traverse—their clothes were soon drenched.

The other group, seeing the rain stop, didn’t head back. Instead, they kept searching the mountains. It was unclear what they were after.

Maybe their luck was bad—they hadn’t caught any game. Perhaps they just wanted to bring something back.

After two more days in the mountains, once they had a rough idea of their home’s direction, Old Gu Six started using the compass again.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

Just when they thought they were a day away from home, his erratic navigation added another two days to their journey.

Perhaps because so many people lived in these mountains, the summer woods were unusually lively this year.

For the past two days, they kept running into small groups of people heading into the mountains, sometimes even spotting larger parties of ten or twenty.

Old Gu Six, however, cast an inscrutable glance at the scattered figures. He had already figured out just how many people lived in these hills.

If not for scouting out who exactly resided in these mountains, why would he bother selling sweet potato vines? It wasn’t like he needed the meager earnings.

None of the people they’d encountered these days were local villagers—they were all outsiders.

Could it be that this mountain range was particularly rich in wild game?