The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 132

What happened in the small town was unknown to Chang'an, and though Old Gu Six was aware of it, it didn’t matter much to him. He had no intention of sharing it as gossip with his daughter either.

The area was mountainous, so after leaving the town, the silver wolf was let loose to serve as their pathfinder.

Lingnan lay to the south, over three thousand li away from Liangzhou County. It seemed they wouldn’t make it back in time for planting season this year—they were already too late.

Indeed, they had already celebrated the New Year in the mountains. Chang'an was now thirteen.

But to her dismay, she realized she had only grown one centimeter. Before the age of ten, her growth had been perfectly normal.

Why did it feel like she’d been given growth-stunting medicine after turning ten? Would she ever get those long legs she dreamed of?

Sitting on the carriage shaft, she glanced at her father’s long legs and decided there was still hope.

What she forgot, however, was the concept of "skipping a generation"—even as an adult, she might never inherit those long legs.

This journey to Lingnan seemed to weigh heavily on Old Gu Six. Unlike their leisurely trip to Liangzhou County, he now appeared restless and preoccupied.

"Dad, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me. Maybe I can help?"

Old Gu Six gazed into the distance, his voice gentle. "What could possibly trouble me? It’s just a long road ahead. The faster we move, the sooner we can finish our business and return."

"Chang'an, remember this—no one will ever care for you the way I do. Don’t believe the sweet words of others, especially not from handsome boys. And don’t trust the ugly ones either."

Chang'an: ???

It suddenly struck her—in ancient times, girls were often betrothed by twelve or thirteen.

In this world, it seemed the coming-of-age ceremony was at fifteen, after which a girl could marry.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine. At fifteen in her past life, she’d still been in middle school. Here, she’d be expected to marry and bear children. The idea was hard to swallow.

Besides, marriage wasn’t for her. Better to forget it altogether.

"Don’t worry, Dad. As long as you don’t mind me becoming an old maid who never marries, I’ll stick around until you kick the bucket."

"Mind? Of course not. But must you always wish for my demise? Can’t you hope for something better?"

What could a man do with a daughter who constantly anticipated his death? It was exhausting.

Chang'an grinned cheekily. "I do wish you a long life—a hundred years, even!"

Then it hit her—given Old Gu Six’s true identity, that might actually sound like a curse. A rather vicious one at that.

But Old Gu Six, assuming Chang'an knew nothing, took her words at face value. For a mortal, living a hundred years was indeed a blessing.

And so, two people on entirely different wavelengths found harmony in misunderstanding.

To save time, they abandoned the backroads and stuck to the main highways.

With the silver wolf and a compass guiding them, getting lost was unlikely—though they nearly veered off toward Dian after forgetting to check their bearings.

Had they not double-checked with a passerby, they might’ve ended up hopelessly off course. What kind of road kept stretching longer the farther they traveled?

They reached Gongzhou County by nightfall and had no choice but to lodge in the city.

Both Liangzhou County and Gongzhou County were part of Prince Qi’s domain, though by now, the entire southwest region had fallen under his control. Judging by the peaceful lives of the locals, Prince Qi seemed competent.

He hadn’t joined the conflict between Chen Su and the Fifth Prince—not for lack of ambition, but because he was the weakest of the three factions. For now, survival meant lying low.

He understood the game: the other two hadn’t bothered with him yet, likely planning to eliminate each other first before turning on him.

Why struggle when he stood no chance? Better to enjoy his days as a wealthy idler.

After narrowly escaping death once, he’d sworn off reckless schemes—especially those involving women. Such dalliances could be fatal.

This time, Chang'an and Old Gu Six booked a room at a large inn. The silver wolf was left outside the city, instructed to wait for them ten li beyond the gates by noon the next day.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍inn wasn’t packed, but business was brisk. Most patrons in the main hall were dressed like wandering warriors—swordsmen and swordswomen.

What was this? A martial arts gathering? Or were they preparing to storm some stronghold?

Wait—no, that stronghold wasn’t around here. Wasn’t this supposed to be the territory of the "Elder Nun Who Wipes Out Her Enemies"? But did such a figure even exist in this world?

Probably not.

Father and daughter didn’t linger in the hall, following the waiter straight to their room. Dinner, however, was taken downstairs—partly to catch up on current affairs.

Though they cared little about who ruled the land, basic information was essential for travelers.

Conversations in the hall were hushed, devoid of drunken rowdiness. The patrons were surprisingly well-mannered.

The pair drew little attention, though a few curious glances flickered their way before quickly shifting elsewhere.

The table behind them was deep in gossip, the speakers growing animated, even gesturing as they spoke.

At first, Chang'an thought they were discussing neighborhood drama. But the more she listened, the more familiar the story sounded.

Exchanging a glance with Old Gu Six, they discreetly pricked up their ears.

One of the men remarked, "I heard the Fifth Prince owes the Divine Physician a favor. Just how big of a favor must it be to demand a lifetime of marriage in return?"

Another replied, "A life-saving grace, perhaps."

"No, no, no. Rumor has it the Fifth Prince’s life was saved by someone else entirely."

"If not a life-saving grace, then what else could it be? Don’t the operas say, ‘A life saved must be repaid with one’s hand in marriage’?"

Their back-and-forth was rather amusing.

The first man spoke again, "You’ve been watching too many operas. If someone saves your life, and you repay them by forcing them into marriage, is that gratitude? More like returning kindness with enmity."

"But what if the benefactor demands it?"

"Even then, you shouldn’t go against your own heart. If I had a beloved, I’d never agree to such a thing—better to return the life they saved than betray my promise." freewёbnoνel.com

"Is love more important than life?"

"It’s not about love being more important than life. It’s about integrity. How can a man stand tall without keeping his word? If you pledge yourself to a woman, only to abandon her for so-called gratitude, are you even human? And if the person who saved you insists on marriage knowing you love another—trust me, she’s no good woman."

The other chuckled. "Weren’t we talking about the Fifth Prince? How did we veer off like this?"

"Right, back to the Fifth Prince. I heard he refused, saying, ‘How can one settle down when the realm remains unsettled?’"

"The Divine Physician must’ve been furious."

"Of course he was. But what could he do? Later, they say the Fifth Prince offered power and wealth instead—but marriage to his little apprentice? Absolutely not."

"Can’t blame him. The Fifth Prince is destined to rule the realm. The nation’s mother should be a noblewoman of high birth, not some wandering martial artist."

"Yet they don’t see it that way. They believe their medical reputation rivals the nobility, and his apprentice is fit to be empress."

"What do martial artists know of courtly intricacies? How can a mere physician compare to the great clans? Yes, his skills are unmatched, but nobles aren’t lacking for good doctors. Unless he can truly raise the dead, it’s just arrogance."

Gossip was just gossip—words tossed over drinks and forgotten as soon as the game of finger-guessing began.

Chang'an and Old Gu Six overheard but felt nothing. Mortal affairs were none of their concern.

It seemed public favor leaned toward the Fifth Prince.

After their meal, the father-daughter pair retired upstairs and didn’t descend again until checkout the next day.

They’d heard nothing useful—just idle chatter. The rumors had spiraled into farce, even spawning a popular stageplay.

Public opinion was unanimous: the Divine Physician and his apprentice were hypocrites, shamelessly scheming.

Honestly, couldn’t people discuss something meaningful? What was so fascinating about this tawdry drama?

As they left the inn, Chang'an nearly collided with a reckless passerby—had Old Gu Six not pulled her aside in the nick of time, she’d have been sent sprawling.