The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 133

(Extra Chapter)

Chang'an looked up—the man seemed somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she’d seen him before.

The man froze when he saw them, as if momentarily stunned.

Old Gu Six, however, narrowed his eyes slightly, fingers twitching. Just as they turned to leave, he tripped and fell flat on his face.

They didn’t look back, as the innkeeper’s assistant had already brought their mule cart to the entrance.

On the road, Chang'an asked Old Gu Six, "Dad, why did that man seem familiar just now?"

"Most people in the world look somewhat alike. It’s not strange to find someone familiar."

He’d been angry because the man had bumped into his daughter—that was why he’d retaliated, not because he recognized him.

Who he was didn’t matter. If he couldn’t remember him, he must’ve been unimportant.

After they left, the man picked himself up from the ground, staring thoughtfully at the departing mule cart.

He was Zhang Jing, son of Zhang Quan—once a member of Yu San’s refugee group, later traveling for a stretch with Old Gu Six and his daughter.

The boy from back then had grown into a young man. At the time, they’d stubbornly insisted on leaving. His father hadn’t wanted to go, but others kept egging him on.

His father, weak-willed, had eventually agreed, despite his mother’s long attempts to dissuade him.

On the road, his father died protecting him and his mother. Later, his mother took him back to Gongzhou County. The disaster hadn’t yet ended, so they risked fleeing into the mountains.

His mother, too, remained in those mountains. Now, he was left alone to scrape by in the world.

He remembered his mother’s last words: "Jing’er, a person must remember kindness. Sixth Master saved us, but we abandoned him ourselves. We were undeserving of his help."

"But you must never forget—he once saved us. That is a great debt."

"Don’t learn from those others. Don’t."

Zhang Jing immediately rushed out the door, chasing after the mule cart for a few steps. But he couldn’t catch up, watching helplessly as it disappeared into the crowd at the street corner.

Standing there, he murmured softly, "Sixth Master, Miss Chang'an… I’m sorry. And thank you."

It was a long while before he returned to the inn. He was the new apprentice of the inn’s cook, reporting for work there every day.

After circling so far, those destined to meet would eventually cross paths—but sometimes, that meeting was all there was.

The silver wolf had waited in the woods ten miles outside the city for what felt like ages. Just as it was losing patience, the mule cart came swaying into view.

It let out an "awoo," trotting ahead as if to say, "Hurry up! Been waiting forever."

The journey was smooth, but as they neared the edge of the southwestern territory, they encountered groups of refugees fleeing into the region to escape disaster.

Chang'an thought their trip had been pointless. Soon enough, these people would have to turn back.

Once the Fifth Prince finished dealing with Chen Su, wouldn’t he come for this half-brother of his?

Unless Prince Qi surrendered outright, the fighting would rage on.

What Chang'an never expected was that when the Fifth Prince’s forces arrived, Prince Qi actually did surrender.

He dropped everything and quit outright—yet managed to keep his title as Prince Qi, his fiefdom still in the southwest. His military authority, however, was stripped, leaving him a true idle noble.

On the road, they ran into a brat and his enabling parents. The kid hurled mud clods at their cart, even hitting Old Gu Six.

The parent chuckled and said, "Don’t mind it, brother. Kids will be kids. Don’t take it to heart."

Chang'an fished a small stone from her space—where’d it come from? Stockpiled specifically for fights.

She lifted the cart curtain and flung it, striking the brat square on the forehead, raising an instant red lump.

Before the parent could erupt, Old Gu Six quickly said, "Sorry about that, big bro. Kids will be kids. Don’t take it to heart."

The same words tossed right back left the man speechless.

The brat wailed on the ground as his mother coddled him with "precious darling."

The mule cart sped past, kicking up dust that left them coughing in its wake.

Once they’d put some distance behind them, Chang'an lifted the curtain again. "Dad, next time something like this happens, just shove the mud clod right back into his mouth."

"I was actually thinking of making a bigger one—something that’d really knock his lights out. But since you acted first, never mind."

Chang'an: I’ve underestimated you. My respects.

"Where’s the silver wolf?"

"Isn’t it in the cart?"

Father and daughter—one thought it was outside, the other inside. And so, once again, they’d lost their wolf.

Where was the silver wolf now?

It had just descended from the mountain, a branch of wild fruit clamped in its jaws, only to find the spot where the cart had been parked now empty.

The laborers had vanished—again?

Furious, it dropped the fruit. I go to the trouble of finding you snacks, and this is how you repay me? Fine, eat dirt.

It raised a paw to stomp the fruit, then reconsidered—such a waste of effort.

Grumbling, it picked up the branch and followed the cart tracks. The farther it went, the more it realized:

These two idiots were heading east. Forget the fruit—it was too cumbersome to carry while running.

The wolf bolted after them, kicking up a dust storm so thick passersby saw only a blur before it vanished.

Luckily, it was fast. The father-daughter pair hadn’t gotten far, and it caught up soon enough.

It nearly overshot the mule, stopping just in time by using its belly as a brake.

Without even catching its breath, it launched into a tirade of "awoo awoo," then smacked the mule with a paw.

Turn around, morons.

Old Gu Six sheepishly scratched his nose and turned the cart around.

The wolf stalked ahead, shooting them the occasional glare. Old Gu Six could practically hear it: Idiots. Can’t even follow a road.

Well…

Best to pretend he didn’t notice. A wolf who knew the way was not to be trifled with.

Chang'an stayed inside the cart, deciding now was not the time to draw attention. Let Old Gu Six bear the wolf’s wrath alone—no need to volunteer herself.

They didn’t backtrack all the way. At a fork, the wolf led them onto a smaller path.

Old Gu Six followed silently—don’t ask, don’t argue, just pray the wolf doesn’t quit on us.

The path wound downward, passing a village as dusk fell. They didn’t stop to disturb the villagers, pressing onward instead.

Not that they had a choice—the wolf wasn’t stopping, so neither could they.

Night deepened, stars pricking the sky, the moon round and bright. They traveled by its light, unsure how long they’d gone when the wolf finally halted.

Before them stood a dilapidated hut, weeds choking the yard, half its roof thatch gone.

Old Gu Six understood: this was where they’d spend the night.

"Stay in the cart, Chang'an. The grass here’s too thick to walk through. I’ll lead the mule in."

"Alright, Dad. Be careful—it’s getting warmer, and snakes are out."

Chang'an peeked through the curtain at the moonlit yard. It was the perfect setting for a horror story.

Past the overgrowth lay the main house. Chang'an stepped down from the cart.

Old Gu Six unhitched the carriage and let the mule roam freely.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍dilapidated gate creaked eerily as it was pushed open from the outside, its shrill groan cutting through the silence of the night.