The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 134

The house had only half a roof, and moonlight spilled through the opening, casting a hazy glow. In the dim light, Chang'an saw two memorial tablets placed at the center of the main hall.

They had been left unattended, abandoned along with the house.

Chang'an took out some incense sticks from her spatial storage—ones previously used to worship the God of Wealth. She lit the candles first, but no matter how hard she tried, the incense refused to catch fire. Could it be expired?

Do incense sticks even have an expiration date? Her grandfather had always been the one to light them before, so she wasn’t sure. After he passed away, the apocalypse soon followed, and the tradition of worshiping the God of Wealth faded away.

Come to think of it, the incense hadn’t lit at the temple either. The young monk there must have been scammed by the merchant and sold expired incense.

Would the Buddha get dizzy from inhaling expired incense? Hopefully, it wouldn’t cause poisoning.

She put the incense back into her spatial storage. If it was expired, there was no point forcing it to burn—that would just be cruel.

Instead, she took out a small packet of roasted beef jerky from her storage. It was Old Gu Six’s snack, but she figured she could share some with the two spirits. After all, they were borrowing their house for the night—it was only fair to offer something in return.

"Sweetheart, you don’t have to give them beef jerky. Just offer two oranges instead," Old Gu Six suggested. Those oranges were sour—he didn’t like them, so they’d be perfect for the spirits.

"……" Chang’an ignored him and continued arranging the beef jerky.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍"oranges" he mentioned were actually lemons. Chang’an suddenly remembered a funny video she’d seen of kids eating lemons and wondered what expression her dad would make.

So, she brought out the lemons she’d originally bought for making spicy chicken feet. They looked deceptively pretty, and her dad assumed they’d taste delicious.

She gave him a small slice, but he insisted on a bigger piece—only to immediately regret it as the sourness sent his facial features into chaos.

After setting out the beef, Chang’an took out some firewood from her storage. Old Gu Six quickly crouched down to arrange the wood and light the fire.

They didn’t cook dinner in the spatial storage this time. Instead, she took out a small aluminum pot, placed it over the fire, poured in some water, and added a block of hotpot seasoning. She figured she could skip the stir-frying step—even she wanted to slack off sometimes after cooking every day.

With meat and vegetables ready, the father-daughter duo enjoyed a simple hotpot meal.

Just vegetables wouldn’t fill Old Gu Six up, so she had two steamers of dumplings cooking in the spatial storage. By the time they were halfway through their meal, the dumplings were ready.

Old Gu Six expertly served Chang’an a small bowl with ten dumplings, then proceeded to devour the remaining fifty himself.

Chang’an’s steamer was large—each could hold thirty dumplings. She watched in stunned silence as Old Gu Six polished off fifty dumplings, along with every last bit of food—except for the hotpot broth, not a single leaf remained.

She knew her dad had a big appetite, but he always managed to outdo himself. Silently, Chang’an took stock of the food in her spatial storage and cleared out the fridge so it could reset.

Seeing how much he enjoyed the meal, she decided the hotpot broth could still be reused, so she stored it back in her spatial storage.

Chang’an couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of mythical creature was her dad? She figured the old man (the one they called "Grandpa") should have returned by now.

"Grandpa? Grandpa?"

……

"Grandpa? Where’d you go? Did you run off chasing your runaway girlfriend?"

……

No response. If he were here, he would’ve jumped out at that comment.

Looking at Old Gu Six now—content like a well-fed orange tabby, his eyes brimming with innocent cluelessness—it was hard to imagine him as some formidable figure.

He probably wasn’t that powerful—maybe just a second- or third-generation deity, relying on connections for protection.

His "trial" in the mortal world was likely to settle some karmic debt.

"Sweetheart, stop looking at me like that—it’s creeping me out," Old Gu Six muttered, scooting slightly farther away from her.

Why did she always have that "I’ve discovered your big secret" expression? It made him nervous.

Chang’an just hummed in response but didn’t close her eyes to sleep.

Just as she was about to drift off, the two memorial tablets on the altar suddenly toppled forward with a clatter, jolting her awake.

That kind of sudden noise when you’re on the verge of sleep is always startling.

Old Gu Six gently patted her back. "Go to sleep, it’s fine. They probably weren’t placed properly."

Once Chang’an was asleep, he walked over, picked up the tablets, and even wiped off the dust for the spirits.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he returned to the fire. The tablets didn’t move again for the rest of the night.

The next morning, just as they were getting ready to leave, a filthy, ragged beggar with his face hidden behind tangled hair rushed into the house.

He acted as if he didn’t see them, placing a piece of flatbread from his broken bowl onto the altar.

When he noticed the beef jerky, the clean memorial tablets, and the burnt-out candles, he paused slightly. Head still lowered, he turned just enough to glance at the father and daughter from the corner of his eye.

Then, he knelt and kowtowed three times to them, followed by three more kowtows to the memorial tablets. Without a word, he stood, picked up his broken bowl, and left just as abruptly as he had arrived.

From start to finish, they never got a clear look at his face—but the pungent stench he left behind was unforgettable.

The father-daughter pair and the silver wolf held their breath and hurried outside.

Once they were out, they didn’t comment on the man. Everyone had their own struggles, and without knowing his story, they had no right to judge.

The silver wolf didn’t dare wander off—these two were too unpredictable, and it was exhausting keeping track of them.

Two days later, they rejoined the main road. The path was slightly smoother, but after days of dry weather, the dust was unbearable.

Old Gu Six pulled out a coarse cloth to cover his nose and mouth.

There were quite a few travelers on this road, so the dust never settled.

The silver wolf drew curious and fearful glances, but they ignored the stares and passed through the crowd without stopping.

They couldn’t understand the local dialect, so they avoided towns whenever possible. Their destination was a coastal city where they could set sail—any detours were fine as long as they kept moving forward.

Chang’an didn’t know what Old Gu Six was searching for, but the closer they got to the South Sea, the more restless he became.

Like now—they had just finished lunch, but instead of resting, he urged them to keep moving.

"Dad, we’ve been traveling nonstop for half a month. You really need to rest."

He looked noticeably more haggard, his unshaven stubble a stark contrast to his usual neat appearance. Even during their hardest times, he had always made sure to keep himself clean.

This was the first time Chang’an had seen him like this—though, admittedly, the scruffy look had a certain rugged charm.

Good looks really did carry a person through anything.

Old Gu Six reassured her, "Sweetheart, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Just a little longer—we should be close now."

Chang’an didn’t press further. Everyone had their secrets, even between father and daughter.

Their relentless journey finally brought them to the shores of the South Sea after another half-month.

There were no fishing villages nearby, no boats—just an untouched, wild coastline.

Old Gu Six wasn’t concerned. He had intended to go into the deep sea anyway, so a boat wasn’t strictly necessary.

What troubled him was leaving Chang’an alone on the shore. Without a boat, he couldn’t take her with him.

"Daughter, you, Silver Wolf, and Mule wait here for your father."

Chang'an glanced at the sea and nodded helplessly. She and fish shared the same memory traits, but she wasn’t a fish—without a boat, she had no choice but to stay ashore.

Still, she couldn’t help asking, "Dad, are you really going to swim out like this? Can you even make it?"

Seeing the doubt in his daughter’s eyes, Old Gu Six: "…"

Without another word, he turned and strode into the sea, disappearing into the deep waters.