The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 145

Old Gu Six's shout actually worked—the chaotic, indiscriminate lightning strikes that had been wreaking havoc tapered off somewhat.

He watched as the ten-thousand-year-old turtle was struck mercilessly by the lightning, its millennia of cultivation on the verge of dissipating. This tribulation was the punishment it deserved. It should have left this place seven hundred years ago—who told it to hide instead?

Now, look what happened. The foolish old man of the Heavenly Dao had mistaken it for an anomaly and blasted it to oblivion.

He watched as the turtle's cultivation was shattered, shrinking it down to the size of an ordinary turtle.

The turtle: "I sensed an opportunity, so I emerged from the sea. Who knew I'd walk straight into a catastrophe?"

Locked onto by the Heavenly Dao's divine sense, it couldn’t even resist.

Old Gu Six stepped forward and poked it, sighing softly. "If you’d just left earlier, none of this would’ve happened. Even if you came looking for me, I couldn’t take you away—that’s not my job."

He placed the little turtle back into the sea, but the moment he did, another bolt of lightning struck. This time, it reduced the turtle’s physical body to ashes, leaving only its shell behind.

"Was that really necessary?"

"If you were worried it might cultivate again and make a comeback, why not just send it to the immortal realm? You didn’t have to obliterate it right away. I’ve never seen someone so inflexible."

Old Gu Six muttered complaints for a while, but no one responded. Feeling bored, he eventually headed back.

The relentless thunder woke Chang’an.

She got up and looked out the window—the moon was bright, the stars sparse, nothing unusual.

Just as she was about to go back to sleep, she saw her father returning from outside. Her eyelid twitched—had he done something outrageous again?

Wait, why "again"?

Old Gu Six was startled to see Chang’an awake. He hadn’t expected the thunder to disturb her.

Hastily, he hid the turtle shell behind his back and stashed it away in his spatial storage.

"Dad, where were you?"

He’d acted too quickly—Chang’an hadn’t noticed a thing.

"Just checking the fish trap for shrimp," Old Gu Six replied, his face the picture of innocence.

"Oh? Find any?"

"Not yet. Maybe tomorrow. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Chang’an didn’t press further. Seeing that he was fine, she turned to return to bed.

But she’d barely taken two steps when her father, being his usual unpredictable self, called her back.

"Sweetheart, ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍maybe wait a bit before sleeping?"

"Hmm? Got some life-changing news to share? Found me a stepmother?"

Old Gu Six waved his hands frantically. "No, no, no stepmothers!"

There wasn’t even a birth mother—why would he want a stepmother? This child was born from his own heart’s blood, his flesh, and a thousand years of cultivation. How could he let someone else reap the rewards of his labor?

Not a chance.

Chang’an studied his odd expression, as if the idea of a stepmother was some great injustice to him. She couldn’t follow his logic.

She went back inside, took out a luminous pearl, placed it on the table, and casually pulled up a chair. "Alright, Dad, out with it. What’s so important?"

Old Gu Six grabbed her hand, and in the blink of an eye, they arrived somewhere that left Chang’an utterly stunned.

Barren mountains. A crooked little wooden hut. A jade-lined pond filled with shrimp.

The lotus pond had been picked clean—only bare stems swayed mournfully in the wind.

Vast stretches of land lay desolate, untouched by a single blade of grass. In the distance, wild oxen and goats bellowed pitifully from hunger.

Chang’an felt the ground tremble slightly, and then she and her father were back in their house.

The dragon pearl had just leapt out of the water, on the verge of finding its little master, when it suddenly vanished before its eyes.

Dejected, it rolled back into the spirit spring, then all the way to where the little dragon was soaking behind a fake rock. It curled up beside the dragon and didn’t move again.

Outside, Old Gu Six announced cheerfully, "Sweetheart, I have a spatial realm too! We can both go inside!"

Chang’an’s lips twitched. She hadn’t expected that war-torn wasteland to be her father’s spatial realm.

Wait—"How do you have a spatial realm? And a living one at that?"

Was he about to embark on his villain arc? Could they even stand a chance against the protagonist of destiny?

Her eyes sparkled as she stared at Old Gu Six.

Misinterpreting her excitement, he grinned. "I got it last time we went to the South Sea. Just popped up out of nowhere."

"And you’re only telling me now?"

"I… kind of forgot?"

He looked guilty, his eyes darting around.

Watching his foolish expression, Chang’an figured his villainous instincts hadn’t awakened yet. Strangely, she felt a little disappointed.

No, no—bad thought! They were supposed to lay low and farm in peace.

"Fine, I believe you. Tomorrow, we’ll cut grass—your oxen and goats are starving."

Thinking of the endless expanse of unused land in his realm, she summoned a puppet from her own spatial storage.

"Let it farm your land." Her own realm was small, so one puppet was enough—it even had free time.

Maybe she should train it in secondary skills, like cooking.

Old Gu Six studied the puppet, which resembled a young man. It looked familiar—had his daughter robbed someone’s home?

But his realm did need tending, so he didn’t question it. Whatever she’d taken was theirs now.

After storing the puppet away, Chang’an gave him seeds—corn, vegetables, sweet potatoes, potatoes, cotton, and wheat.

Such a vast field going to waste was a shame. "Dad, when we go cut grass tomorrow, let’s take some cotton seeds and trade with the mountain folks for rice seeds."

"Sure," Old Gu Six mused. One puppet wouldn’t be enough for all that land—he didn’t even know how big his realm was.

Chang’an left him to his thoughts and went back to bed. Dawn was still far off.

Meanwhile, her father schemed about how to rob someone else’s home for more puppets.

He knew how to make puppets, but this world’s rules forbade it. His only option was theft.

His first target? His own father. But after exhausting every method, he couldn’t reach him—no surprise, the old man had probably fled.

Next best option: Purple Extreme.

The rest of the night was spent plotting how to swindle his father and his old friend.

He failed to con his father but managed to squeeze three puppets and a trove of rare treasures out of Purple Extreme.

Then Purple Extreme dropped a bombshell: "I’ll be away for a while. No set return date. Don’t contact me—handle your own problems."

With that, he cut off all communication and moved house overnight.

The next day, Old Gu Six was buzzing with manic energy.

Chang’an watched as he packed the four wolves, the mule, and the old ox into his spatial realm.

She stopped him. "Dad, are you trying to starve them? We still need the silver wolf as a guide."

So only the silver wolf was let out.

"Actually, release all four wolves—they can hunt in the mountains."

Old Gu Six considered it and agreed, freeing the other three.

The four wolves all looked at Old Gu Six with disdain. How could he possibly have the nerve to stuff them into his shabby little space?