The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 128

After securing the pearl, Old Gu Six glanced around the tomb chamber and discovered a hidden compartment containing a chest of jewels, gold, and silver.

At the very bottom of the chest lay two books—manuals on immortal cultivation techniques.

"Trash," Old Gu Six muttered after flipping through a few pages.

With a snap of his fingers, the two books burst into flames, reduced to ashes in an instant.

"Demonic cultivators daring to call themselves immortals? No wonder Heaven wiped them out."

Still fuming, he flicked his fingers. In a distant village beyond the mountains, the ancestral shrine of the Yuan clan spontaneously ignited, and their graves exploded, scattering the bones of their ancestors into the open air.

"Much better," Old Gu Six exhaled, finally releasing the pent-up frustration in his chest.

Originally, he had only come for the treasure, but the Yuan clan had given him an unpleasant surprise. They had no one to blame but themselves for his ruthlessness.

With practiced ease, he switched to an innocent, almost foolish expression—the malevolent deity retreating behind the mask, his dual personalities seamlessly alternating.

By the lakeside, Chang'an sat with her chin propped in her hands, staring intently at the water. The moment she noticed ripples, she sprang to her feet and hurried forward.

Sure enough, Old Gu Six soon emerged from the water, clutching the chest.

Her first thought was that it wasn’t worth making Old Gu Six soak in cold water for such a small haul. She moved to help him, but he dodged her.

"Sweetheart, I’m dripping wet. Stay back—don’t let me splash you."

Chang'an handed him dry clothes. "Dad, change quickly before you catch a cold."

Old Gu Six set the chest down. "You play here for a bit. I’ll be right back."

He took the clothes and disappeared into the nearby woods. Chang'an crouched to open the chest but found nothing particularly interesting, so she stashed everything into her spatial storage to join the rest of their hoard.

Soon, Old Gu Six returned, carrying his soaked clothes. "Sweetheart, bring out those bubbles you use for laundry. I’ll wash these."

It took Chang'an a moment to realize he meant the detergent.

Once, she had used laundry powder to clean her shoes, and he’d been fascinated by the foam. The two had ended up playing with the bubbles together.

"You don’t have to wash them yourself. The spatial storage has a washing machine. Just toss the clothes in, and let’s hurry—those two might catch up soon."

"Why didn’t you say so earlier? Have I been doing laundry all this time for nothing?" Old Gu Six was indignant. He thought he’d been the one taking care of her, only to realize she’d outsmarted him.

Chang'an blinked. "Didn’t I tell you? Before we fled the famine, I helped you wash clothes, didn’t I?"

"You never said. I thought you were the one doing it." He pondered seriously—no, she really hadn’t mentioned it.

"Well, you were always so enthusiastic about laundry. I thought it was your hobby and didn’t want to interrupt."

"Do I look like an idiot? Who in their right mind enjoys washing clothes?"

"Alright, alright, I get it. Hand them over."

With a haughty sniff, Old Gu Six wrung out the excess water, balled up the clothes, and tossed them to Chang'an.

She threw them straight into the washing machine in her spatial storage, then climbed onto the mule’s back. "Let’s go, let’s go!"

The silver wolf darted ahead, while Old Gu Six brought up the rear.

Watching their formation, Chang'an was reminded of the pilgrimage to the West. The silver wolf was like the Monkey King leading the charge, the mule playing the role of the White Dragon Horse.

Her dad was clearly Pigsy. So what did that make her? Not Sandy—that left only Tripitaka.

By that logic, their "startup team" was missing one member. Well, Old Gu Six could just pull double duty.

Then again, that seemed unreliable. Better to delegate more responsibilities to Brother Wolf—much more cost-effective.

Her mind drifting into space, Chang'an suddenly snapped back to reality.

Remembering the running washing machine, she turned to Old Gu Six. "Dad, that balled-up laundry—was everything in there?" She emphasized the last word.

Old Gu Six nodded earnestly. "Yep, nothing left behind. Don’t worry."

As if she could.

Chang'an rolled her eyes. It was too late to separate the clothes now—they were already churning in the machine.

Luckily, her spatial storage had more than one washer. From now on, this one would be Old Gu Six’s personal laundry station.

They headed for the ninth treasure site, this time descending the mountain.

The silver wolf returned from scouting ahead, yowling incessantly—though Chang'an couldn’t decipher a word.

She guessed the ninth site was empty too. If there had been treasure, the wolf would’ve been ecstatic, not grumbling like a resentful housewife.

"Enough, enough. No need to howl. If it’s gone, it’s gone. Let’s just go to the tenth spot."

But Old Gu Six interjected, "No need, sweetheart. Those two probably started searching from the tenth site inward."

"Fine. So… we’re done? Head back?" With no more treasure to hunt, there was little reason to linger.

"Not yet. We still have to go to the South Sea to retrieve something."

Old Gu Six's voice sounded distant, and Chang'an felt it was somewhat unreal. How come her Old Six Dad seemed a bit off again after coming out of the water?

Was he somehow cursed when it came to water?

"What are you looking for?"

"Something very important. Don’t ask yet, daughter. You’ll know when we find it."

Chang'an noticed that Old Gu Six seemed somewhat downcast, even sorrowful.

This…

It really caught her off guard. She couldn’t figure out what had triggered such emotions in him.

But it was easy to handle. She pulled out a roasted chicken leg—she always kept plenty of food in her space, ready to feed this dad of hers at any moment.

Old Gu Six twitched his nose, and when he saw the roasted chicken leg Chang'an handed him, his eyes suddenly shone brighter than the sun in the sky.

All that gloom? All that sadness? Gone in an instant. Nothing was more attractive than the chicken leg right in front of him.

"Daughter, I also want some grilled shrimp."

"Dad, we’re almost out of shrimp in our space. We need to save some," Chang'an replied. Most of their stock had been devoured by this lively dad of hers.

"Then we’ll just catch more when we reach the South Sea," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Just shrimp, right? They’d haul in a bunch, breed some in his blessed land, and then they’d never have to worry about running out again.

Chang'an had little faith in his plans. Buying from local fishermen sounded far more reliable.

After spending another eight or nine days trekking out of the deep mountains, they passed by a small village where the entire place seemed shrouded in gloom, as if the whole community was in mourning.

As the father and daughter walked through the village, the villagers immediately took notice, eyeing them with wary suspicion.

Judging by their back baskets, the two were probably herb gatherers from the mountains. But the villagers remained tense, afraid they might try to stay in the village.

Not long ago, they had kindly taken in two hunters, only for their ancestral hall to be burned down and the main family’s graves to suddenly split open, leaving their ancestors exposed to the wilderness.

Unable ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍to find a cause, they blamed the bizarre incidents on Brother Li and his companion, convinced their bad luck had cursed the village.

Now, seeing strangers pass through, they feared the pair might ask to stay.

The father and daughter didn’t linger, hurrying straight through the village without stopping.

Only after they left did the villagers relax, and soon, arguments broke out among them.

The older generation insisted on repairing the main family’s graves, while the younger ones refused.

"Go ahead and fix them yourselves, old folks. We won’t lift a finger."

"What, are you addicted to being servants? That family’s been gone for over a hundred years! There’s no contract binding us—why should we, their descendants, keep serving a bunch of dead people?"

Others would kill for a chance to escape servitude, but their own elders were forcing it on them.

Just how waterlogged were their brains to be this delusional?