The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 92

Seeing Old Gu Six and Chang'an here, Lin Fucheng was also surprised. His family of three had first gone to a nearby town, only to be chased and forced to flee to the coast.

Behind the Lin family trailed a group of unfamiliar refugees, their eyes gleaming with hunger as they gazed at the small valley.

However, before Lin Fucheng could feel relieved, Old Gu Six merely gave him a cold glance and ordered them to leave.

"Please leave this place immediately."

Lin Fucheng's expression stiffened for a moment before returning to normal. He awkwardly replied, "We stumbled upon this place by accident. Sorry for disturbing you."

One of the refugees following the Lin family shouted loudly, "This isn’t your private land! Why should we leave just because you say so?"

Others in the crowd chimed in. They had been walking for four or five days, their water long gone, and hadn’t found a single source of fresh water along the way. Now that they’d finally come across a place with water, they weren’t eager to leave.

With their numbers, why should they fear just one man?

As it turned out, numbers didn’t matter.

Old Gu Six called out his four wolves. "Silver Wolves, keep an eye on them. If anyone refuses to leave, bite them."

At the sight of the four strong, fierce wolves, the crowd immediately fell silent, too afraid to speak another word.

Compared to a place to stay, their lives were far more important. As long as they were alive, they could always find another place to settle.

Under the wolves’ predatory gaze, they reluctantly trudged away, though not before hastily filling their water pouches from the small stream, despite the wolves’ menacing stares.

Their hearts were in turmoil—what kind of person keeps wolves as pets? Aren’t they afraid of being eaten alive?

Seeing them dawdle, the wolves bared their teeth in warning.

Big White even threw back his head and let out two loud howls before charging toward them.

The refugees shrieked in terror, scrambling up the mountain without a single backward glance.

The Lin family of three lingered at the back. Unlike the refugees, they had no intention of following the crowd and instead planned to find a place to settle nearby.

As they climbed the mountain, they quietly split off from the group, heading in a different direction—toward the cliff where Chang'an and Old Gu Six had once passed. There, an untouched household of indigenous people still lived undisturbed.

The Lin family set up their new home just thirty meters away, becoming the household’s new neighbors.

With the uninvited guests gone, Old Gu Six resumed his shipbuilding project. Chang'an, however, couldn’t help but doubt their ability to navigate the seas, given how easily they got lost. Maybe sailing out wasn’t such a great idea after all.

"Dad, why not just build a small fishing boat and fish near the shore?"

"A small boat isn’t safe for fishing," Old Gu Six replied, busy installing the mast as he dismissed her suggestion.

Chang'an thought to herself: Maybe it’s not the boat that’s unsafe—maybe it’s you?

As if a bigger ship would magically stop him from getting lost.

Leaving him to his project, Chang'an went to harvest cabbages from the field to make pickles.

She checked the salt reserves in her storage space. If they kept making pickles every year, their salt supply wouldn’t last until they left the mountains.

They either needed to find more salt or extract it from seawater.

But she had no idea how to refine salt—she’d probably end up poisoning herself. What a disgrace to transmigrated heroines everywhere—useless at everything except eating.

Maybe they should just make fewer pickles. With only two people in the household, they didn’t have to eat pickles every day, right?

After storing all the cabbages in her space, she took out just ten to pickle. They wouldn’t need much—just a side dish for breakfast porridge. If they had fresh vegetables, they wouldn’t even crave pickles.

Then she suddenly remembered—their cow still didn’t have a proper shelter.

"Dad, stop working on the boat for now. Let’s build a shed for the cow first."

Old Gu Six glanced at the cow tied up beside the mule’s shed, then at his nearly finished ship—just three or four more days of work.

He decisively chose the ship. "Let’s wait a few more days. It’s not like the cow will freeze to death."

Cow: What a heartless man. Once you’ve got me, you don’t even care anymore.

Fine. If it froze to death, they’d just eat beef and find another cow to work next year.

Chang'an considered how often people stumbled into their valley. Maybe they should build a wall around it. But the bricks in her storage weren’t enough.

Then they’d just have to use mud bricks. They needed to get started before the cold made outdoor work impossible.

"Dad, put the ship aside for now. Let’s make mud bricks and wall off the valley."

"That’s a massive project," Old Gu Six muttered, mentally measuring the perimeter—from the sweet potato fields behind the house to the potato fields on the opposite slope, all the way down to the wheat fields in the valley.

Though reluctant, if his daughter wanted a wall, they’d build a wall. It would make the place more secure.

And so, the nearly finished ship was abandoned once again.

Ship: Typical. Promises made, promises broken.

Old Gu Six decided making individual mud bricks would take too long. Instead, they’d use molds to build rammed-earth walls directly.

Chang'an surveyed the area and agreed. She immediately helped her father craft the molds, chopping dried grass and mixing it with yellow mud.

Thus began Chang'an’s new role as Mud-Carrier Extraordinaire, a job so exhausting she swore she’d shrunk a few centimeters.

They started from the sweet potato fields behind the house, working their way down. Before they could reach the valley entrance, the first snow of winter arrived.

The snowfall was light, leaving only a thin layer of snow. They didn’t stop working—they had plenty of pre-dug mud, so frozen ground wasn’t an issue.

Working day and night, they managed to finish the wall at the valley entrance just before the heavy snow. Chang'an pulled out a sturdy gate from her storage—the main gate from Prince Jing’s mansion, thick and heavy, impossible for an ordinary person to push open.

With the snow now too heavy to continue, they had no choice but to abandon their unfinished tasks and retreat indoors for the winter.

Of course, before hunkering down, they still had to build the cow shed. Braving the snowstorm for two days, they finally got the old cow settled into its new home.

Chang'an took out some meat from her storage for the Silver Wolves—they had contributed to the winter meat reserves too.

Winter in ancient times was unbearably dull. No electronics, no entertainment. Chang'an didn’t know how to embroider or sew clothes, so she could only practice martial arts.

Her father, Old Gu Six, had no such problem. Besides training, he spent his winters making clothes—though only for himself. Chang'an’s wardrobe consisted entirely of store-bought garments, sparing him the effort.

Meanwhile, many others hiding in the mountains were helpless once the snow sealed them in. They had entered the mountains just before winter, with no time to clear land or plant crops.

Before the snow, they could at least scavenge wild vegetables and mix them with coarse flour for a meager meal. But now, with the ground buried, even wild vegetables were impossible to find. If the cold didn’t kill them, starvation might.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

Some considered venturing out of the mountains for food.

After the incident where the Silver Wolves and Big White caught someone stealing vegetables, Old Gu Six had grown wary of the mountain dwellers.

Sure enough, under cover of night, a group found their way into the valley. But the fields were empty—all the vegetables and potatoes had already been harvested and stored.

They descended from the unwalled slope, scouring the potato fields first but finding nothing.

Led by their ringleader, they moved on to the vegetable fields across the way—only to find them just as barren.

They didn't dare make a sound, knowing full well this family was formidable—they kept wolves as pets.

(Side ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍note: Here's a little joke for you all—the author had recurring high fever and got delirious yesterday at dawn, hugging my younger brother in the hospital while calling him "Dad."

That little rascal my brother played along by answering every time. Coincidentally, our actual father arrived at the hospital and heard everything, resulting in my brother getting chased around the entire outpatient building by our furious dad.)