The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 93

As strangers approached, the silver wolf and its companions immediately opened their eyes. It dashed out with Big White, leaping over the courtyard wall in a single bound.

The two wolves intercepted five men attempting to approach the house, just as Old Gu Six stepped outside.

Three pairs of cold, fierce eyes—one man and two wolves—fixed on the intruders. The five men paled instantly, their leader forcing a shaky explanation.

"Brother, we mean no harm. We were just passing by, yes, merely passing through. We didn’t intend to disturb you. Please forgive us."

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Old Gu Six clearly didn’t believe them. Who "passed by" someone’s home in the dead of night? It was obvious they’d come to steal food.

With a low, icy growl, he snapped, "Get lost. If you dare come near here again, I’ll throw you into the sea as fish food."

The five men glanced at the wolves, then at Old Gu Six, who looked even more menacing. Their faces whitened further.

Panicked, they scrambled toward the opposite mountain, chased by the two wolves "escorting" them away. Not daring to pause for even a moment, they fled through the snow on all fours, desperate to reach their own homes.

At that moment, they were utterly defeated. They’d only wanted to search the fields behind the house—they hadn’t even planned to break in! Was it really necessary to sic wolves on them?

Chang’an knew people had come during the night, but it was too cold outside for her to bother getting up. Suddenly, she spotted a business opportunity.

Of course, she wouldn’t act on it this year. Next spring, she planned to have Old Gu Six sell sweet potato vines and potato seeds in the mountains.

They’d ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍even teach buyers how to plant them—though the lessons wouldn’t come cheap. Not everyone could afford them, but whether some "kind-hearted souls" would give seeds away for free wasn’t Chang’an’s concern.

This way, they’d earn money, and the mountain folk would have food to survive the next winter, eliminating the need for theft.

She’d also saved seeds from this year’s vegetables and could sell some of those too.

Chang’an craved sour cabbage dumplings, but there were none in the fridge—she’d have to make them from scratch. After her training, she retreated into her space; the cold outside sapped her motivation to cook.

Making dumplings was a massive undertaking. While two people in other households might wrap twenty and call it a meal, her family needed at least eighty or ninety to feel full.

Better to make extra than fall short—otherwise, she’d have to cook something else.

Preparing the filling wasn’t the hard part; kneading and rolling the dough was. She cut corners where she could, pinching the wrappers shut haphazardly—as long as they didn’t split while boiling, it was fine.

Half the dumplings went into the steamer, the other half into boiling water.

Old Gu Six practiced his swordplay in the snow, wearing only thin clothing, when a tantalizing aroma hit him. His eyes lit up like starlight, and he bolted faster than a husky wrecking a house.

Sword practice? Who cared about that? Food came first!

He didn’t usually like sour cabbage, but in dumpling form? He could eat endless amounts.

Chang’an watched, dumbfounded, as he devoured eighty dumplings and still looked hungry.

Wordlessly, she set down her chopsticks and pushed her remaining five toward him.

Fine. She’d just sneak back into her space later for more food.

Since starting martial arts and using her abilities frequently, her appetite had grown noticeably.

Old Gu Six no longer worried she’d starve from eating too little.

"Dad, you worked up a sweat practicing. Remember to heat water for a bath—don’t just collapse onto the kang. Your blankets will stink."

Old Gu Six rubbed his nose, sheepish. He’d slacked off just once, and she’d caught him.

"Got it. Go do your thing."

Chang’an took the dishes into her space to wash, then planted sweet potatoes in the front yard’s soil. This way, she could skip sprouting seedlings next spring—she’d just cut vines from her space when planting time came.

Her space seemed timeless. A clock in the villa’s room was stuck at 9:30 AM, unmoving.

But it didn’t matter. As long as plants grew—and faster than outside—that was enough.

She couldn’t be bothered to figure out the mechanics. Curiosity wasn’t her strong suit.

That night, an unexpected visitor arrived.

"To what do we owe the honor of your visit, sir?" Old Gu Six brewed tea and poured a cup for the elderly guest.

It was the white-haired elder they’d met at the Assassin Alliance. The man sipped the tea, then drew a letter from his robe.

"A favor for someone," he said, handing it to Old Gu Six before resuming his tea.

Old Gu Six opened it without hesitation. The letter, scrawled in handwriting like "a dog’s footprints," was from the Fat Leader.

It explained that someone was impersonating Assassin Alliance members, wreaking havoc under their name. The Alliance, small and powerless, couldn’t oppose him.

"That man is General Chen Su, who rose from Lingnan. After conquering the southern regions, he declared himself king. No matter how skilled our assassins are, they can’t fight an army. Revenge will have to wait."

Old Gu Six didn’t get Chen Su’s angle. Wasn’t this overcomplicating things? Did he think hiding behind another’s name would shield him?

That everyone else was too stupid to see through it? That he alone was clever?

The Assassin Alliance wasn’t staffed by fools—not with this unfathomable elder at its helm.

The letter continued: "Chen Su targeted the wrong man. The real Fifth Prince has emerged, surpassing Chen Su in strength. In three months, he reclaimed three northern counties. Chen Su’s days are numbered."

The Fat Leader didn’t know the Fifth Prince’s name, but his methods—more populist than Chen Su or Prince Qi—had won hearts. Refugees fleeing north were given shelter and aid.

"Thank you for delivering this, sir." Old Gu Six tucked the letter away and bowed.

"Please relay this to the Fat Leader: the matter is closed. I won’t trouble him again."

The elder nodded, drained his cup, and stood to leave. At the door, he paused.

"Young man, would you consider studying the Dao under me?"

"No." Old Gu Six’s refusal was instant. He was too old for patience.

Unfazed, the elder vanished into the night.

Old Gu Six shut the door, undisturbed.

He summarized the letter for Chang’an, then mused, "I suspect the Fifth Prince is Chang Le."

Chang’an just said, "Oh," and went to bed, uninterested.

Old Gu Six yawned and shuffled off to his room.

But the night wasn’t over. Near dawn, another knock came.

This time, it was Lin Fucheng—here to buy food.

"Brother Gu, I’ve come hoping to purchase grain. Only if you have enough to spare, of course."

Old Gu Six studied him silently. Just as Lin Fucheng turned to leave, he produced half sacks of potatoes and sweet potatoes.

"You can have all of these. This is all my family has to eat right now. You can keep three or four sweet potatoes as seed stock, and save a few more potatoes—don’t eat them all up."

He didn’t know the current grain prices outside, but Lin Fucheng did, and he wasn’t trying to take advantage of Old Gu Six.

He paid according to the price of new rice and felt grateful to Old Gu Six. Without him, his family of three would have had to endure the winter with empty stomachs.

The two sacks combined weighed over a hundred pounds. Once the silver was handed over, Old Gu Six taught him the planting methods.

He even personally saw him out—now that’s what you call excellent service.