The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter - Chapter 55

When the moon reached its zenith, a pair of a tall man and a young girl led a mule into the village.

Father and daughter worked together; Old Gu Six went to check the sleeping spots of the households, while Chang’an filled every family’s water jars to the brim. Even the household of Madam, whose water jar was previously three-quarters emptied, was replenished.

At each house, they left a sack of one hundred pounds of aged rice, twenty steamed buns, and thirty flatbreads, as well as thirty pounds of white flour, all placed in the kitchens.

On their journey, they had been eating fresh rice, only leaving Chang Le twenty pounds of aged rice. This time, the aged rice in Chang’an’s spatial pouch was completely depleted, and all the steamed buns and flatbreads were given away.

Since they had been caring for Chang Le for nearly a year, as the saying goes, “A half-grown boy eats a poor father out of house and home.” The fourteen or fifteen-year-old youth was in the midst of a growth spurt, and apart from meals on the road, there was nothing else to eat, so his appetite matched that of Old Gu Six.

They had two rice pots made, and without the aged rice as a base, Chang’an’s spatial pouch had only about nine hundred pounds of rice left.

However, it wasn’t a big problem, as the five pounds of rice in the fridge could be reused cyclically. Moreover, they still had flour, instant noodles, dumplings, and other food items, enough to sustain them until they reached the northern lands.

After finishing the final household, father and daughter, along with the mule, left the village and returned to the place where they had rested earlier, planning to continue their journey the next day.

As dawn broke, wails of joy echoed throughout the village. The water and provisions Chang’an had given them brought hope for survival, and their once hopeless, numb expressions came alive.

Madam recalled Chang’an and Old Gu Six from the previous day, and a vague guess formed in her mind. However, she kept this burgeoning answer to herself, not telling anyone else for fear of bringing trouble upon them.

In the years that followed, during her lifetime, Madam erected a memorial tablet for Chang’an and Old Gu Six in her home, praying for the benefactors’ longevity, fortune, and peace.

But of course, that is a story for another time.

For now, Chang’an and Old Gu Six set out on their journey home, greeted by the morning sun.

To be prepared, Chang’an took out fifty pounds of rice for the mule to carry, unpacked a box of breakfast bread, removed all the packaging, and placed the bread in a clean cloth sack in her basket.

“Father, should we look for a carriage in the town?” Chang’an felt it would be inconvenient without a carriage, making it difficult to take advantage of her spatial pouch.

Old Gu Six agreed that having a carriage would be more convenient. After searching for half a day, they finally found the main road, which was desolate and devoid of people.

They walked for two more days before reaching a small county town with earthen walls and open gates, unguarded by soldiers.

Inside the town, many shops were closed, and few people roamed the streets. Those present appeared sickly, with yellow complexions and thin bodies, looking weary and travel-worn.

“Young brother, could you please tell me which direction the carriages are?” Old Gu Six stopped a sixteen or seventeen-year-old youth to ask for directions.

The youth noticed their neat attire and Old Gu Six’s handsome features, as well as the young girl’s fair appearance, standing out from the locals. They were clearly outsiders.

“Go left at the next intersection,” the youth replied without difficulty or misleading them.

He then hurried off, as if in a rush.

Chang’an and Old Gu Six followed the youth’s directions, turning left, and found the carriage shop at the end of the street.

The shopkeeper was an old man in his sixties. There were no new carriages, only five used ones for sale.

“These are all the carriages here, all used ones. I’ll sell them to you cheap,” the old man said with a hunched back, leaving Old Gu Six to make his choice.

Chang’an approached the shopkeeper and asked, “Shopkeeper, why are there so few people in this town?”

“They’ve all gone elsewhere to settle down,” the old man sighed, taking a rag to wipe the dust off the carriages.

“Why haven’t you left, Shopkeeper?”

“The yellow soil has buried us up to our necks. Living anywhere is the same, so I don’t want to bother.”Th.ê most uptodat𝓮 n𝒐vels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m

Old Gu Six selected a small but sturdy-looking carriage, primarily for the convenience of using Chang’an’s spatial pouch on the road.

“Shopkeeper, how much is this carriage in silver?”

The old man glanced at it casually and said, “Four taels will do.”

Father and daughter exchanged a glance. So cheap?

The shopkeeper then explained, “I didn’t spend much silver acquiring these carriages, so selling them to you for four taels isn’t a loss. After selling these few, I’ll be closing down.”

Since the shopkeeper claimed he wasn’t losing money, Old Gu Six paid the silver without hesitation, pulled the carriage out of the shop, unhitched the mule from its load, and attached the carriage to it.

This carriage was a proper one, complete with carriage doors. After Old Gu Six loaded their belongings inside, Chang’an climbed aboard. The carriage had seats inside, and once she was seated comfortably, Old Gu Six drove the mule-drawn carriage away.

Ever since acquiring the carriage, Chang’an would cook and eat in the spatial pouch of the carriage every day.

They had been traveling for about half a month when they encountered more and more refugees along the way. Upon inquiry, most of them were fleeing from the south.

Old Gu Six drove the mule-drawn carriage amidst these refugees, appearing rather out of place.

Looking at the others, covered in dirt and grime, and then at themselves, clean and tidy, they certainly didn’t seem like refugees themselves.

Some people curiously asked Old Gu Six, “Brother, where are you from?”

“From the Capital,” Old Gu Six replied without hesitation.

The one who asked was driving a donkey-drawn carriage, appearing cleaner and neater than those traveling on foot. He was accompanied by his elderly parents and carried a large sword at his waist, a martial artist.

Confirming this with a glance, the man introduced himself during their midday rest.

“My name is Lin Fucheng, from Nantang County. May I ask your name, Brother?”

“My surname is Gu, and I’m the sixth son, so you can call me Old Gu Six.”

Old Gu Six spread out a straw mat on the ground and casually responded to the friendly Lin Fucheng.

Chang’an brought out their pre-prepared lunch from the carriage: thirty steamed dumplings, five egg pancakes, now only slightly warm and no longer fragrant. She then returned to the carriage to retrieve a small clay jar of pickled vegetables.

Father and daughter had already begun eating, while next door, Lin Fucheng’s mother had just put the rice into the pot, as was the case with other families.

Everyone curiously looked over at their food, but seeing it was just pre-made provisions, they didn’t pay much more attention.

Chang’an only ate one egg pancake and three steamed dumplings, while Old Gu Six finished off the rest.

As the crowd was having lunch, a heart-wrenching cry erupted from the front, attracting a large group of onlookers, each holding their bowls as they gathered around.

The quickest to react was Lin Fucheng’s mother, who downed her gruel and set down her bowl and chopsticks in just a few gulps, her old legs moving swiftly as she rushed forward.

“You beasts! My Eldest Daughter is only twelve years old, how could you bear to sell her to a man over thirty years her senior? Jing Dazhuang, you coward, you can’t even protect your own daughter, you don’t deserve to be the Eldest Daughter’s father!”

The Eldest Daughter was held tightly in her mother’s embrace, a kitchen knife clutched in her hand. As the old man reached out to grab the Eldest Daughter, she glared at him and slashed at him with the knife.

The old man retreated hastily, observing the Eldest Daughter’s mother’s frenzied state. It seemed he would not be able to take this wife home, so he prioritized his own safety.

With narrowed eyes and a sullen expression on his fleshy face, he said coldly to Old Woman Jing, “Return the grain and silver to me, I will not be marrying into this family.”

Old Woman Jing was reluctant to return the grain and silver she had obtained, but seeing the Eldest Daughter’s mother’s crazed state, she too feared being stabbed.

In the end, she pushed forward the Second Daughter, who was of the same age as the Eldest Daughter, to take her place.