The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 118

After shutting the door again, they decided to wait and see what this so-called bride really was.

Pretending to sleep, they waited until midnight. Then, the door—latched from the inside—swung open from the outside.

A woman in a red wedding dress, her makeup garishly bright, floated inside.

Yes, floated.

Spotting the two strangers in the hall, her calm expression twisted into something monstrous. With a flick of her sleeve, a crimson silk ribbon shot toward Chang'an.

Chang'an pushed off the ground, flipping backward to dodge. Old Gu Six leapt up, drawing a flexible sword from his waist. A few swift slashes later, the ribbon lay in tatters on the floor.

Since the sword could cut the ribbon, this "Mountain God’s Bride" was clearly human.

Why play dress-up as a bride? Wouldn’t "Mountain God’s Mother" be scarier? Imagine the respect (fear) you’d get!

Unfazed, the woman began weaving hand seals after her ribbon was destroyed.

Huh? A cultivator? And not a weak one, either.

Old Gu Six relied on physical attacks, so magic might be beyond him. Time for Chang'an to step in.

Boom!

Chang'an’s eyes widened in shock, her expression akin to seeing an ant lift an elephant.

Damn, Dad! Since when did his martial arts get this strong? Spiritual energy clashed with internal force—and the latter won effortlessly.

The woman collapsed beneath the Mountain God statue, coughing up blood, her face a mask of disbelief.

Why had her immobilization spell failed?

Old Gu Six didn’t care about her thoughts. If she’d targeted him from the start, he might’ve been less furious.

But this ugly creature had dared attack his daughter. That meant she had to die.

Calling herself the Mountain God’s Bride? Fine—he’d destroy her "husband" too.

With one swing of his sword, the grotesque statue split cleanly at the waist.

The woman’s eyes bulged in horror. "No!"

She crawled to the fallen upper half of the statue, clutching it before looking up with venomous hatred.

"Ahhh—!" Letting go of the statue, she levitated mid-air, her robes billowing without wind.

So, her "husband" had been holding her back?

Her eyes burned crimson as she chanted under her breath.

Chang'an felt an eerie chill. Shadows seemed to flicker at the edges of her vision.

Old Gu Six pulled her close, shielding her.

Father and daughter watched the woman’s dramatic display. Just as her incantation neared its end, Chang'an twitched a finger.

A ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍bolt of lightning tore through the roof, striking the woman. The oppressive atmosphere vanished instantly.

Three strikes later, nothing remained of her—not even ashes.

Chang'an blinked. She’d only summoned two. Where had the third come from?

And her lightning wasn’t this powerful. Peering through the hole in the roof, she wondered—had Heaven itself intervened?

Old Gu Six covered her eyes gently. "Rest, daughter. I’ll clean up here."

"No, I’ll help." She wanted to know why the woman cared so much about that statue.

Knowing her stubbornness, Old Gu Six didn’t argue. They approached the statue together.

Up close, Chang'an noticed its secret—the hollow interior held a skeleton, now split in two by her father’s blade.

"What was the point of this?" she muttered.

Old Gu Six explained, "Legends say if you enshrine bones in a god’s likeness and receive mortal worship for a century, the dead can revive."

"That long? Might as well reincarnate." Chang'an scoffed. If this worked, why would the underworld exist? Everyone would just resurrect instead of rebirth.

"It doesn’t work. The soul stays trapped, unable to reincarnate. Mortal offerings don’t reach it—real gods absorb them."

Old Gu Six removed the bones and buried them outside haphazardly.

He even stomped on the dirt, as if worried the skeleton might dig its way out.

"Dad, relax. It can’t crawl up."

"Oh. Right." Not planting trees here.

Chang'an: "…"

They left the ruined statue untouched. No proper deity would look so vicious—more demon than god.

At dawn, Old Gu Six torched the temple.

"Dad, run! The villagers will skin us alive!" Burning a sacred site was sacrilege—they’d destroyed people’s faith.

Even the mule and silver wolf bolted. Sticking with these two, they’d end up as someone’s dinner.

By the time locals noticed the fire, the pair was long gone.

In the crowd, one man shivered and slipped home, locking his door.

He had a hunch those two were responsible—he’d spotted faint cart tracks. The "Bride" wouldn’t stay past sunrise.

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freeweɓnøvel.com.

Best lay low. Crossing them again would mean losing more than just skin.

Winter’s bleak scenery made Chang'an wish they’d traveled in spring instead.

Suddenly, she asked, "Dad, didn’t we plant cotton?"

"Some, but not much." Old Gu Six paused. Wait—where was their harvest?

"Did it fail or get stolen?" Her space had yielded multiple batches. Good thing they hadn’t sown all seeds outside.

"…We’ll check when we’re back."